Page 67 of Firethorne
I felt different.
I didn’t want to admit it, but I didn’t like the thought of letting her go. Of not seeing her again. Because when she left this apartment, that’s what’d happen. Life would move on, and I wasn’t ready for that to happen.
I couldn’t explain it any more than I could explain why there were so many evil people in this world, like my father, who lived to cause immeasurable pain to others. I didn’t know why this girl, who’d entered our world only weeks ago, seemed to have such a hold on me. It didn’t make sense. And yet, she did have a hold on me.
Maybe it was because she was a deep thinker, a reader like me. I found myself wanting to know what she’d read, what she was currently reading, and what she thought about it. I wanted to know all her thoughts and opinions.
I wanted to know what TV shows she liked to watch, what her favourite food was. I wanted to learn about the places she’dvisited, what she thought about them, what dreams she had. I wanted it all. I was like a starving man. I craved it. Any shred of herself that she gave me, I soaked it up. Maya was a quiet, thoughtful girl. A private person. So, to gleam anything from her, to be gifted her thoughts or ideas was like catching lightning in a bottle.
In my youth, I’d read fantasy novels about fated mates and destiny. I’d never believed in it, but maybe that’s what this was. Because what other explanation could there be for why this girl had come into my world and totally and utterly bewitched me?
I’d never admit it to anyone. I’d keep my mask firmly in place for the world around me.
I was Damien Firethorne.
Bastard son of Nicholas Firethorne.
Unscrupulous player, my father’s right-hand man. The type of person you didn’t dare cross.
But that wasn’t all I was.
I was a thinker too, a reader, a philosopher. I loved poetry and art. I could get lost for hours sketching something I loved. I was a dreamer. And that’s why I did what I did. I dreamed of a better world. I worked hard to achieve it. But there was always something missing. Like I was a puzzle missing a vital piece.
The longer I spent in Maya’s company, the more I thought that maybe, she was that missing piece.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Maya
He’d given me an escape in more ways than one, with the books that took me away from this cruel, harsh world. But I was never quite sure what was going to happen in my real life from one day to the next.
Who was the real Damien Firethorne?
He’d started out as a devil, who seemed to revel in my misery. But now, he was slowly becoming something else. A saviour, maybe?
From the depravity of that night at the party, he was beginning to show me a different side to him. Dare I say, a thoughtful side. A side I never expected to see with a man like him.
His daily visits often surprised me. He would ask me about myself and my ideas, and he’d actually listen to my responses. Something my own father had never done. In fact, I don’t think anyone had really taken the time to listen like he did.
But the nights were the worst.
I’d readEmmaon the sofa until I could barely keep my eyes open, then I’d put it on the coffee table and padded silently through to the bedroom, hoping I’d sleep better in the bed. A lot of nights, I’d slept on the sofa, but sleep rarely found me. Tonight, I’d hoped it’d be different. But as the wind whistled through the trees and rain began to tap on the windows, I struggled to drift off.
I closed my eyes, lying still, hoping I could quieten my noisy mind for just a moment to allow sleep to creep over me. But quiet and silent meant time to think. Time to play over and over in my head every little thing that’d happened to me. Time to question, why me? Time I didn’t want to have.
As I lay still, my mind started to play tricks on me. My ears hearing noises that my brain interpreted in the worst way.
Was that the creak of a floorboard outside the door?
Was someone out there trying to get in to hurt me?
To take me away?
Was it The Butcher?
I heard a rumble of thunder in the distance, and I jolted, sitting up in bed and staring around the room, watching the shadows of the trees dance on the walls. Taunting me. It didn’t feel right to stay in here. I wanted to put my mind at rest that everything was okay, so I got up and walked across the carpet, heading for the door.
I creaked the door open slowly, and then stepped out, taking gentle, cautious footsteps as I made my way to the living room. My senses were alert, listening intently. More rumbles of thunder and a flash of light made my heart skip a beat, and I reached out to hold the wall, to steady myself for a moment.
