Page 24 of Damian
For a beat, the room was quiet. Then Damian’s hand came down on the table beside the files, his fingers brushing the edge of my notes. His eyes locked on mine, storm-gray and burning.
“You did good, love,” he said, low. “Bloody good.”
My chest squeezed at the praise, unexpected and fierce. I swallowed hard, trying not to let it show how much those words mattered.
But he didn’t look away. His gaze lingered a beat too long, and suddenly the air felt different. Heavy. Charged. My skin prickled where his nearness brushed too close, even though he hadn’t touched me.
I dropped my eyes to the papers, forcing myself back to the mission. “So… what happens next?”
“We use it,” Damian said, his voice rougher than before. “We use everything you’ve given us to tear Luthor’s network apart.”
River grinned. “Guess we’ve got ourselves a new analyst.”
I laughed nervously, but Damian didn’t smile. He just kept looking at me, like he was weighing more than strategy. Like he saw something in me I wasn’t ready to name.
And God help me — I wasn’t sure if that scared me more than Luthor, or if it made me want to breathe for the first time since Ruby was taken.
27
Morgan
The farmhouse felt different after they came back — louder somehow, even in silence. Damian and the others hovered over the map, their voices clipped and purposeful, but all I could hear was the echo of his words still burning in my chest.
You did good, love. Bloody good.
No one had ever said that to me before. Not like that.
I’d had editors send polite notes, teachers scrawl red circles across my papers, even Ruby teasing me with a grin when I stayed up too late at my desk. But no one had looked at me the way Damian had, eyes steady and sure, like what I’d done mattered. LikeImattered.
And it shook me.
I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to smother the warmth that kept blooming where fear usually lived. This wasn’t the time. Ruby was still gone. Luthor’s shadow was still stretching over everything. I couldn’t afford to think about the way my skin tingled when Damian’s hand brushed the edge of my notes, or how my heart tripped when his gaze lingered on me.
I picked up the recorder, pressing it to my lips, whispering fast and low. “Focus, Mo. This isn’t about him. It’s about Ruby. She’s out there. Scared. Waiting. You don’t get to fall apart over a man who looks at you like—” I stopped, cheeks burning even though no one could hear.
River’s laugh carried from the other room, Cyclone’s calm reply, and Damian’s deeper tone weaving through them. Even from here, the sound of him steadied me.
I pressed record again, softer this time. “He makes me feel… safe. And that scares me more than the dark. I want him to make love to me.”
The red light blinked, steady as a heartbeat. I switched it off, tucking it under my blanket, as if hiding the words could make them less true.
But deep down, I knew the truth was already out.
Because for the first time since Ruby was taken, when I thought of tomorrow, I didn’t just see fear. I saw him.
And that terrified me almost as much as losing her.
28
Damian
The farmhouse settled into a rare lull, River finally shut up for once, Cyclone buried in his data. But my focus wasn’t on the map, or the tracker, or even Hemsley’s trail.
It was on her.
Morgan sat curled on the couch, blanket wrapped tight, papers scattered around her like she was trying to build a fortress from ink and fear. Her recorder was clutched in her hand again, red light winking, her lips moving in that soft murmur she thought no one heard.
I did.
