He looks to me now, his eyes softening. “You trust me?”
“Yes,” I respond, taking my eyes back to the road ahead and making a right turn onto the main highway. “I can’t explain how or why, but I do. But know this,” I murmur. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Damon.”
“I don’t need your protection, Madison.”
“I know. But Katsia won’t do anything.”
“You not understand,” he whispers. “I’m the alpha Lost Boy.” Even the word alpha sounds weird coming out of his mouth because he doesn’t seem like that kind of guy to me. I haven’t seen him in an alpha form, so I giggle a little.
“Madison,” he shakes his head in disdain, “so much you don’t know.”
“Well, we have a forty-minute drive back.”
“You never should come back, Madison.”
I look at him then the road and then back to him. “What? Why?”
“He knew no take you there but did anyway.”
“Who?”
He looks at me dead in the eye. “Your father.”
The drive back was done in silence after Damon’s little outburst of how I shouldn’t be back in the Hamptons. I wanted to press to learn why, but I can’t. Not yet. I can see how Damon will only share what he wants to share, and he’s not the type of person that can be swayed.
We pull into our underground garage, and I look at the clock in the dash. Just past midnight, so everyone should be asleep, if my dad and Elena are even home. I don’t see Nate’s car anywhere, so I know he’s not in for the night. Probably out terrorizing some poor girl. Pushing the button to close the garage door, I get out of the car and round to the passenger side. Damon follows, shutting the door behind him.
“Come on. You can sleep in my room until I figure some stuff out.”
“I can’t stay.” He shakes his head.
“The fuck you can’t.” I take his arm, and he tenses at my touch, yanking away from me.
“Sorry,” he mutters when he sees the shock on my face.
“It’s okay. So you don’t like being touched. That’s probably the least of the weird thing I’ve come across as far as phobias go.” Beeping the car, I make my way toward the door with Damon following closely behind me.
“It’s not a phobia,” he confesses, just as we make our way up the stairs to the main living area.
I turn over my shoulder a little. “It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it.”
He pauses, his eyes searching my face before he nods. “Thank you.”
I smile softly, and then round the stairs, taking the first step. “I’ll get some of Nate’s clothes for you. He won’t mind, and even if he did, he could eat a fat….” I notice he’s not following me anymore and turn around, finding him still on the first step and looking to the ground like he’s trying to add something up in his head. “Damon?”
“Nate?” he whispers. “Nate?” he repeats, searching the ground once more.
“Yes?” I take a tentative step back down. “Nate Riverside?”
Damon stills. “Not Riverside.”
Huh? I swear this is too much. “We can finish all these conversations tomorrow. Come on, let’s get some sleep.” I reach my hand out to him and he takes it, letting me lead him up the stairs and into my room. As soon as he’s inside, he pauses, looking around.
“No pink?”
I shake my head. “Not a pink girl.”
Damon looks like he wants to giggle, but doesn’t. In fact, I don’t recall ever seeing him smile, much less giggle. “Not surprising.”
I tilt my head. “I’ll set you up on the floor. I’ll just go and get something for you to wear from Nate’s room.” Though Nate is noticeably larger than Damon, I’m pretty sure he can make it work until I take him to get new clothes.
Slipping into my bathroom, I open Nate’s door, the dark room a little creepy. Hitting the light, I walk straight to Nate’s closet.
“The fuck are you doing, sis?”
“Shit!” I scream, spinning around and coming face-to-face with Nate. Damon comes barging through the door, his eyes feral and his stance stiff. “It’s okay!” I tell Damon, noticing how he looks about ready to rip someone’s head off.
He isn’t looking like the Damon I’ve just met and spent a bit of time with.
“And who the fuck are you?” Nate quips, getting out of bed with his Calvin Klein briefs on.
“Nate, get back into bed.”
“No,” he says, narrowing his eyes on Damon. “I know you.”
“No, you don’t,” I brush him off while praying he doesn’t so I can leave this conversation until tomorrow. I’m hungry, tired, and I didn’t get the rest I wanted and needed, so I’m about ready to jump off the cliff of “calm and collected” and dive straight into the ocean of “lost my shit” with five-foot swells of “I’ll kill you all.”
“Yes,” Nate continues, slowly stepping closer and closer to Damon. “You…” Something clicks in his head, and he suddenly launches toward Damon, his fist flying toward his face.
“Nate!” I scream, throwing myself toward the two of them, but latching onto Nate’s back, my arms connecting around his throat. Damon swerves, dodging his punch calmly, his face not showing any distress. He looks almost disinterested—bored.
Nate falls to the ground with me on top of him.
“What the fuck?” I slap Nate on the back. “Dick!”
Nate flips me on my ass and gets to his feet, pointing down at me. “Stay the fuck there.” Then he turns to Damon. “I fucking know you.”
I get to my feet. “Leave him alone.”
Damon looks to Nate. “I know you do.”
“Shut up, Damon!” I snap. He needs to shut his mouth before he says something stupid. Hopefully, he’ll say it in Latin.
Nate tilts his head. “Et tu puer vetustus amissus….”
Well, there goes that theory.
“You speak fucking Latin?” I yell toward Nate, but he throws his hand up, halting me. Getting my phone out of my pocket, I quickly pull up
