Page 43 of Hide Little Traitor

“Ro, he hates me. He’s made no secret of that. What makes you think he’ll listen to a single word I have to say?”

“He doesn’t hate you.”

We’ve had this argument so many times over the last few years, but no matter how much he insists that his brother could never hate me, I know the truth. I’ve seen the disdain staring back at me whenever our eyes lock, and I stopped trying to mend something Damon has no interest in repairing a long time ago.

“Try,” he pleads. “For me.”

There’s a part of me, and not a small part, that wants to deny him, but if there’s one person in this world I can’t say no to, it’s Ronan.

I nod with a sigh, glancing at the hill he disappeared over.

“Thank you, Sparrow,” he murmurs, dropping a sweet kiss to my temple before releasing me.

Not bothering to look back at the funeral site, I trace Damon’s steps with my heart hammering in my chest.

There was a time when I found comfort in his company, when I craved it. But not anymore. Now I dread every interaction, knowing I’m the last person Damon wants to see at the best of times, but especially now.

My heels sink into the damp grass the further I walk between headstones, and it’s not until I’m about to turn back that I see him.

He leans against a tree, a lit cigarette between his fingers, but he makes no move to take a drag. His eyes are locked on something ahead of him, and I can’t tell if he doesn’t notice me or if he’s choosing to ignore my approach.

He finally glances up when I’m just a few feet away, and for a split second, the veil of indifference drops. The look of contempt I’ve become so familiar with is nowhere to be seen, and he seems almost relieved to see me.

“What do you want, Chloe?” he snaps.

“Ronan wanted me to check that you were okay.”

“I’m fine. You can go now.” He looks away from me, once again staring into the distance.

I sigh, taking a few steps closer. “No one would blame you for not being okay. You just lost your mother. It’s normal to mourn.”

“I lost my mother years ago. She should have died in that accident. It would have been a far kinder fate than the one she was forced to live.”

I bite down on my lip and lean against the tree across from him, putting us just feet apart. Being so close to him makes my stomach roll uncomfortably. I don’t think Damon would hurt me, not physically at least, but I’ve seen how Salvatore trains him, how ruthless he teaches his sons to be, especially Damon.

If he had his way, both his sons would be cold, unfeeling robots, just like him.

“You can tell Ronan I’m fine. I don’t know what made him think I would want to talk to you.” He spits the word like it’s personally offended him, and no matter how hard I try to swallow the pain his hatred brings, tears gather at the corners of my eyes.

“Neither do I,” I admit, turning away from him before he can see the tears ready to fall against my cheeks.

“Just stay away from me, Chloe. We aren’t friends, we aren’t family. You’re just my brother’s girlfriend who I can barely stand to look at.” His words cut so deep that agony slices through my chest. Knowing someone I care so deeply for thinks so little of me hurts more than I can ever describe, but by the time I get the courage to look at him, he’s gone.

For the millionth time since the night I watched him kill an innocent man, I promise myself that I’m done trying.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

RONAN

NOW

“What the fuck happened to you?” Ryker asks as Damon all but stumbles toward us.

The skin on his face has turned varying shades of purple, and if the arm he has wrapped around his middle is anything to go by, I’d guess he has a broken rib or two.

Damon glares at him before turning his attention to me. “Looks like you were right. They know I helped you escape with Chloe.”

“Fuck.” I drag a hand through my hair.