Chapter 12: High-and-mighty

[WARNING: This chapter may make reference to themes such as abuse and possible rape, which may upset some readers.]

"Here are the towels," Nick said as he entered the room.

I put Danté's hand (that dropped soon his uncharacteristic 'thank you') on his stomach. "Thanks."

I took one and gently wiped the blood and sweat from Danté's face. My mind was blank.

"Here, give me that," Nick said, taking the warm towel from me. "Why don't you go wash up and I'll keep an eye on the boss." He smiled reassuringly.

"Okay. Let me know if he gets a fever," I told Nick, thankful to leave the room.

Nick nodded and cleaned his boss's face.

I didn't even know where the bathroom was. But I didn't even think of turning back to ask Nick. I was too tired and numb, walking like a zombie towards the only place I remember seeing in the rush to get Danté to his room.

The kitchen was open-plan, with black counters and cabinets. The only bit of color besides a few modern paintings on the white stone walls was Damian's blonde hair. He sat on a barstool by the kitchen island.

When he heard my boots stepping on the tiles, he turned around.

"Hey."

"Hey," I responded weakly.

Damian patted the barstool next to him. "Come have a drink with me. You need one."

I nodded in thanks and took the seat next to him. I wasn't going to be on duty for a while, so it was fine to have a drink.

I was too out of it to have a mental battle with myself about the fact that I was drinking whiskey with a member of The Inferno in their leader's mansion, and the possible dangers I'm letting myself get into with my low tolerance in a house full of gang members.

Damian poured me some of the liquor in a crystal glass and slid it towards me.

"Thank you." I took a sip of the liquor. As it slid down my throat it burned, causing me to cough.

Damian stared into his half-empty glass.

I remained quiet myself, taking another sip.

The silence was comforting after all the chaos and screams of agony.

"Vlad's lacky. He didn't..." Damian stuggled with his words, probably trying to find the right ones. But when he glanced at me and saw that I understood what he meant, he asked, "Did he?"

I shook my head. A lump formed in my throat that I wanted to fight down so badly but I didn't have the mental strength to do so. So I looked away, tugging at Danté's jacket that was still around me, then hugged myself.

Keep it together, Venus.

"I'm sorry that I wasn't there to protect you," Damian said. He sounded like felt really guilty. "I had to solve something at the base... I didn't know that Parker would take you back there."

"It's okay. I'm a cop. I'm supposed to be able to protect myself," I responded with a raspy voice.

"It was my job to shadow you. And I failed at it. If I didn't think about the possibility that you went back to the abandoned factory..."

So it was Damian that led the others there.

"You still saved me, in the end, and that's what matters" I said in attempt to make him feel better. I didn't even know why I was comforting him. They were the ones that got me in this mess to begin with.

"You're Hannah's best friend. If you died, or if that man had his way with you... What would I have told her? I would never have been able to look her in the eye again." Damian curled his hands into fists on the counter top. He looked so hateful of himself for failing at his job, and I could relate. I guess we had that in common.

Going against the voice at the back of my mind, I patted him on the back. "It's okay. You came through in the end. You are not a failure."

Damian studied my face. "I understand what Hannah said, now."

"What did she say?" I asked.

Damian smiled. "She said that you were the most selfless and brave person she knew. And I see that it's true."

Tears sprung to my eyes. I wished Hannah was here. I wished she could hug me and tell me that everything was going to be okay, while we sit in her studio, with her girl group songs playing in the background.

"C-could you tell her that I'm okay? And that I'm safe with you guys. But don't tell her about what happened." I sniffed.

Damian nodded. "I will."

Everything that happened tonight, the fear, my brother's desperate crying face... Everything was too heavy, and I broke under it all.

Damian put his arms around me, and let me cry into his chest. I sobbed for a long time, and he held me the whole time, not saying a word.

When I calmed down, I broke away. "I'm so sorry for this. I... can be a big baby sometimes."

Damian shook his head. "No, you're not, you went through a lot. It's okay to cry."

I hiccuped as I wiped the tears from my cheek. Damian's gray shirt had a giant wet circle in the front from where I cried.

He definitely had a softer side to him, unlike the evil cold-hearted killer I had him pinned as.

But I didn't want to open up completely. I had to keep my guard up.

"You can take my bed for the time being," Damian said as he got up. "The guest room is empty, so Danté will need to get a bed in there for you while you stay here."

Wait, what? Stay here?

"How long am I going to have to be here for? I don't have clothes and stuff."

"You'll have to lay low until things die down. If you go home now, the cops will see you and it won't seem like we kidnapped you," Damian explained.

"I know, but what about clothes and toiletries and things?"

"We'll sort all of that out. Danté will cover all the expenses." Damian gestured for me to follow him by jerking his head in the direction in which he was going.

"No, that won't be necessary. I can buy my own things--"

"And risk leaving credit card records? Or being spotted?" Damian asked with a cocked brow.

"Will I be locked up here the whole time then?" The whole 'being kidnapped' thing was just an act, but it's looking more and more like I was being held captive.

"Not locked up. Just in hiding." Damian led us into what I assumed was his room. He walked towards the closet and pulled it open. "As long as you're behind these gates, no one will know where you are."

He shuffled through his clothes and pulled out a big white hoody, and a pair of women's leggings, that looked familiar.

"Here. The leggings are Hannah's, which she forgot here the last time she was here," Damian said, and I raised my eyebrows. "But I don't have any of her shirts, I'm afraid. So, you'll have to wear my hoody."

I thanked him, trying to eliminate any thoughts in my mind about what Hannah could possibly have done here, in his room.

Damian showed me his en suite bathroom, gave me a new toothbrush and a clean towel. Then he left me with a curt "Goodnight".

I spent half an hour in the shower, scrubbing blood and dirt from my skin and hair. Luckily Hannah left some shampoo and soap in Damian's bathroom, otherwise I would've smelt like the manly minty scent that I smelled on him when I cried my eyes out into his chest earlier.

Thinking about it now made me feel like I wanted to bang my head into the tiles in the bathroom wall.

When I laid my body down into Damian's luxury bed, I fell asleep almost immediately.

"Vee, we've been together for almost a year now."

No. Not this conversation again. I can't do this.

"Why won't you sleep with me?" He said it like I owed it to him

"I just don't feel like we're ready for that yet."

He banged his fist into the kitchen table where we sat at. It made me jump in my seat.

One of my textbooks on criminal law fell off the side of the table, and some of the tea in my cup spilled.

"I don't get why you keep saying that. Your dad likes me. Your mom likes me. We will most probably get married. Why should we wait?" he asked, looking irritated and angry.

I knew that expression all to well. He probably had a bad day.

The bruise on my back stung. "I just... I'm not ready."

"You're on the pill already, of course you are ready." He got up and walked to my side of the table. My heartbeat raced.

"I am on it, but that doesn't mean I want to..." I broke off, unable to even speak the words.

He touched my face, an action that used to give me butterflies in my stomach.

Then he slapped me, making my eardrums pop.

"Are you thinking about other men, you sl*t?" He said into my face, while holding my face in his grip. It hurt so badly that I had to fight not to cry out. That would've made things worse.

"Am I not good enough for you, huh, Princess?!" He yelled, shaking my face.

I could feel where the bruises will be tomorrow.

"That's not it--" I whispered.

"Shut up!" His expression scared me more that it ever did before.

He kicked the chair backward, making me fall on my back, crying out in pain.

He smiled with menace, and his eyes widened with an evil pleasure. "You won't be so high and mighty anymore after tonight."