Page 95 of Sticks & Serpents

The weight of his truth settled between us, palpable and real. I could feel the ache in his heart—a longing for something deeper than all those superficial desires. My heart twisted at the realization that he had spent so much of his life feeling used.

He shifted slightly, turning his head so that our eyes met. There was something vulnerable in his gaze that made my breath catch.

“Except you.”

My stomach dropped at those two words.

“You didn’t know who I was when we met.” His lips twitched, the ghost of something bittersweet lingering there. “And I loved that about you,” he added softly, a hint of warmth igniting behind the darkness in his eyes.

In that moment, everything felt fragile and beautiful—like a glass sculpture teetering on the edge of destruction yet somehow holding its shape against all odds.

I swallowed past the lump in my throat, trying to process his words. Memories flooded back—how could they not? I remembered that day perfectly.

He had been just some cocky, rough kid who irritated me in all the right ways. The way he had smirked at me from across the playground, how his laughter echoed in the air like a challenge. I fell for him so fast it was dizzying, heart racing with every teasing jab he threw my way.

Damien turned fully now, water dripping from his skin and pooling at our feet. His hands framed my face, grounding me as if the world outside faded away completely.

“You’re the only good thing in my life, Holly,” he said, and those words hit me like a freight train.

My heart cracked wide open, spilling everything I felt but never had the courage to say aloud.

His voice was barely a whisper—a vow that cut through the chaos swirling around us. “I won’t let you leave me. Not you.”

And then he kissed me.

It was fierce and desperate, igniting every nerve ending in my body. I melted against him, losing myself in the warmth of his embrace and the promise that wrapped around us like a shield against everything else. My hands found their way to his hair, fingers tangling as I pulled him closer—closer than I ever thought possible.

With every brush of his lips against mine, every lingering moment we shared beneath the steam rising from the bathwater, all doubts began to dissolve into thin air. The scars of our pasts felt less like chains and more like threads binding us together.

I didn’t know what tomorrow would bring or if Damien’s promises could withstand whatever storm lay ahead. But for now, here in this fragile bubble we had created for ourselves, I allowed myself to believe—if only for a moment—that we were untouchable.

Chapter28

Damien

Iwatched Holly through the steam rising off our bodies; the warmth wrapping around us like a cocoon. She was still here. After everything I’d done, after everything I was, she hadn’t walked away.

My hands rested on her waist, fingers pressing into damp skin as I pulled her onto my lap. She straddled me in the tub, her forehead pressed to mine.

Her touch was soft, reverent—like she was learning me all over again. I could feel her heartbeat against my chest, a steady rhythm that seemed to anchor me. It amazed me how easily she slipped beneath my defenses, peeling back layers of anger and fear with each gentle brush of her fingertips.

I held her close, feeling the warmth radiate from her body and mixing with the hot water around us. The intimacy felt electric and terrifying at the same time. There was a rawness to this moment—a vulnerability I hadn’t allowed myself to experience in years.

“Damien,” she whispered, her voice barely breaking through the sound of water lapping against the sides of the tub.

I opened my eyes to meet hers, searching for something—reassurance or perhaps a promise that we could navigate this chaos together. The uncertainty hung heavy between us, but there was also something undeniable in the way she looked at me.

I needed her to understand what she meant to me. “You’re…” My words trailed off as I wrestled with how to articulate this new territory we were venturing into together.

Holly’s fingers brushed my cheek, grounding me in reality when my thoughts threatened to spiral out of control again. I wanted so badly for things to be different—for both of us—but change didn’t come easy for someone like me.

And yet here we were. She didn’t flinch at my scars; instead, she embraced them as part of who I was. It felt like maybe we could heal together—if only I could let go of the darkness that had followed me for so long.

My chest tightened as I stared into her eyes, the weight of her gaze pinning me in place.

Why does she stay?

How the fuck did I get this lucky?

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