Starr Marie King
"Starr baby, I need you to try to stabilize your breathing," Damon says as I gasp for air, tightening my hold on his forearm.
"He— he's going to kill him," My voice strains as I try to pull myself up, holding my hip, at which the bullet collided with.
Damon pushes my hair back with a knowing look on his face, as I fall back to the surface beneath me. "Amore," My eyes light up to his choice of words. "He already has."
What?
My eyes widen at the sentence that occurred in the air. "H-How?" I question Damon, ignoring the men who's yelling orders all around the area.
Damon looks over his shoulder, as the men who were originally working, caught a feeling of his nonverbal calling. "Clean this shit up, and get the other body."
"What?" My hand tugs Damon's arm. "What other body?" Damon keeps his eyes too the side of him, avoiding my question.
"I need this done as soon as possible," He demands, opening the first aid kit I've just noticed. He takes out a few alcohol pad wipes, gauze, tape, and a few other things.
My eyes shift down to his steady hand as he lifted my shirt up, trying to catch a glimpse of my wound. Blood slithered down my body causing my tolerance to become tested by the unbearable thought.
His hand trails down to my belt buckle, which put great pressure on the pain that was irritating me. Those hazel eyes grab mine. I could see that he wanted to be respectful, instead of snatching my clothes off before all of his men.
I glance around the hall, seeing that there was very little men present, besides the men who viewed the mystery body. But still, getting pampered in the middle of the floor, bothered me.
As if he understood my thoughts of needing privacy, he clears his throat. "I expect this done before morning," Damon says before sliding one arm under my legs, and the other behind my back.
He slowly comes to a stance holding me close to his chest, eyeing my breathing as I laid my head against his shoulder.
His legs followed one after the other as he leads me towards the door we entered through the first time. Worry regenerated upon his face as he tried to hide his emotion from me.
Emotions that I expected to see more of after we severely passed the level of trust by legally committing to each other.
It always lead back to one thing... Damon cared. But he couldn't show that level of vulnerability to those who follow him.
He wanted me to feel safe and secure with him. He wanted nothing more but for me to lay safely in his arms knowing that tomorrow I would live another day.
And I loved that about him.
His need to protect me. To put me before himself. To be the strong man he was before me. Before I walked into his life bringing out that side of him that people now challenge because it's abnormal in their eyes.
And as true as they believe that to be, at this very moment, it was just Damon and I who were standing apart from the others.
I slowly bring my hand up to his cheek, holding his cheek upon my palm. "I visioned our honeymoon," The last word falls from my lips slowly, as I hide the pain in my voice. Damon eyes were still stuck on his mission, as he blinks away my statement.
"We were in a suite," I continue, reminiscing the good parts, while he carry me towards the car. "It was beautiful. Rose pedals stretched across the room. A ceiling that never stopped. An ocean that the stars bounced off in curiosity of finding another place of darkness to shine upon."
A guard opens up the door to the black suv, as Damon comes to a stop. He sits me on the seat, softly, making sure I was comfortable. He slowly takes the seat belt into his hands, trying to buckle me in.
Placing my hand on the one that held the seat belt, I stop him. "Regardless of all the fucked up shit... it was beautiful."
Damon's eyes catches mine. His eyebrows fall down, hiding his interest. "Why are you telling me this?"
I sigh at his oblivion. "Because I don't want to wait until it's too late. There's only so many times I could avoid death like this," I say symbolizing the bullet that has sunk into my hip every few seconds that we stay here.
Damon shakes his head. "That's exactly why we should fight our battles before settling for a future."
"Damon," I call his name. "You know that if we were to leave tomorrow, Chris would hold this empire down."
Damon sighs.
As if my statement didn't matter, he buckles me in anyways. My hand that once overlapped his, slides to the side of my body in defeat.
"Damon. Everything would be fine," I suggest. "Chris is one of the most trustworthy men we know. What's wrong with leaving him in charge for a week?"
Damon shakes his head, using all forms of avoidance; ignoring me, no eye contact, not wanting to hear what I had to say.
"Damon, it's Chris," I say in confusion.
"But Chris is not us," Damon's once silenced voice, rise above mine. "Okay. He's not us."
Damon's bold words fall upon me as my mouth part in surprise. I didn't expect Damon to recommend reasoning as to why Chris is not a good fit. Because at once, Chris was more than a good fit.
I close my eyes, letting his statement sink in before I reply back. Before I could event suggest my thoughts, he takes a step back, shutting the door between us.
The thought of him saying someone isn't us, then causing a divide between us made my heart fall. Because the us that he proudly verbalized had a door right between them.
Thrusting my hips forward, I glance over my shoulder in annoyance, watching him send orders to a few men who stood by the car. Once he finished, he made his way to the other side, soon getting in.
