Lights Out
1012 Words
Darkness hit fast.
One second Damien’s hand was wrapped around my wrist.
The next, the entire house vanished into black.
My breath caught sharply.
Outside, rain battered the roof while another car door slammed somewhere near the road.
Then footsteps.
Crunching gravel.
Coming closer.
Every instinct in my body screamed.
Damien stood instantly.
The movement was silent. Controlled. Predatory.
His grip on my wrist disappeared only long enough for him to pull something from beneath his coat.
Gun.
Cold fear slid down my spine.
“Stay behind me,” he said quietly.
Not loud.
Not panicked.
Which somehow made it worse.
My voice came out thin. “Damien—”
“Quiet.”
The command cut through the dark.
I hated that I obeyed immediately.
Another set of footsteps approached outside.
Two people.
Maybe three.
My heart hammered so hard it hurt.
Then—
a flashlight beam swept briefly across the front window.
I stopped breathing.
Damien moved in front of me automatically, broad shoulders blocking me from view.
Protective.
Possessive.
Terrifying.
“You have a back exit?” he asked softly.
“Laundry room.”
“Locks?”
“Yes.”
“Good girl.”
Heat flashed through me despite the situation.
Absolutely unbelievable timing.
I should not be reacting to that right now.
A shadow moved outside the curtains.
Close.
Too close.
Then a male voice drifted through the rain.
“Lights are out.”
Another voice answered, muffled. “Vehicle’s here though.”
My stomach dropped.
They were looking for him.
Or me.
Or both.
Damien’s expression turned lethal.
I couldn’t fully see it in the dark, but I felt it.
The temperature of the room changed around him when violence entered the equation.
“Go to the laundry room,” he ordered quietly.
“What? No.”
His gaze snapped to mine.
Even in darkness, it hit like a physical thing.
“Lena.”
“No.” My whisper came out sharper this time. “I’m not leaving you out here.”
Something flickered across his face then.
Brief.
Almost startled.
Like people didn’t choose him.
Didn’t stay.
A hard knock suddenly slammed against the front door.
I jumped violently.
“Mr. Vale,” a voice called calmly from outside. “We know you’re in there.”
My blood turned to ice.
Damien didn’t move.
Didn’t react.
The gun remained steady in his hand.
Another knock.
Slower this time.
Mocking.
“This gets uglier if we have to come inside.”
My breathing became shallow.
“Oh my God.”
Damien looked down at me briefly.
“You listen carefully now.”
The quiet authority in his tone locked my attention completely.
“If anything happens, you run through the back door and keep driving until you hit the highway.”
“What about you?”
His expression didn’t change.
“I’ll handle it.”
“You can’t just—”
“Yes.” His voice hardened. “I can.”
The certainty in him was terrifying.
Because he fully meant it.
He would stand between me and danger without hesitation.
Even if it killed him.
Something cracked open unexpectedly in my chest at the realization.
Another bang hit the front door harder this time.
Wood groaned.
“They’re going to break in,” I whispered.
“No,” Damien said calmly.
He reached into his coat pocket with his free hand and pulled out his phone.
One quick text.
Then he slid the phone away again.
“You called backup?”
His eyes remained fixed on the door.
“I called worse.”
Before I could ask what the hell that meant, headlights suddenly flooded through the windows outside.
Multiple vehicles.
Engines roared onto the property fast.
The men outside cursed immediately.
Then gunfire exploded.
I screamed instinctively as chaos erupted beyond the walls.
Shouting.
Running footsteps.
More gunshots cracking through the rain.
Somewhere outside, tires screeched violently.
“What the hell is happening?”
Damien moved suddenly.
One arm wrapped around my waist before I could react, dragging me against his chest as another gunshot shattered the front window.
Glass exploded inward.
I buried my face against him automatically.
Strong arms locked around me instantly.
Shielding.
Protecting.
His body covered mine completely as he backed us toward the hallway.
“It’s okay,” he said against my hair.
The calmness in his voice made no sense compared to the violence outside.
Like this was normal for him.
Like he’d lived in war too long.
More shouting erupted outside.
Then silence.
Abrupt.
Heavy.
Rain filled the sudden quiet.
My hands clutched the front of Damien’s shirt tightly before I realized what I was doing.
His heartbeat slammed hard beneath my palm.
Fast.
Not calm at all.
Interesting.
“You’re hurt,” I whispered.
His hand slid slowly up my back.
“Not from them.”
The meaning hit instantly.
Heat bloomed through me at the exact wrong moment.
God.
This man was going to ruin my brain chemistry permanently.
A knock sounded again.
Three short taps this time.
Different.
One of Damien’s men appeared at the broken doorway seconds later.
Scarface.
Rain soaked his clothes, and blood streaked one side of his jaw.
His eyes landed on Damien holding me against his chest.
A long pause followed.
Then—
“We’re clear.”
Damien didn’t let me go immediately.
Neither of us moved.
The tension between us pulsed hot and dangerous in the darkness.
Finally, slowly, his gaze lowered to mine.
There was something raw in his expression now.
Something barely restrained.
“You’re shaking,” he said quietly.
“So are you.”
A faint, humorless smile touched his mouth.
“Good.”
My pulse stumbled.
“Why is that good?”
His thumb brushed once along my waist.
Possessive.
Gentle.
“Because it means you finally understand how serious this is.”
I stared up at him.
Rain.
Broken glass.
Blood.
Gunpowder in the air.
And somehow the most dangerous thing in the room still felt like the way Damien Vale was looking at me.
- Writer
