“Kitchen’s this way,” he says and tugs lightly for me to change direction. He lets go immediately. He never touches me unless he really has to and I’m so thankful for that. He’s the coldest person on the face of the planet, but for some reason it feels comforting.
The kitchen light is bright and it brings me to a dead stop. My heart skips a beat before it continues pounding heavily. I take a few deep breaths as Damian walks by me.
It feels as if the walls are closing in on me.
Damian gives me a dark look before pouring coffee into a green mug. I watch him add one sugar and milk. I watch his wrist work as he stirs and then he leaves the green mug on the counter.
My eyes follow him across the kitchen as he puts the milk back in the fridge. He takes a bottle of water and as he unscrews the cap, he leans against the counter. Casually, his body exudes comfort with his legs stretched out in front of him. I watch his throat work the water down until I see the black ink.
“Your coffee’s getting cold, Cara,” he says, yanking me out of my fear-induced stupor.
“You’re not having any?” I ask, my voice sounding raspy. I clear my throat and with a trembling hand I brush some hair from my face.
He takes another sip of water and it doesn’t look like he’s going to answer me. Slowly, I walk over to the cup while keeping one eye on him. I pick up the mug and savor the warmth seeping into my fingers.
“I don’t drink coffee.” It’s the first normal thing I learn about him. He drinks water, no coffee.
“Thank you for the coffee,” I swallow the lump down with a hot sip of coffee. “How did you find out about me?” I ask while staring at the caramel liquid in my hands.
“Your uncle,” he says. “He gave me your basics. That you still have a lot to learn at twenty-five, I learned from how easily they found you.” My eyes snap up and anger starts to coil in my gut.
“Let me get this straight.” He caps the bottle of water and places it on the counter. “Tom organizes a whole new identity for you, a shitty one may I add, and you manage to hide for seven years … and then you just let them take you.”
I don’t think it’s a question. It doesn’t sound like one so I just stare at his chest. I try to breathe and exhale at the same time he does, but I need more air and my breathing speeds up.
“You survive an attack in which your parents are killed,” his voice drops with warning and the hair on my body rises, “and yet you still put yourself out there for them to get you?”
I put the cup down before I drop it and keep my body turned sideways, away from him. My anger at him fizzles away because he’s right. “I got careless,” I whisper wretchedly. “I forgot for one stupid moment that I wasn’t allowed to have a normal life.”
“There is no such thing as normal,” he says icily. “People like us, like you and me,” he waves carelessly between us, “are far from normal. We blend in until we become nothing more than shadows. You have to make people look the other way.” As he takes a breath I realize this is my first lesson from him on how to survive without an identity. He’s going to show me how to become a shadow … like him.
I have to depend on a killer, a cleaner, whatever he wants to call himself. He is standing here because of me, and if I choose to stay with him then he will still be here tomorrow. It’s guaranteed that he will be here. I haven’t had any guarantees except the death sentence hanging over my head for so long, but I’m still not sure about him or his agenda.
“How long will I stay with you?” My voice is thick in my throat. I’ve never stayed with someone, not since my parents.
“Unfortunately, life dealt you a shitty hand,” he begins. One thing about Damian is that he loves eye contact. It’s hard to keep eye contact with him but this time I force my eyes up to his. “You have one of two choices, Cara. You either stay here.” He doesn’t elaborate what that would entail. “I’m busy arranging a new identity for you. The papers will be here in two weeks. If you decide to do this, to stay here,” he adds quickly, “you’re not gonna bail on me one day. You can’t wake up and decide this is not the life you want.” I feel him move, as if even the air rushes to give way before him.
I blink once when he gets close to me, and then I keep dead still. His eyes hold mine as he presses the air away between us until there is almost nothing but our clothes. My heart starts off with heavy beats. He wraps his fingers around the back of my neck, and the air rushes from my parted lips. For the first time fear for this man coils deadly inside of my stomach, waiting to be released.