Page 31 of Drowning in the Deep
I thought of Elisa and had my answer. When I’d left the barn, I didn’t know where I was going—but now I did.
CHAPTER21
ELISA
Iwoke up on the couch with an empty wine glass still in my hand. Disoriented, I looked around, hearing Sarah’s box fan whirring from her bedroom. That told me she’d gone to bed. Most of the night was a blur. I remembered getting drunk and sitting in her room, watching something on TV, but that was about it.
Sitting up, I wiped drool from my mouth and sat up, my head beginning to throb and my hair attempting to strangle me. Absently, I brushed it back over my shoulder and pressed the heel of my hand against my forehead.
It seemed like I was missing something, like I’d come in here for a reason, but I couldn’t remember what it was. Had I been going somewhere? Unlikely, considering my drunken stupor. Had I been waiting for someone?”
“Daemon.” I said his name aloud as it all came back to me. He’d said he’d call me back, but that had been hours ago. Anger rushed through my veins, but it was followed quickly by fear. What if he hadn’t called me back because something had happened to him?
Then it dawned on me that he very well might have called me back, but I’d missed the call because I was drunk off my ass. Setting my glass on the coffee table, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and checked to see if I had any missed calls or texts. When I saw I had neither, disappointment replaced the anger and fear I’d been feeling. Why couldn’t he even keep a simple promise to me?
I noticed it was past two in the morning. Would he still be out and about doing his mafia stuff at this hour? It was possible, but it had been nearly a full workday’s worth of hours since he’d said he'd call me back. Whatever he was doing, it must’ve been important. Either that, or I was very unimportant.
Letting out a sigh, I set my phone down on the couch next to me. Why did men have to be so fucking irritating? He could’ve just called me to say that he was busy and he’d have to catch up with me tomorrow. Even a text would’ve done that job. But no, he left me sitting here waiting for him for half the night. And he probably didn’t even think about me once. If he had something he needed to do tonight, why didn’t he mention it when I spoke to him earlier?
“Because he doesn’t give a flying fuck,” I muttered, shaking my head. It was evident that he could care less about me. Why was I so fucking pathetic? If I could just get it into my thick head that I was better off alone, I’d be a much happier person. All I really needed in this life was wine and houseplants. My eyes went to the sagging geranium across the room, and I wondered if I’d watered it recently.
Maybe just wine, then.
“I’m cursed,” I told myself. “Every man that enters my life is a brute and an asshole, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”
The only exception to that rule thus far had been Drake, and he wasn’t even as much a part of my world as I wanted him to be anymore, so I wasn’t sure he counted. He couldn’t stay in my life because he wasn’t a jerk. Apparently, only jerks were allowed.
“Fine. I’m done,” I decided. “I will forget Daemon Petrov even exists and accept my life as a spinster. It won’t be that bad. At least I’ll have Sarah.” Until Sarah got married and left me. I’d get a cat, but I’d probably forget to give that water, too, and that seemed far messier than forgetting to water a damn houseplant.
A knocking on the door startled me, making me jump a little as I tried to decide if it was just in my head or if someone was really standing out in the hallway at this hour. Once I got over my initial shock, I realized someone was there, and hope rocketed through my body that it was the only person I’d want to see at this hour.
In the back of my mind, I thought there was a chance it was my father or one of his goons. But then, would they knock? I wasn’t sure. What I did know was that I was up off the couch and bouncing across the room before I could think too deeply about it. I looked through the peephole to see Daemon standing there, looking down at the floor, clearly troubled. But then, that was his normal disposition, wasn’t it?
I quickly threw the locks and pulled open the door. Trying not to smile too wide, I said, “You’re here.”
Daemon walked in, barely glancing at me. “Shut up. I need to clean up,” he announced.
I locked the door behind him and then turned to look at him. That was when I saw the blood. Not only did he have it all over his suit, but he was covered in dirt and what smelled like soot as well.
A thousand questions raced through my mind, but I knew better than to ask any of them. Whatever had happened tonight, he was bothered by it. That was unusual for him. To be actually saddened by something was different for him. I had to wonder if something had gone wrong.
Still keeping my thoughts to myself, I walked past him to my bathroom and waited for him to join me before closing and locking the door. Sarah wouldn’t wake up with her fan on, not while she was this drunk. I didn’t want to disturb her, though. The last time Daemon was here, things had not gone well, and if my hungover memory served me correctly, I’d told Sarah I was seeing someone else, so if she saw Daemon here, I’d have a lot to explain.
Pushing those thoughts aside, I turned the shower on, letting the water heat up. Daemon was used to instant warmth from his water, but here, he’d have to be patient. I turned to see him stripping out of his clothes and tried not to stare, but it was hard. His shirt was off, and his muscles rippled with every movement as he kicked off his muddied shoes and unfastened his belt.
He was wearing all black, and it wasn’t the same kind of expensive suit he usually had on, though it was still brand name. I wondered what in the world he’d been up to that he was dressed like that, but again, I kept my questions to myself.
I hadn’t turned the light on, but I could see the tattoo of my own face on his arm in the thin moonlight filtering through the window high up on the wall across from us. It was still shocking to see, but I couldn’t focus on it, especially not now when he was clearly hurting.
Daemon slipped his pants and boxers off and then turned to look at me, raising an eyebrow. “You gonna stay to babysit me or what?”
“Sorry,” I said, shaking my head. I was acting weird, but that probably had something to do with all of the liquor I’d consumed. “I’ll give you some privacy.”
I started to walk past him to the door, but he caught my arm and spun me around. His eyes bored into mine as the inches between us evaporated. Heat radiated off his body. I inhaled sharply, wondering if he could hear my heart where it banged against my ribcage.
Without a word, Daemon reached down and grabbed the hem of my shirt, yanking it up and over my head. I stood there, mesmerized, as he hastily undressed me, tossing my clothes all over the bathroom. Then he stepped into the shower, tugging me along with him.
Even in the darkness, I could see the water rolling off him was tinged with red. We were soon standing in a pool of muddy water from all the dirt and soot in his hair and on his exposed skin. I grabbed my loofah and poured some body wash onto it, lathering it up before I began to clean him, not really caring too much if he minded smelling like vanilla and strawberries. He said nothing, only let me clean him.
