The Deal

Chapter 11 - Into the Fray

{I wish I could hurt you back ~ love, what would you do if you couldn't get me back?

Figures - Jessie Reyez}

Chapter 11 - Into the Fray

It was hot. Swelteringly so, but I was determined to make a point by staying buried under my doona and refusing to move; even as the sheets began to stick to my skin and constrict around my limbs. I was in denial about what had happened yesterday, and being as stubborn as I was found myself doing the only thing I was good at – hiding.

I wasn't hiding from Warren. I didn't even expect to see him again. He'd said everything he'd needed to over the phone, and made his opinions about me clear. In his mind, I was a liar, and never truly would be forgiven. He was too nice a person to hold a grudge for long, but even if he did forgive me over time he'd never be able to trust me again.

The doorknocker banged loudly from downstairs, and I muffled a self-pitying groan as I disentangled myself from my sweaty cacoon. Lucy had texted earlier to inform me that she was stopping by, and I hadn't the heart to tell her not to bother. I just wanted to sulk in solitude for a while longer before having to face reality.

I ignored the full-length mirror as I headed downstairs, knowing that my reflection resembled exactly how I felt - like  a twisted, wrung out mop that had definitely seen better days.

Although I was rolling in the filth ridden pits of despair, I still made a half-hearted attempt to scrape back my greasy hair before opening the door.

Damon stood in front of me, half turned as if undecided about staying. He watched me, through clear eyes, as I gaped at him, disgruntled to find him at my door.

Not a word was spoken as we stood looking at one another, Damon calm and collected while my mind exploded in a colourful array of unhelpful musings.

He's here to get his own back – he's going to beat me up, just like every other schmuck who bugged him. Maybe I can bribe him out of killing me? Is there any chocolate left in the cupboard to apologise with? Oh God, no, I ate it all last night. Why, why did I feel the need to eat my feelings?

"I-I don't have any chocolate," I said quickly, eying him warily as he stooped to lean against the doorframe. He raised an eyebrow, but didn't question my abrupt statement.

"Can I have a word?" he asked instead, indicating over his shoulder. When I didn't move, he frowned and took a step back. "Outside?"

This little lamb knew the intentions of the charismatic butcher, and yet I willingly trailed out after him to the slaughter house. What else was a girl to do when confronted with a face like that?

Damon came to a stop in the middle of my lawn, his stance relaxed and his face surprisingly fresh and open as he turned to look at me. I wasn't used to seeing him this laid back, and found myself severely questioning his sudden appearance as he loosely folded his arms over his chest and sighed.

"Well," he breathed, his usually rough velvet tones surprisingly gentle as the corners of his mouth pulled up in a smile. "Surprised?"

I looked away from him and down at my bare feet, not trusting myself to hold his gaze for long. It was, after all, his fault for starting this sham relationship and dragging me into it - but no matter how much I resented him for all that he'd done, I knew that one look into his eyes would have me believing a different story.

"A little," I mumbled in response, cursing myself for appearing so feeble in front of him. Where had the fist-wielding, screaming banshee girl from yesterday disappeared to? I tried my best to appear unruffled by his presence, squaring my shoulders and focusing on something over his left shoulder. "I know why you're here."

"Yeah?" he chuckled, shaking his head as if he couldn't quite believe it himself. "Well, there's a first for everything."

I frowned.

"What do you mean? This isn't the first time you've had to settle a debt." 

"You think I'm here to get my own back for yesterday?" He asked.

"Aren't you?"

"God, no," He replied, laughing. It was a rich sound, a noise that I'd only hear a handful of times before. I felt it reverberate deep in the pit of my stomach.

"Then, what?" I asked, exasperated.  Then it dawned on me. "Are you here to pay me?"

Damon's brow furrowed before understanding lit up his eyes.

"I forgot that I owed you," he said absently, his mind clearly straying to other, more important matters. I scoffed.

"Forget it," I grit out, snapping him from his reverie and bringing him back to the situation at hand. I felt dirty even thinking about it, and the last thing I wanted was to accept anything from him. "You can keep your money."

"Fine," he replied quickly, his tone laced with annoyance as his lean fingers toyed distractedly with his lighter. "But that's not what I'm here for."

"At this stage, I don't even want to know."

"Yes, you do," he insisted, his constructed façade slipping slightly by my impatience. He ran a hand through his golden hair before stepping closer and lifting my head to look at him. "I'm here to apologise." 

I stepped back, dismissing his words with a wave of my hand.

"I don't believe you."

"Look," he said, his friendly demeanour changing as his expression clouded. "I don't care whether you believe me or not. I'm just here to say I'm sorry to hear about what happened with Warren. I know that our agreement had something to do with that."

"You think?" I asked, incredulous. "Our arrangement had everything to do with it! If you hadn't black mailed me into working for you, this never would have happened."

"You didn't have to do it."

"You left me no choice!" I cried. "You bullied me into helping you."

Damon didn't say anything. His jaw was locked, his fists clenched, but his eyes burned with every thought he didn't voice.

"I should go," he said eventually, already backing away towards his car. "Forget it."

I stood, stony faced, and watched as he left, feeling nothing but a surge of hopelessness as he drove away.