First Night Apart

I was trembling all the time.

I couldn't get the gunshot out of my head; it kept repeating like a nightmare.

Damian tightened his hold on my wrist as we rushed to the basement. My feet continued to move, but my breath came in sharp, irregular gasps. I had no idea what I would discover below. I wasn't certain I wanted to do it.

Damian pushed the hefty door open as we got there. I was immediately struck by the smell of gunpowder and something metallic—blood.

My dad was sitting in a chair with a heaving chest and a pallid face. Beside him, one of Damian's guys lowered a burning rifle.

Damian said, "Relax," in a cool but firm voice. "If he was dead, you’d know it."

I gave a trembling breath. My father was still alive despite having his hands shackled and his lip bleeding.

Alive.

"You shot him!" My heart thumping, I turned to face Damian.

"Not him," he stated with ease. "The wall. A warning shot.

My stomach turned over. Damian's steady, impenetrable stare locked with mine. I was being tested by him. Observing my reaction.

It made me despise him.

He made me feel like a piece in this game between him and my father, and I detested that.

I said, "Untie him," in a shaky voice.

Damian's forehead raised. "You don’t get to give orders here."

"I don’t care!" My voice broke. "He’s my father!"

He moved in closer. Additionally, he lies. A robber. To rescue himself, a guy would sell his daughter.

His statements were profound because they were accurate.

However, that didn't alter the fact that I was done participating in this perverse conflict.

When Damian signaled his men, I turned my back on him and refused to look at him. My father's hands were no longer turning purple after they untied the ropes, but they did not untie him.

It was as good as I could get.

I didn't say anything else. I simply turned to leave.

Damian let me leave this time.

---

I continued to move till I reached my bedroom upstairs, where the door was slammed behind me.

I leaned my back against it, breathing unevenly, my chest rising and falling.

I required room. I required time.

Above all, I had to get Damian Wolfe out of my mind.

However, my body betrayed me even as I stood there attempting to gather myself.

The weight of his gaze was still on me. My name was encircled by his voice like a silent pledge. The way his lips had touched mine—claimant, possessive.

I closed my eyes tightly. No. I couldn't allow myself to go in that direction.

I went to the closet, picked up a suitcase, and began tossing items into it. Where I went didn't matter to me. I simply had to leave this house.

Somewhere I could breathe without feeling like my entire being was being devoured by Damian.

Where I could think.

The door was gently knocked on.

I tensed up. "Go away."

Quiet.

Then—

"Lyra."

His tone. Low. Managed. Dangerous in a way that made me feel hot.

I took a deep breath. "I’m not in the mood for another fight, Damian."

"Then open the door."

I paused.

No. I wasn't acting in this way. I refused to allow him to irritate me once again.

Instead, I gripped the handle of the bag and said, "I'm leaving."

Silence for a beat. Then—

"No, you’re not."

I felt my blood boil because of the finality in his voice.

I rushed over to the door and slammed it. With his hands in his pockets and an enigmatic expression, Damian stood there.

"Yes, I am," I said firmly. "You can’t keep me here like a prisoner."

"I’m not keeping you here, Lyra." His tone was cool and collected. "I’m keeping you safe."

I gave a harsh chuckle. "Safe? Do you believe I'm safe with you?

He stepped inside. I stepped back.

"That gunshot could have been meant for your father," he stated. "Or it could have been a warning from someone else."

I took a deep breath. "What are you saying?"

His eyes grew gloomy. "I’m saying there are bigger threats out there than me."

I detested the fact that his comments made me shiver.

"You expect me to believe you’re my protector now?" I posed a challenge.

Slowly and deliberately, he drew closer, his presence smothering. "I expect you to be smart enough to know when you need me."

I balled my fists up. "I don’t need you."

The atmosphere between us grew very dense. For a half-second, his eyes flitted down to my lips, so quickly that I nearly thought I was dreaming.

However, I didn't.

Because all of a sudden, the struggle had left my mind. Or the risk. Or the bag that's still on my bed.

His mouth was on my mind.

His palms.

How his body had felt against me only a few hours before.

I took a deep breath. No. This was not going to happen again.

Whispering, "You should go," I made myself turn my head away.

He clenched his jaw. I thought he was going to ignore me for a moment. That, as usual, he was going to get past my barriers.

However, then—

He stepped backward.

His eyes flashed something unreadable. "If you want space, take it."

I blinked.

I didn't anticipate that.

"You mean it?" With caution, I asked.

He gave one nod. "One night."

My stomach turned over. "And after that?"

Something that wasn't quite a smile curled his lips. "You’ll come back to me."

I didn't like how his words made me shudder.

I detested the fact that I already knew he was correct.

He turned and left without saying another word, leaving me standing in the doorway with my heart pounding.

I didn't get any sleep that evening.

Not because I was afraid.

Not because I was heading out.

However, because I was aware of that, regardless of how far I separated us—

I wasn't finished with Damian Wolfe.

Worse?

Nor was I certain that I was done with him.