The President's Daughter (Original) ✔️

33. Relapse

"My house it is," Cellie agrees.

Damien's POV

I stare blankly at the middle of the street, her words of hate playing on repeat in my head. I can almost laugh at the cruel irony.

My mind wanders to the day the incident had occurred. Elijah had moved to Washington a year before Zach and I did. He had left the gang under unknown circumstances and we mixed into his friend group. Ironically, I still think about that night sometimes. But it is not because I regret running away, it's because I didn't understand why he pulled the trigger. Elijah always played like that to show off. Especially when he was drunk. But his gun is always empty and placed on safety. I never found out why he loaded it that night. Nor could I, even if I wanted to, because Elijah hung himself a couple of days later.

We knew he protected us by convincing the cops he was alone. But when we found out Isabelle was the niece of the governor, we wasn't going to risk visiting. Everyone that was there that night didn't show up to his funeral out of fear. I have no idea where they are, but I last heard that they left to another state and I never heard from them again.

And to think Elijah would be the cause of my downfall. The reason why I had lost the one good thing in my life. A part of me wishes I never met her. So I wouldn't feel this constant and unbearable pain in my chest. But the other part of me, although hurt and regretful in the aftermath, is glad I've met the most beautiful girl in the world and that I had the pleasure of loving her.

I flinch at the loud horning sound behind me. I grit my teeth and make a turn, hearing a string of curses as I go by. I turn the radio volume higher, letting the music flood my senses to stop my trail of thoughts.

My phone vibrates in my pocket and I fish it out to see an unknown number calling me. I turn off the radio and connect the phone to the car speaker. "Hello?"

"Hi Damien! How are you?"

I frown and look at the number before looking back at the road. "Makayla?"

"Sorry, yeah it's me. Jo gave me your number."

I let out a breath. "Hi. How you doing?"

"I'm good. How are you?"

"I'm... same. I mean, I'm fine."

"Okay, well I called to check up on you. When are you gonna take me up on my offer?"

I bite my trembling lips and try to focus on the road. "Uh... Maybe next week?"

"Okay, sounds perfect. Take care of yourself, okay?"

"Yeah, thanks for calling. Bye, Makayla." I quickly hang up and pull over to the side. I place my head on my forearms as my hands grip tightly on the wheel.

Another reminder of what could've been, and what I had lost.

I sniff and clear my throat, pulling back into the lane. After an hour, I stop by a run-down red brick apartment. I park under a busted streetlight and climb the stairs two at a time.

Music pours through the door and into a hallway, making it easy to find its source. The door is unlocked and I turn the knob. The party is in full swing.

After calling Will from the hospital, he had told me to meet a mutual friend, Bryce. I'm guessing he doesn't trust me considering who my girlfriend is. Was.

I swallow the thought and walk through the door. A girl immediately latches onto my neck, almost spilling the booze from her cup onto me. I shove her aside and then feel another hand on my shoulder.