Paranoid

DAMIAN’S P.O.V.

“She seemed fine.” Skylo’s words echoed in my head as I stare at my phone screen, my fingers hovering over Tracey’s number.

Fine.

I don’t believe it.

I shouldn’t even care.

But the moment I saw the notification from the internal staff informing me that she’d spent an unusual amount of time in the library before suddenly leaving—I felt it.

That damn feeling of something about to go wrong gnawing in my gut.

Something she probably won't tell us and the thought fucking infuriates me.

I rub a hand down my face, exhaling sharply.

Across from me, Skylo lounges in my chair like he owns the place, legs kicked up on my desk, flipping through some files with an air of complete indifference.

I swear, I don’t pay him to sit around like a lazy bastard.

But he’s always fucking there, acting like my personal devil’s advocate.

“Are you gonna call her,” he drawls, still not looking up, “or just stare at your phone like a lovesick idiot?”

I shoot him a glare. “Shut the fuck up.”

He smirk