Rory’s POV
Fuck that cold bastard!
The words spit out in my mind before I even realize I’m thinking them, searing like venom on my tongue. Damien’s voice still lingers in my head, sharp, and ice-cold, replaying over and over like a broken record I can’t switch off. The way he looked at me… detached,, as if I were nothing more than a problem he was forced to deal with.
He’s so different from his brother, Jaxon.
God, Jaxon is infuriating in his own way — cocky, smug, and constantly poking at me — but at least he feels alive when he talks to you. Damien? Damien is a walking glacier.
I slump back onto the bed, my head sinking into the pillow, my arms spread out like I’m surrendering to the ceiling above me. The room smells faintly of detergent and the motorcycle oil that seems to cling to
