Page 63 of Origins
I didn’t know how long I cried. But the entire time he whispered things, made promises, and reassurances that made no sense. His warm hands ran comfortingly through my hair and over my back. The fact that—for the first time in my life—there was someone to simply hold me, who genuinely cared, made me cry even harder.
I was a mess. Yet this cathartic release made me feel stronger. I knew that I was no longer alone.
Damen didn’t leave me—none of them did. The others hovered and made concerned comments. But eventually, they settled and allowed Damen to take the lead. What was important was that none of them abandoned me during my ridiculous emotional display.
Wasthiswhat friendship was supposed to be like? Was this normal?
It felt like an eternity before my tears dissolved into hiccups. My eyes burned, and as I began to wipe them with my fists—belatedly trying to salvage Damen’s shirt—a navy handkerchief was thrust into my hands.
I looked at it—confused. Who in the world carried handkerchiefs these days? But then again, I shouldn’t have been surprised. These guys also used serving trays and fine china during their weekly club meetings. So, yeah.
…But if they were monks, wouldn’t it make the weekly meetings a religious service?
Julian—the owner of said handkerchief—sat at my feet, beside Damen. How long he had been there, I had no idea. Titus was there too, arms crossed against the top of his head as he watched me with a scrutinizing expression. My back was warm—Miles sat on Damen’s other side.
I had known they were in the room, but not quite so close! Embarrassment flooded my face. They had all literally sat around me while I cried like an idiot. This wasn’t friendship, this was…something else. It was too much, that’s what. Insanity.
Something must have shown on my face. As I accepted the cloth, Damen spoke for the first time in a while. His voice was rough and, from my current position, I couldn’t see his face at all. “Don’t worry, baby girl. We always sit in close-knit groups during our slumber parties. It’s all the male bonding. You’ve just been initiated.”
I half-choked out a laugh—now I knew he was trying to make me feel better. “Stop it.” I smacked his chest playfully even as I ignored the pang in my chest. He had admitted out loud that I was now one of the boys.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Answers
That was easier than I thought. I suppose the lack of distinction was made easier by my small breasts. But then, I remembered—my job. “The screens!”
I attempted to jump up, but Damen’s arms remained tight around me. But it was Titus who answered, “I’ve been watching them. But it’s really not important.”
“Hold on,” another realization. “What happened with you looking at my phone? Are you done?”
Call it morbid curiosity.
Titus frowned and glanced at Damen, who stiffened slightly behind me. Just as I suspected.
“What did you find?” It would suck, but I needed to understand how badly I had been manipulated throughout my friendship with Finn. “Just tell me.”
Damen sighed. “I’d like to know that myself, but…” He ran his hand down my hair, angling my head so I could see his face. “Are you sure that you want to know?”
I pressed my fists against my chest, as if the pressure alone could calm my racing heart. I nodded affirmatively. Why prolong the inevitable?
Titus’ face contorted into a grimace—he wasn’t happy. “Alright.” He held up a small square. “This is your SIM card. I’ve taken it—and your battery—out because there was a tracker set on your phone.”
I had expected this; but it didn’t stop the blood from rushing out of my head. Nor did it do anything to quell the anger that had begun to rise in place of my grief. “What kind of tracker?”
“A GPS tracker,” Titus replied, “along with other things.”
“What kind of other things?” Damen grounded out—his muscles tense beneath me.
“He’s been monitoring and recording her calls—a copy is forwarded to his account. The same goes for all of her messages.” Titus put the card down and crossed his arms. A mask of fury had fallen over the seductiveness of his face.
It was easy to remember that he was still seductive, either way. I had known about the calls and texts already. I couldn’t believe that fury looked so good on this man as well. How was this even possible?
“He also has a custom parental control program built into the browser. It acts differently than other similar programs. I haven’t been able to determine everything that’s been withheld, information-wise. But there’s definitely terms—phrases—that get flagged when you search for them. The system redirects you to a fake information source, limiting the information you can see. In my opinion, Finn probably controls and updates the software on his own computer.”
Julian’s fists were clenched against his thighs, and his voice was cold as he spoke. “He shouldn’t have the skill-set needed for that kind of programming. I thought he wanted to be the chief of police, or something along those lines.” He glanced at Damen. “How can he know how to do this? He can’t be working alone. What’s his major now?”
Damen shrugged. “That’s what he wanted to do when he was five, yes. I don’t know. He did mention something about electricity when we were home on the holidays. Hecouldknow how to do these things now. I don’t pay any attention to him—he wants nothing to do with us. The only reason why he’s at this school is because he has no choice.”
