Chapter 31
It was almost dark when they arrived at Damon’s cottage located near the Starved Rock State Park. Deep in the woods, she only saw a few houses behind the trees before they finally turned onto a small dirt track leading to the house. More rustic than a cottage, in her opinion. It looked cozy and secluded. And safe. For now at least. Damon didn’t say a word as he stopped the car. She followed suit as he went to unlock the door.
When he flicked on the lights, she was surprised to see a vast and open area, mostly white and welcoming. And clean. Quite unlike the man who rescued her, the dark and dangerous MC president.
He removed his coat and rolled his shoulders in a groan. “Are you hungry? The fridge is most probably empty, but there’s always food in the pantry.”
Deva went to the table and let herself fall into a chair. “Anything will do.”
Damon opened a couple of drawers and cupboards to finally present her with ramen noodle packages. “Here’s quick and easy for you. So? We have a little time before your friends arrive, what about we discuss our arrangement?”
Deva wanted to groan in frustration when all she wanted to do was take two aspirins and fall unconscious into bed. Didn’t these men ever sleep? Her headache had lessened considerably, but she was running on fumes.
“Sure, let’s talk about it. But you’re giving me way much more influence and power than I have in reality.”
“You are a Johnson, just having that gives you power.”
Deva snorted. “I’m female, and that alone removes any power I may have had. My brother Johnny would have been a better asset to you.”
“There are other ways to make a statement.” The way he lingered on that sentence had her rolling her eyes.
“If your idea is to talk about a wedding again, forget about it.”
A smile tugged at his mouth. “I agree with you on that point. No, what I was referring to was you making a gesture. Officially ally yourself with me.”
Where was he going with that proposition? “And what would that entail?”
Damon put water into a saucepan and switched on the stove before turning to face her.
“Only that. Be on my side, support my decisions, appear at a few gatherings, continue despising your father only in a more public way this time. Shoot him again for all I care.”
“As simple as that?” Deva rubbed her face before looking at her gritty hands. It seems that every step she took forced her deeper into staying in Chicago.
“You know my father will fight to get me back when he understands that this scheme is only to throw him off. And if he fails, he’ll try his damnedest to kill me, and possibly you in the process. He wouldn’t even care about a war if it meant revenge and gaining back control. You know the creature he is.”
Damon nodded. “I know, but every step he will take in that sense, for retaliation or revenge, will only expose his growing insanity more and more to the other MCs and his own men. And that’s what I want.”
“What do you mean?”
“I know I can’t overtake the Rows. The timing will never be good. But Mex hasn’t been the same since you left. It has been a slow descent, but undeniable. In the background, people are talking, and some are preparing to possibly overthrow him. An inside job.”
“Don’t you think you are oversimplifying things? You are expecting, hoping, that because I’m turning my back on my father and the Rows are already in an uproar, that somebody will seize the opportunity to take his place? Your plan relies too much on wishful thinking and suppositions, Damon.”
As the contents of the saucepan started to boil, the man only crossed his arms, looking at her. And then everything clicked in her mind. A flash of knowledge.
“You have an inside man in the Rows.”
He didn’t have to answer, it was etched clearly on his rugged face. Without acknowledging what she was saying, he turned to pour the soup into two bowls. But what troubled her, even more, was the idea nagging at the back of her head.
“Shit!”
Damon jumped at her sudden outburst and burned himself when boiling liquid splashed on his hand.
Ignoring the string of curses coming from her blond savior, Deva dug into his back pocket.
His hand under a stream of cold water, Damon twisted the best he could to look at her. “What are you doing?”
“You are a genius, Damon.” And without a backward glance, she dialed Gabrielle.
