chapter 15
888 Words
Damon slammed the study door shut behind him and immediately groaned.
"Unbelievable."
He stalked across the room, running a hand through his hair before tugging hard at the dark strands.
What had she been thinking?
How could she possibly believe she would escape so easily?
Even if that ridiculous rope had held together, she wouldn't have made it far. The estate was surrounded by security. She wouldn't have reached the front gates before someone stopped her and brought her right back.
The more he thought about it, the angrier he became.
"i***t," he muttered.
He wasn't even sure whether he was talking about Lana or himself anymore.
His thoughts drifted back to the moment the sheets had torn.
The look on her face and the way she'd fallen.
His stomach twisted.
What if he hadn't been there?
What if he had stayed away another ten minutes?
What if she had hit the ground?
A fresh wave of irritation washed through him.
"She could have killed herself."
The words came out harsher than he intended.
As he paced around the room, a sharp pain suddenly shot through his right arm.
Damon hissed.
"Dammit."
He rolled his shoulder.
The movement only made the pain worse.
A dull ache spread from his arm into his shoulder and upper back.
Apparently catching a falling woman wasn't as easy as it looked.
The study door opened and john stepped inside.
The older man's eyes immediately narrowed.
"What happened to you?"
"Nothing."
John raised an eyebrow.
"You were just groaning in pain."
"I was not."
"You absolutely were."
Damon shot him a glare but john remained completely unimpressed.
Years of experience had made him immune to Damon's intimidation tactics.
The older man folded his arms.
"What's wrong?"
Damon sighed.
"My shoulder hurts."
John's expression immediately changed.
"Hurts?"
"It's nothing."
"Let me guess," John said dryly. "This happened after you caught a woman falling from a second-story window?"
Damon looked away and john pinched the bridge of his nose.
"of course it would."
The butler stepped closer.
"Let me call the doctor."
"No."
"Mr Carson."
"No."
John's jaw tightened.
"You could have injured something."
"It's a slight pain."
"You don't know that."
"I'll be fine by morning."
John looked ready to argue but Damon reached for a bottle of painkillers sitting inside a nearby drawer.
"I'll take one of these and sleep."
"That's not a medical diagnosis."
"It is tonight."
John sighed heavily.
Sometimes Damon was more stubborn than any child he'd ever met.
The older man was about to continue the argument when Damon suddenly asked,
"Is she hurt?"
The question caught John off guard.
A small smile appeared on John's face and Damon immediately regretted asking.
"Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Whatever you're thinking."
John's smile widened.
"You were worried."
"I was not."
"You asked about her before yourself."
Damon rolled his eyes.
"Is she injured or not?"
John finally answered.
"No."
The tension that had been coiled tightly inside Damon loosened instantly.
A quiet sigh escaped him before he could stop it and john noticed, the man noticed everything.
"She wasn't hurt," John said gently. "Just shaken."
Damon looked away. At least all that stupidity hadn't resulted in a broken neck.
For several seconds, silence filled the study before John spoke again.
"You know, if you're this concerned about her safety..."
"I'm not."
"Then why are you more worried about her injuries than your own?"
Damon scowled and almost cursed. he should have gotten used to john antics but it was hard to.
"I'm not worried."
John gave him a look. The kind of look that said he wasn't fooling anyone.
Damon ignored it and jnstead, he dropped into his chair and leaned back carefully.
His shoulder protested immediately.
"Dammit."
John shook his head.
"Doctor."
"No."
"Doctor."
"No."
"You're impossible."
"So I've been told."
John muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like every day for twenty years.
Damon chose not to acknowledge it. Instead, he pointed toward the door.
"If you're done lecturing me, make sure she doesn't try anything like that again."
John almost sighed.
"Anything like what?"
Damon stared at him and almost tugged at his hair again. must he spell it out.
"The escape attempt."
"Oh."
"Lock the windows."
"They're already locked."
"Check them again."
John folded his arms.
"Sir..."
"I mean it."
The memory of seeing Lana hanging from those torn sheets flashed through his mind and his jaw tightened.
"She isn't trying that again."
John studied him quietly then he nodded.
"I'll make sure she's safe."
Safe, the word sat strangely in Damon's chest.
He wasn't keeping her here to keep her safe.
At least that was what he told himself.
Yet tonight, the possibility of losing her had terrified him far more than he cared to admit.
John turned toward the door.
"Sir?"
"What?"
The older man smiled slightly.
"You should be more honest with yourself."
Damon's expression darkened immediately.
"Goodnight, John."
John chuckled.
"Goodnight sir."
The door closed behind him and silence finally returned to the room.
Damon leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling.
His shoulder hurt, his head hurt, his patience was gone and somewhere upstairs, a stubborn woman was probably planning another escape already.
He groaned and rubbed his face.
Tomorrow was going to be a very long day.
- Writer
