He looks at me without needing to finish the sentence. I don’t have to ask what he was going to say. His scarred face is a battlefield of desire and regret… with hunger beneath it, despite everything.
“If you’re sure,” I murmur.
“I’m sure,” Julian snaps, either thinking I’m talking to him or pretending to. “Nothing is going to be the same ever again. You know that, right?”
“You should’ve taken the cash and put a bullet in me,” Damian growls.
“What’s that–a threat?”
“Just what I wish you did. I had my suspicions, Julian, but learning this about you… I feel dead already.”
Julian grabs my hand and drags me toward the door.
“My clothes–my things?—”
He ignores me, dragging me through the house.
CHAPTER 20
DAMIAN
Ipark down the street from the gambling recovery center, the December dark creeping in early. Some Christmas carol singers walk by on the sidewalk. A whole group of them with Santa hats on, laughing, letting a few notes peel into the late afternoon as they disappear around a snowy corner.
The Family has set up guards around the center. People designed not to look like guards, dog walkers who linger too long, a man working on a car that was there the last time I swung by, before the attack.
Before my best friend betrayed me.
I grind my teeth, an ache splitting down the middle of my skull. Maybe it’s hypocritical. But there’s a big difference between giving in to lust and planning a hit.
My world feels like it’s burned to the core. All good things razed. More than my face is scarred now.
I stare at the center, wondering if I should just make a move, go in there packing and ready to kill. But without knowing whatI’m walking into, it’s too dangerous. Not just for me, but for any innocent in there caught in the crosshairs.
Even sitting in my car is a risk. One of the Family members might spot me. I might’ve missed a guard when I approached the building.
Whatever is in there, it’s the reason my best friend was hired to kill me. It’s the reason several men are now in the dirt. It’s the reason I’m the Beast in more than nickname.
I start my engine. Drive away.
It’s been hours since Julian and Celine left. I told her to go because she’s the only one who can make me feel any better about this. She’s the only one who can shine a light on this expanding darkness.
I don’t want that. Don’t need it. That’s what I tell myself.
It’ll just make me weak.
There’s something else too.
I feel bad about Julian. I hate it. This feeling twisting through me, the wordtraitorwhispered darkly in my mind. I shouldn’t give a damn about him after what he did. But I do. He’s always been there for me. Kept me sane and safe after my parents died.
If Celine comes back, I’m not sure I’ll be able to resist her. I won’t be able to stop myself from feasting on her.
She’s too damn perfect.
I drive through the city, wishing I had a contact to hunt down. Someone to fight, someone to hurt, someone to kill. But I’ve run out of options. I’ve learned nothing useful except that thegambling center is at the heart of it all. Even Rico wouldn’t spill its secrets.
That means it comes from the Don. I think about calling Agent Thomas Keane, the man who’s helped me several times before. Without him, I never would’ve had back-channel access to witness protection for the people I’ve saved.
But I have nothing concrete.