He closes the door behind him, placing the first aid kit beside him. "Famoir," He calls the driver. The driver nods his head, placing a pair of headphones on his head, just before he began driving away.
I didn't question where Easton was because I was aware that he didn't work dangerous missions.
Damon glances back at me. "May I?" He politely asks, as if he hasn't snatched my clothes of with less politeness in different circumstances.
I nod my head. He reaches for my belt buckle, unbuttoning it. Once it was loose, he slowly rolled my pants down, enough to revealing my wound and enough to still preserve privacy.
Again, I wince as my body folds, pressuring the bullet to move at a slightly different point. Trembling in pain, he places his hands on my thigh.
They were cold, but somehow they warmed me up. Despite his want to ignore my wishes, he made me feel at home.
And I didn't want to ever lose that factor in our relationship—In our marriage.
"I want time," Damon finally speaks up. His head is still dropping low, avoiding the eye contact that he normally mastered.
My brows fall to my eyelids in confusion of what he was implying. "What?"
He grabs the alcohol cleanser and a few cotton pads. "I want time..." Those hazel eyes finally grab ahold of mine. The sincerity it held frighted me because I couldn't determine what he was trying to say to me. "I want time....with you."
I let a knowing breath out, placing my hand over his that rested on my thigh. "And you have that," I suggest. "When I made those promises at the alter, I meant every word."
"I meant mine as well," He turns his hand over, locking mine in his.
"I know," Raising our interlocked hands, I kiss the backside of his hand. "So let's use this time."
He shakes his head. "In order to have time in this life, you make it. Time is not a gift, it's something that you have to earn."
"No," I disagree. "Time is a nonstop sequence of existence."
"That's the problem," He shakes his leg, burying any form of acceptance. "One day, that nonstop sequence will cease to exist."
I place my free hand on his shaken leg. "That's why one should live their life before there's nothing left to live." Damon looks down to the rubbing alcohol in his hand. "Staying is only limiting the time we do have left. And time... it could live forever if we lived precisely."
Damon nods his head, placing a huge bandage over the wound, to try to stop the bleeding until we make it home for Lee to fix me up for the hundredth time.
Silence take over us.
I realize that Damon had no intention to talk more about our future, so I ask about our present.
I push myself up so I could sit up straight. "Damon, who died?" He ignores me as if he feared me knowing. "Who was the person killed?"
The thoughts of the dream or vision I had minutes ago, roam through my brain.
I remember Grayson saying that Antonio had taken his innocence from him. He made him into a killer. He wasn't fond of him in the beginning. But then the thought of Antonio's death striking shortly after snaps me back into reality.
"Was it a sledgehammer?" I force words out as the pain felt more like a pulse every second my heart pumped blood through my blood stream.
Damon snakes his attention back to me. "Certainly. How are you aware of that?"
I grasp at his hand, holding it in mine, afraid that what I'm dreamt of was more that a dream. "Because while I was passed out, I watched Grayson kill him. And then you..."
My voice trails off, as I reminisced about how Damon treated me. The threats. The anger. The fear I had as he forced himself upon me. As his beautiful hazel eyes had no effect of elegance in my vision anymore.
I saw a monster. A monster whom I went on a honeymoon with. A monster whom I married not long ago—but hours.
Damon glides his hand under my chin, tilting my head up. "What is it?" He questions me, showing his first sign of affection.
Closing my eyes, I turn my head to the side, projecting those thoughts into a container that has a detailed lock upon it. "Who else died?"
"Grayson evidently described it as revenge from his joining, back in..." I cut him off knowing his next words, without clearly being aware if it was whether correct or not.
"In high school," Damon eyebrows fall above his detailed eyelids, blocking an expression of knowledge. I continue, "Grayson was jumped into the gang against his free will."
"He's said all of that," Damon blankly blinks at me. "Truthfully, I'm quite demented on how you're aware of these details when you were unconscious."
I shake my head, roughly, trying to relieve the painful headache I had. "No," I shrug my shoulders. "I dreamt that he said those words to me, then he killed..."
I squint my eyes in confusion, because I, myself had no idea who died. I remember there was two bodies and when I turned to view it once more, I ended up in the suite with Damon.
Opening my eyes, Damon stared back at me.
"Who died?" An anxious tone leaves my mouth, wanting nothing more but to know the name of the alleged shadow that's disappeared from the world.
"Vadim."
—————————————-—————————————
Okay!! I am back, and I've been lacking. But.., I'm back!! I think I kind of described how timing beats a person's ass enough in this chapter so I won't be able explaining why I've been MIA.
If you're interested, check my profile, where I've also been lacking as well.., lol!
Thanks for reading chapter 102! See you in the next chapter <3
Thoughts?
Vote!!
Nova<3