Chapter 10 - THE MAN UNDER THE ARMOR
The bullet went through Damien’s side.
No major artery.
No organ damage.
The doctor at Damien’s private safe house said he was lucky.
Damien said luck was for gamblers.
Briar said, “Shut up and lie down.”
Victor nearly choked trying not to laugh.
Damien stared at her from the bed.
“You’re very comfortable giving orders in my house.”
“You’re very comfortable getting shot.”
“I’ve done it before.”
“That isn’t impressive.”
“It was a little impressive.”
“No.”
Caesar rested beside the bed.
He had eaten almost a full bowl that afternoon.
Briar watched him, smiling.
“You’re doing better, big guy.”
Damien looked at her.
“He is.”
Something in his voice made her look away.
“You should sleep.”
“So should you.”
“I sleep badly.”
“So do I.”
“That isn’t bonding.”
“It could be.”
She gave him a look.
Despite everything, he smiled.
A real one.
It transformed his face.
For one dangerous second, Briar understood why someone like Elena could have loved him.
Then Damien said, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For telling you that you couldn’t leave.”
She studied him.
“You already apologized with actions.”
“I’m doing it with words too.”
“That sounds painful.”
“It is.”
She smiled.
Then silence settled.
Damien looked toward Caesar.
“When Elena died, I stopped bringing people here.”
“Why?”
“Because everybody wanted something.”
“And Caesar?”
“He wanted me alive.”
Briar swallowed.
“Dogs are simple that way.”
“You aren’t.”
“No.”
He turned back to her.
“What did Corbin do to you?”
Her muscles tightened.
Damien immediately said, “You don’t have to answer.”
That made it easier.
“He started small.”
Briar stared at her hands.
“He said my friends were bad for me. Then my clothes got too revealing. Then my job hours were suspicious. Then he handled the money because I was ‘bad with it.’”
Damien’s mouth hardened.
“One night I tried to leave.”
She stopped.
Caesar raised his head.
Damien did not move.
“He locked the door.”
Briar swallowed.
“I realized I had been trapped for months before he ever turned the key.”
Damien’s voice was very quiet.
“How did you escape?”
“He got drunk. Forgot to lock the bathroom window.”
She smiled without humor.
“Third floor.”
Damien stared.
“You climbed down?”
“I fell halfway.”
“You could’ve died.”
“I thought that was better than staying.”
Something violent moved through his expression.
Briar pointed at him.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Make that face.”
“What face?”
“The one where you plan a murder.”
“I’m resting.”
“You are planning a murder while resting.”
Victor appeared in the doorway.
“Sorry to interrupt whatever this is.”
“What?”
“We found the rabbit.”
Briar stood.
“Where?”
Victor held up a plastic evidence bag.
Blue fabric.
Half burned.
“We also found something inside.”
He placed a small brass key on the table.
Damien stared at it.
Briar frowned.
“A key to what?”
Victor’s face was grim.
“A locker at Grand Central.”
Then Damien’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
Corbin’s voice filled the room.
“Bring the key, Briar.”
Her blood ran cold.
“And if I don’t?”
May you like
Corbin laughed.
“Then your mother dies for real this time.”
