Damaged (Boys of Winter 2) - Page 40

“Up until the attack in the woods,” I scoff.

“Yes,” he says with a regretful sigh. “As you grew closer to your eighteenth birthday, they were finding you quicker each time, and even after all these years, we still couldn’t pinpoint who was behind the attacks, but now we finally know, and Dynasty can now rise up to what it once was.”

Not really knowing how to respond to that, I remain silent, just letting it all sink in.

Tobias gets the hint that I need time and continues with his tour. It takes him nearly two hours to come full circle, and by the time we’re done, I’m completely exhausted. My legs are sore from walking and my mind is reeling from all the information.

Tobias delivers me right to my front door, and after thanking him for everything he’s shared with me tonight, I fall through the doors and dive for the stairs. He went over a million things all to do with my role and what it actually means to be a leader here, but after the whole cyber weapon thing and the putting me in foster care decision, I blanked out a bit. I’m pretty sure I only caught every other word after that.

I take myself upstairs, and after showering and getting into my pajamas, I find myself staring at my bed. It would be so simple to slip in between the sheets and take myself off to sleep. At least, try to sleep while I pretend the monsters inside my head aren’t terrifying.

Knowing sleep won’t come, I slip back out of my bedroom and find myself in my father’s home office. I’ve avoided this room for the most part. It seems too personal, but then what does that matter? I’ve spent hours sitting on the floor of their massive closet. What’s more personal than that?

I drop down into the big couch that lines his office and wonder what his time in here would have been like. Was it an escape from the craziness of the world he ruled? Was this where he got his peace and quiet, or was this where he would go to get shit done?

I grab the throw blanket off the back of the couch and pull it over me. It smells like it’s been sitting here for twenty years, and because of that, this blanket just became my favorite thing in the world. The rest of the house has been looked after. Modern furniture fills the rooms, but this room looks as though it’s never been touched.

My eyes grow heavy and I scoot down on the couch, imagining that my parents are still here. I wonder what they’d be like, where their lives would have taken them, and just like that, I close my eyes, and for the first time since being locked in Sam’s dark cell without Carver’s arms around me, I sleep peacefully, the monsters kept at bay.

CHAPTER 11

Grayson leans back in his chair, his eyes roaming over my body as though he doesn’t even realize that he’s doing it. The confusion seeps out of him, but it’s clouded by intrigue. I watch him back, wondering just what he’d do if I was to cross the room and straddle his lap. Would he push me away or pull me in? All I know is that three nights ago, his lips were only an inch from mine, and kissing him is all I’ve been able to think about. You know—when Carver isn’t taking up all the space inside my head.

Cruz’s scoff from the dining table breaks our trance and I look his way, watching as he rolls his eyes at Grayson. “Get in line, bro,” he tells him. “I’ve been trying to seal the deal for three days, but Carver keeps cock blocking me.”

“You’re more than welcome to go and fuck in your own house,” Carver calls from the living room.

“With my parents and my little brothers knocking at the door? Yeah fucking right.”

Carver grumbles under his breath. “At least you’ve got your brothers.”

Cruz’s face twists with a cringe just as I feel like I’ve been shot straight through the heart. That one stung. Both Cruz and King glance my way and I shake my head, not wanting to see their pity. Every time I’m reminded of what Carver lost to save me, a little piece of me dies inside. I still can’t believe that he sacrificed his family for me. He gave up the one thing I’ve always wanted, and it’s killing me that he won’t just give me two seconds to talk to him about it. I don’t know if he’s too hurt to even think about it, or just being a stubborn asshole, but I need to fix this. I just don’t know how.

Letting out a sigh, I get up from the table and make my way into the living room, feeling the guys’ eyes on me, carefully watching my every step, but I don’t care. I’m determined to fix this. If only I could get him to loosen up. Maybe then he’ll be happy to talk it through.

Tags: Sheridan Anne Boys of Winter Erotic
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