Page 63 of Firethorne
Lysander stomped away, and with a sly grin, my father followed him. But as he walked away, he called over his shoulder to me, “I want you on that dark web night and day. I want to find these people. Cut the head off the snake. They might think they can outsmart us, Damien, but we’re always one step ahead. Remember that. Always one step ahead.”
“I won’t forget,” I hissed under my breath. “I won’t ever forget.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Maya
He’d dropped one hell of a bombshell or two on me and left me to wallow in my pit of despair. He’d left me questioning everything.
Was he telling the truth?
Was he really working against his father?
Or was this another trick, a ploy to ensnare me even deeper into their web of deceit?
I couldn’t even think straight. I couldn’t fathom any of it.
And then there was all the stuff he’d said about my father.
My father had sold me.
How could I ever come to terms with that?
How could I believe something so wicked and heinous?
As bombshells went, it was pretty atomic. A nuclear ball of what-the-fuck aimed right at my heart, intent on shattering my whole life.
Even thinking about it made my nerves spike and my heart race. I felt sick, and I didn’t want to believe it. I couldn’t. There had to be another explanation. My heart didn’t want to grievewhat my mind refused to believe, so I buried the hurt deep inside. Until I saw my father again, and he could tell me himself what had happened, I would wait. I wouldn’t judge him. I’d hold my tears as best I could and try to get through all this. Take a step forward, even if it meant I took two steps back every day. I had to focus on the future, because I still had one, and I refused to contemplate what could’ve been.
I would survive this.
Regardless of whether Damien was on my side or not, the fact remained, they were a fucked-up family. And I had no doubt that what he’d said, about them trafficking girls, was all true. There were people out there who’d suffered something unimaginable at their hands, and I couldn’t bear thinking about it
But at night, when I was fighting the demons trying to chip away at my brain and battle the sins of my father that clawed away at my heart, I thought about those girls. I thought about where they were now.
What they’d endured.
What they might continue to endure.
And what I could still endure in the days to come.
Damien claimed he was doing all he could to eradicate the evil in this world. The evil that’d invaded their lives. But clearly, he hadn’t done enough, and there was a very large possibility that I was still in danger.
I didn’t trust anyone, not really.
I was all alone.
And yet, Damien visited me every day. Checking up on me. Guarding me. Claiming he was keeping me here for my own safety.
At first, I’d resented him. I rued the day I’d ever met Damien Firethorne. I didn’t want him here, invading my life, keeping me prisoner, haunting my every waking moment. But as the dayswent on, and his was the only face I saw, I began to feel a little less agitated. Less hateful. He was my only link to the outside world, and I never wanted to give that dream up, the dream that I’d eventually get out of here.
After he dropped the mother of all bombshells, Damien showed up at the apartment with a large cardboard box that he set down on the coffee table in the middle of the living room.
“Don’t expect the VIP treatment every day,” he said with his usual sarcasm. “But I thought you might like these.”
I sat on the sofa and stared at the box as I replied, “Is there such a thing as VIP treatment when you’re being held captive?”
“I can take these back if they’re not wanted,” he snapped, reaching for the box.
