Page 40 of The Queen (Masterpiece Duet 2)
A tsk sound. “And I worked so hard on it.”
“I’m serious. How could you think that’s a good idea?”
He puts a hand to his heart. “I’m wounded, sweet Penny. I don’t have your brainpower, unfortunately, but I think it’s a pretty good plan. You’ll be safe with Hiro. The world will be safe from Jonathan Scott.”
“You, Damon. You’re the one who isn’t safe.”
“When have I ever been safe?” he asks, sounding infinitely weary.
The words hit me like a ton of bricks. He’s never been safe. Not as a child. Not now. Does he even imagine it—or does it seem so far beyond his reach that it can’t enter his dreams?
It only emboldens me to go with him. It will be like waking him from a nightmare, dangerous but entirely necessary to my soul. I can’t watch him suffer alone.
“What did he do to you?” And this time I’m not asking about iron pokers or knives. I don’t need to understand the details of his pain. I need to understand the goal.
“He made me into him,” Damon says, more resigned than angry.
And that only strengthens my resolve to stay with him. I can’t keep him safe against Jonathan Scott, but I can do something else. I can stand beside him. I can stand in front of him, protecting him the way he once protected me.
We sealed that deal with our bodies back in Tanglewood. The only reason he’s standing here right now is because I begged him to. Because I took off my clothes. The last thing I’ll do is make him face this alone, even if he thinks he has to.
“I’m coming,” I say softly.
“No.” His voice is firm, commanding. I’m sure those paid mercenaries will jump to do his bidding, but they don’t love him. I love him. I turn the words over in my head, wondering how it’s possible. Wondering how I didn’t see it for so long.
It’s like saying I love breathing. Damon is part of the air itself.
“I’m coming with you, and you can’t stop me.”
He lifts a dark brow. “Do you really want to challenge me? I’ll enjoy this. And what’s more, I’ll win.”
Normally he might be right. This isn’t normal. “I’m sure.”
“Why do you even want to come? It’s like walking into hell and asking for a cup of tea.”
“Because I won’t let you do that alone.”
He looks away as if holding back words. “It’s not up to you.”
I run my hand along the outside of his arm. His body responds with a visible shiver. God, that makes me powerful. No one ever told me how much power’s inherent to sex, how causing desire is addictive. Grasping his wrist, I tug him close.
“Let me come with you,” I murmur, coaxing now.
“It’s too dangerous.”
“You’ll be with me. I trust you to protect me.”
His eyes meet mine, lids lowered. “You shouldn’t.”
“I’ve always trusted you. From the night you sat in my bedroom, reading the cover of my trigonometry book. I knew that I would be safe with you. And that’s why I have to come.”
His breath fans over my forehead as I lean close. “Why?”
“Because as long as you’re with me, I’m safe. And as long as I’m with you, you are safe. It’s only when we split up that he’s been able to hurt us. Don’t you see? He wants to divide us. This is how we stop him. This is how we survive. Together.”
He curses and turns away, but he knows I’m right. That’s the beautiful thing about logic, about proofs. The thing that’s always drawn me to them, the way a well-reasoned argument becomes its own power.
“And if he hurts you?” Damon says, touching his forehead to mine.
“And if he hurts you?” I counter, because I would be just as devastated. More. Damon thinks that by heaping all the pain on himself, that he’s keeping me safe, but the truth is I feel his scars like my own.
“Then it would be any other day.”
I press my palm to his chest, where I know the darkened skin and white lines are not quite covered by tattoos of monsters and men. “That was before.”
A hoarse laugh. “Was it? Feels about the same to me. The same as when I was a fucked-up kid with nowhere to go, knowing my dad was a fucking psycho.”
“No, Damon Scott. It’s different this time.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because this time you have me. And if I have to walk through hell to prove it, I will.”
“Christ,” he says.
The proof has already been solved. But I have another card to play. Something to gamble with. A clay chip with my own risk. “Please,” I whisper.
You mean something to me, too. You mean everything.
His large body shudders. “What are you doing to me?”
Doing what I should have done all those years ago. “Thanking you. You protected me once. Let me return the favor. Let me help.”
