"Where is he?" Kai demanded.Margaret avoided his eyes. "He needs space.""Eight hours, Margaret. Tell me.""I can't. He made me promise."Kai paced their apartment, walls closing in like a cage without Damon. He dialed again. Voicemail. "Damon, just say you're okay. Call back." Nothing.She watched from the couch, concern etched deep. "He'll return. He always protects what's his."Kai doubted it. That lifeless stare as Damon sped off—it screamed a man with nothing left to lose.Hours dragged. Kai lay awake, ceiling mocking him. At 2 AM, the door clicked open.He raced out. Damon filled the doorway, drenched in blood. Not his—his stance was steady, no limp."Damon—"Damon brushed past, silent, heading for the bathroom. Kai trailed, pulse racing. "Whose blood?"Damon stripped, shirt slapping wet onto tile. Bruises bloomed across his ribs, knuckles raw, but the blood was someone else's."I tracked his hideout," Damon said, voice echoing flat. "Apartment across town. Cash rental, fake na
Zuletzt aktualisiert : 2025-12-21 Mehr lesen