“I may take you up on that,” I say.
“Feel free. Once you finish that snack there, I’ll show you where your office will be, and we’ll get that paperwork taken care of. While we do that, you can tell me all about your brothers.”
A couple hours later, I leave the office feeling, for the first time in longer than I can remember, excited about the future. The job here may not be as lucrative as the one I gave up, but if every day is going to be spent like the one I just had, I could get used to it. I’m damn near bouncing on my toes as I head down to the employee parking garage. I’m even humming to myself, and I can’t remember the last time I felt relaxed enough to do that.
My sweet little car is parked in the spot already affixed with my name. A piece of paper fluttering on the windshield catches my attention and my steps slow, my heart lurching into my throat. With trembling fingers, I reach for the note, nearly dropping it twice before I bring it up to read.
The advertisement for car wash services pulls a laugh from my chest. God, I’m getting paranoid. Tossing the advert in my purse, I unlock my car door and slide in. My keys tumble to the floorboard as I set my purse down in the passenger seat. Cursing, I fold down to get them, scrabbling at the scratchy floorboard until my fingers snag them.
I straighten up and jab the keys into the ignition when I look up to see a shadow looming over the driver’s side window. For a second, I think it’s Jack, but this shadow is far too wide to be his lean frame. Fear lodges in my throat as I come face to face with the man whose face haunts my nightmares.
He leans down, his scarred lip twisting into a smile that sends shivers down my spine. “Hello, Sofia,” he says.
My insides freeze, tensing, and my elbows dig into my ribs as though I can disappear inside myself. I gasp for breath and when I speak, the words come out in tiny explosions. “Damian. What-what are you doing here? I thought you were in jail.” My ears start to ring and my first thought is of the boys. Oh, God. Their faces flash through my mind. I don’t want to stain them with this. Don’t want them to be faced with such horrors.
He chuckles and wedges his body in the open door, crowding my space. I jerk back, though there’s nowhere for me to go. The center console jabs into my back, but I don’t feel anything except the sharp, icy edge of fear.
“You know why I’m here, mi cielo. A cage can’t keep us apart and we have unfinished business, you and me.”
The click-clack of heels against the concrete echoes through the parking garage and my panicked eyes dart for the source of the sound automatically. When I recognize Anita, I swallow the automatic scream for help. Damian looks back, his body tensing for a moment while Anita crosses the garage to her late model sedan.
“Unfinished business?” I ask, though the words sound weak, even to my ears. Anything to get his attention off of her and back onto me. I couldn’t bear if someone I care about got hurt, and though I just met her, I already consider her a friend. One of the few I have left. For a few tense seconds, I can feel him weighing his options. When he lets her get into her car and drive off, I let out a heavy breath.
He lifts one arm—still as powerful and filled with threatening potential as I remember—and trails a finger over my cheek. My eyes close, my brain filling with thoughts of those hands on other parts of me, his touch just as soft as I remember it can be. A tear breaks through my wavering composure and meets his finger. His body stills and he rubs his finger into the moisture then brings it to his lips.
I tremble under his weighted observation. “What are you going to do?” My voice is barely a whisper and I gasp for breath in between each word.
I don’t know if I can survive it again. Just seeing him now, here, is enough to send my heart into overdrive, enough to drown me in adrenaline. My brothers’ faces flash in my mind, and I clench my stomach and press my lips together to stave off the wave of nausea.
He leans down, his head now inside the car, close enough for me to smell the mint and coffee on his breath. “Whatever I want,” he growls, threading a hand underneath my prim little bun and forcing my head backward. “You tell that to Jack when you see him. Tell him to stay away from what’s mine or you’ll both regret it.”
I choke down a sob, my body now trembling uncontrollably. I manage to nod, feeling my hair tearing at the roots from his inescapable hold. “I w-will.”
He stays there, his eyes roaming over my body like he owns it. And doesn’t he? Didn’t he prove it irrevocably that night?