He was here.
That night I was here.
He was fucking here.
Watching us.
And I had no fucking clue whatsoever.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
JESSICA
Deny it all you want, but you’re mine.
The words seem to echo inside my brain. The destruction I saw when I entered my house is still vivid in my mind.
The photos.
Somebody’s been watching me.
Not just that.
They took photos.
Hundreds of photos.
All scattered around my ruined bedroom.
Panic rises in my chest, making a lump form in my throat as my heart rate kicks up.
You’re mine.
You’re mine.
You’re mi?—
A warm hand falls over my stiff fingers. I tense at the sudden touch. I blink, my vision clearing as Matthew comes into focus. Worry is written all over his face as his palm covers mine, gripping tightly, his other one cupping my cheek. “Breathe with me. Just breathe with me.”
He inhales deeply, and I mirror him. Sweet air fills my lungs, making that tight knot in my chest loosen.
He slowly lets it out and then repeats the action again, and I follow his lead.
In and out.
Slow and steady.
In and out.
“That’s it. Nice and easy.”
He slowly forces my fingers to uncurl before intertwining his with mine.
“You’re safe now.”
Am I, though?
He was in my house. He trashed it. My home. My safe space. Instead of backing down, Damien only seems to be escalating more each day.
