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Naomi’s body twisted and convulsed in agony, but Damian held her down firmly–she couldn’t break free.
All she could do was sob out a trembling reply. “It hurts… It hurts so much.”
Her face was a mess of sweat, blood, and tears beneath the gauze wrapping. She stared up at Damian with terrified eyes.
When Damian leaned in, the veins in his neck stood out with suppressed rage. His voice was icy, seeming to seep into her very bones. “But the pain in my heart is worse than anything you’re feeling.”
Naomi stared at him in horror. “What do you want from me?”
Damian released his grip on her wound. He let out a long, slow breath. “I don’t want anything. I just want this ache inside me to stop.”
The image of Scarlett lying battered in a hospital bed flashed in his mind–a sharp, stabbing pain in his chest.
In that moment, the only way to dull his own suffering was to make Naomi hurt a thousand- no, ten thousand–times worse.
With that, he pressed down hard on her wound again.
Naomi screamed, but no one came to her rescue.
The pain was so intense she blacked out.
Seeing this, Damian clicked his tongue in satisfaction. He picked up a bottle of water and splashed it over her face.
Naomi jerked awake, coughing violently.
Damian grabbed her face again, watching as fear reduced her to pleading. “Damian, please… let me go.”
He ignored her words and continued his methodical torment.
The more she suffered, the more a grim satisfaction settled over him–though it did nothing to ease the ache in his own heart.
Naomi passed out several more times. Each time, Damian revived her with cold water.
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It wasn’t until the tenth time she was splashed back to consciousness that he finally eased his grip. “When Scarlett begged you for mercy,” he asked coldly, “did you ever think about letting her go?”
Naomi froze.
Damian was
known as a playboy–women came and went like changes of clothes.
Naomi had assumed he’d already forgotten about Scarlett.
She never imagined his brutal retaliation today was still because of her.
Seeing her stunned expression, Damian lit a cigarette. He took a deep drag, then exhaled the smoke with a contemptuous sneer. “Have you forgotten your last lesson so soon?”
Naomi inhaled the secondhand smoke and broke into a fit of coughing. Between gasps, she insisted, “It was Luke! He told me to do it–to go after Scarlett. He ordered me to take revenge. It was all his idea!”
Damian arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”
Seeing his skepticism, Naomi rushed on, “It’s the truth, I swear! He and his mother both hate her.”
Damian narrowed his eyes. “You’re not lying to me?”
Naomi nodded vigorously. “Every word is true.”
Damian considered this. Given the Crowley family’s standing, Naomi wouldn’t dare target Scarlett without backing. Luke’s support made sense.
Satisfied, he stubbed out his cigarette.
“Fine. I’ll let you go… for now.”
With that, he turned and left.
Naomi watched his retreating figure, her racing heart finally beginning to slow.
*****
By the time Damian returned to the hospital, dawn was breaking outside.
Claire was asleep in a chair beside the bed. Half–awake, she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder.
Opening her eyes, she saw Damian’s face and startled, but he put a finger to his lips.
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They stepped quietly into the hallway.
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“Thank you for staying with her,” Damian said. “Go home and rest. I’ll stay with Scarlett now.”
Claire hesitated, then added softly, “After what happened… she’s terrified of being alone in the room. Please don’t go far.”
Her words sent another pang through Damian’s chest.
He nodded. “I won’t.”
After watching Claire leave, he slipped back into the room.
Sitting by the bed, he looked down at Scarlett’s sleeping face. Her breathing was even, her expression peaceful.
A faint, weary smile touched his lips. He reached out, wanting to brush a strand of hair from her cheek–but stopped himself and drew his hand back.
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