Page 2 of Savior
Something flickers behind his President’s eyes, a miniscule flash of momentary fear. It stirs a rolling, nauseous sensation in the pit of Damien’s stomach… The motherfucker they had been Hell bent on destroying, wasn’t lying after all… And now… Now, this complicated things further.
“What girls?” his President’s indignant tone, a glaring red flag of denial. A scowl further distorts his already hideous features as he brings his face nearer to him. “The only bitch you need to concern yourself with, is his whore!”
Damien was concerned about her. He had been for a while now. Ever since he laid eyes on her at that bonfire. Watching her writhe under another man’s hands in the shadows… He’d wanted her for himself from that very moment. Played with the fire and even allowed temptation to draw him into that purple Victorian, just to be near her again. He didn’t have to do that. It wasn’t a necessary step required to execute the plan. Yet, he couldn’t resist. She had him under her spell, though he was sure, unintentionally. She was oblivious to her own influences. Just another part of her he found irritatingly irresistible. And despite the warnings he was sure she was given of him, she had shown him a respectful kindness.
Though, this wasn’t the only reason plans had to change. His President had lied to him…
Damien knew they were both scum. They were born scum, from scum. He’d known it since he was a kid, watching his own mother turn trick after trick in their shitty tin camper in the desert. Fixes of whatever she could snort up her nose or shoot in her arms, were her greatest concern. Because of her, Damien learned early on, that there were men even lower than scum. They had suffered together at the hands of such monsters. Now, he was standing face to face with one. And as his broken heart hardened over in his chest once again, the wheels turned in Damien’s mind.
The plan was definitely changing. It had to. There was a lot he could turn a blind eye to in this dark, twisted world. But he didn’t condone this sick shit. The man standing before him, was a stranger. Not the man he owed a damned thing to. Not anymore. Not at all. The monsters had created another of their own... Damien was scum. He could admit that to himself, but a monster of this depravity?No. No he was not…
“She has to be vulnerable somewhere! Appointments! Her job! Figure it out!” the monster demands. “Or I’ll strip you of that VP patch and put someone in charge who will!”
A forced, placating smile etches across Damien’s features as he brings the cigarette back to his lips.
“I’ll let you know when I have her.” He replies on a cloud of smoke.
And have her, he would.
