Page 37 of The King (Masterpiece Duet 1)
My very own mermaid with glitter fins and blue-green yarn hair. A consolation prize. I’m not good enough for someone to actually love me, to care about me. That couldn’t be more clear.
I speak louder. “Why?”
He doesn’t pretend this time. “Do you want me to leave?”
That’s not an answer. My lips press together. Already I’m annoyed that he made me talk. Where Avery could stroke my hair like I was a pet, something about Damon’s blunt taunting requires a response.
His laugh has everything he used to be—defiant and hungry. It has everything he is now, dark and unrepentant. The wild boy may have been alluring in his subtle strength, but the man has a thousand moving pieces. A puzzle I could never hope to solve.
“You’ll be safe at Gabriel’s house,” he says, his tone final.
He stands, about to leave the room.
There was no reason for him to confirm with me personally. It had already been decided at breakfast. And yet here he is, as beautiful and masculine as I can even imagine, taking my breath away. For what?
And then I know the right question to ask. Not, why are you here?
“Why do you care?” I whisper.
He pauses without turning. “Do you know why my father chose you?”
Jonathan Scott had said I was a peach. Ripe. Juicy. I can still hear the smooth slide of his voice. I can still feel the sharp bite of his teeth in my flesh. Every part of me tenses, every muscle in my body taut. It was the right question if he wanted a reaction from me—something desperate or even violent. Something dramatic. I press my nails into my palm, forcing down the bile in my throat.
Then Damon looks back at me, his dark eyes knowing. “Because he knew you meant something to me.”
A man who owns half the city. Wealthy. Powerful.
The sound that bursts from me should be a laugh. Instead it sounds like something cracking. “I thought he would be smarter than that. I don’t mean anything to you except ten thousand dollars.”
Damon gives me a small smile, a little wry. “Smart people don’t always have perspective.”
Is that why Damon came to visit me? Because he feels like he owes me something? He doesn’t owe me anything. It wasn’t him who hurt me. He already sacrificed himself for me once.
I always dreamed of being a mermaid. How they could swim around, without a care for what happened above water. In their own little world. Only now do I understand how constraining it would be, how suffocating it can feel even when you can breathe. Whether the water is dark or light, tinged with blood or sparkling blue, you’re trapped inside.
“I’m sorry,” I say, though I’m not sure what I’m sorry for.
His grief, even though he doesn’t look sorrowful.
He looks hard and glinting, like a diamond. That’s the way he stares at me, looking almost angry at my words. “I swear to God, Penny. What I would do to you. If only—”
My breath catches. “If only what?”
“If only you weren’t so fucking terrified.”
I couldn’t argue with that. Terror has sunk so deep in my bones it felt like survival. I wasn’t sure what would be left if you tried to strip the fear away. Would there be anything to hold me up? “He said he was leaving my virginity,” I say, the memory sore and raw. Festering. “He took me from… From the back. But he said he would leave me innocent for you.”
Damon doesn’t have any of the surprise that Avery did. None of the pity.
And then he takes a step toward me.
Another one, as if pulled by the invisible string of my pain.
He doesn’t stop at the edge of the bed. It’s his bed, after all. Not my personal island. Not a fortress. He puts one knee on the bed. That’s the only warning I get before his body covers mine. Caging me. Before he holds me down with the very heat of his presence.
I put my hands up before I realize what that means—it means I’m touching him. My palms against his broad chest, my hands feeling warm skin and hard muscle. I yank my hands back as if they’re scalded.
“You’re too young,” he murmurs.
There’s this heat coming off him, like he’s a fire and I’m thawing out. I know it’s not safe, being this close. He could burn me. But there’s also a small part of me that feels alive, only when he’s here. Only when he’s on top of me, his warm breath on my forehead.
“I thought the cops couldn’t protect me.”
“They can’t. But I can.”
For half a second—sweet relief. I want his protection, even if it means my ruin.
Except that isn’t what he’s offering. Isn’t what he’s demanding.
Realization crashes down on me. He’s going to send me far away, into the arctic where my ice can set in. I should be grateful for that, but I can’t. The whole world will see me as broken, after what happened to me. God, even I agree. He’s the only person in the world who could have seen me as whole.
