Page 94 of Boots & Scars

"Then leave," I interrupted, my voice unwavering. "Mom, I'm not kidding. Go. And only come back when you can accept him."

"And if I can't ever accept him?" she asked quietly.

My chest squeezed painfully at her words. This was still my mom, the woman who had raised me and protected me—maybe too much, but always out of love.

"That's your choice, Mom," I said. "I can't force you to do anything."

She stood there for a moment; her face a storm of emotions. Then, without another word, she turned and walked out of the room.

The door closed behind her with a soft click, leaving me alone in the sterile hospital room. The silence was deafening, broken only by the rhythmic beeping of the machines monitoring my vitals.

I lay back against the pillows. My relationship with my mom had always been complicated, but this felt like a turning point—a moment where I had finally taken control of my own life.

But it also felt like losing something precious.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I thought about Cooper and everything we'd been through together. He had become my anchor in a world that seemed to be constantly shifting beneath my feet.

I knew this decision would change everything—my relationship with Mom, the way I saw myself, and even how others saw me—but for the first time in my life, it felt like the right choice.

Because loving Cooper wasn't just about choosing him over someone else; it was about choosing myself and what made me truly happy.

And that was something worth fighting for.

Even if it still didn't explain where he was.

28

Cooper

The cold, hard bench in the holding cell did little to soothe my aching back. My mind churned. I stared at the scuffed concrete floor, tracing invisible patterns with my eyes, waiting for whatever came next.

The sound of keys rattling jarred me from my thoughts. I looked up as the bars slid open with a metallic groan.

An officer stood there, his expression neutral. "You're being released," he announced.

I stood up, the stiffness in my muscles protesting every movement. As I stepped out of the cell, my gaze locked onto a figure standing just beyond the bars.

Damien.

He looked like he'd stepped out of another era, with his platinum hair slicked back and an aura that screamed both danger and allure. His eyes held a cold, calculating glint, and his presence filled the room with an unsettling energy. Damien's sharp features and piercing gaze reminded me of some medieval warrior, commanding and untouchable.

"Cooper," he said, his voice smooth but carrying an edge that hinted at unspoken power.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice gruff from disuse.

"Saving your ass, it seems," he replied, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

I couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah? And what do you want in return?"

He shrugged casually but his eyes never left mine. "Maybe I just wanted to see how far you've fallen."

"Or maybe you have something up your sleeve," I shot back.

Damien's smile widened slightly, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Always suspicious, aren't you? Come on, let's get out of here."

We walked side by side through the narrow corridors of the station. The fluorescent lights above cast harsh shadows on Damien's face, accentuating his sharp cheekbones and the intensity of his gaze.

As we exited the building into the crisp night air, I felt a mixture of relief and wariness. Damien might have gotten me out of that cell, but I knew better than to trust him completely.

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