Unsuitable
Page 88

 Samantha Towle

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I silently wish for it to go off.
No such luck.
He lowers the gun and rests it on Cece’s shoulder, making her flinch and me dig my nails into my palm.
“This has nothing to do with Cece,” I grit out. “It’s between you and me. Let her go and—”
“You don’t get to make demands. Hello? I’m the one holding the gun here.” He waves the gun around, laughing.
He’s laughing like it’s a fucking game.
It probably is to him.
He presses the barrel of the gun to Cece’s temple.
“No!” I cry.
Cece squeezes her eyes shut, tears running down her cheeks, as her body shakes.
“I’m in charge here, Daisy. And I’m not letting you or your pretty friend go anywhere. I want to have some fun first.” He trails the barrel of the gun down Cece’s cheek and her neck before moving it across her chest.
My body is shaking with fear and rage. I have never felt as helpless as I do right now.
He hurts her, and I swear to God…
Damien leans his face down to the side of Cece’s, and he presses his nose into her hair. She flinches, trying to move away from him.
“I’m gonna fuck you good and hard, honey, and you’re gonna love every second of it,” he says to her.
“You touch her, and I will kill you.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.
But I don’t regret them.
Sick, evil grinning eyes lift to mine. “Are you and she…fucking?” The grin reaches his disgusting mouth. “Because I’m down for some girl-on-girl before I fuck the both of you.”
Bile rises in my throat, acid flooding my mouth, and I force it down. “You won’t touch Cece or me. The only one who’ll be getting fucked anytime soon is you. Fucked up by my boyfriend when he gets his hands on you.”
His eyes flicker with interest. “Is that so? Jason never mentioned a boyfriend.”
“Jason doesn’t know a thing about me. But my boyfriend…well, he knows everything about you, Damien.”
He straightens up and takes the gun off Cece, resting it on the sofa but keeping a tight hold on it. “And just exactly who is your boyfriend?”
I smirk. It takes everything in me to do it, but I have to keep this going. I need to scare him. “He’s someone you should be very fucking afraid of.”
He holds my stare for what feels like forever, and then he lets out a mocking laugh. “You’re so full of shit! You don’t have a fucking boyfriend. And even if you did, Damien Doyle ain’t afraid of no fucker.” He taps the gun to his puffed out chest.
“Well, you should be. You should be fucking terrified, Damien. Ask Evan Foster and Levi Betts. Oh, yeah, that’s right. You can’t, can you? Because they’re dead.”
“So? What the fuck do they have to do with anything?” he snaps.
And I know I’m getting to him.
I take a bold step forward. “Who do you think killed them?”
“You’re talking shit, little girl. Evan killed himself, the fucking coward that he was, and Levi was stabbed by a dealer.”
“Did they ever catch that dealer who did Levi in?” I tip my head to the side in contemplation. “And, you know, come to think of it…Evan slitting his own throat?” I give a shudder, pulling a face. “I mean, it isn’t exactly the usual way someone chooses to kill themselves, is it?”
He can’t hide the shock that ripples over his features, and through his transparent eyes, I can see his mind working quickly.
“Seven years ago, you and your two little besties decided to rape and murder a seventeen-year-old girl in Hyde Park on the night of her prom. Her boyfriend was with her. You beat him, tortured him, and made him watch while you defiled his girlfriend in the worst possible way. Then, you stabbed him over and over until you thought he was dead. Only…he wasn’t dead. He survived. And he’s been coming for you motherfuckers, one by one, and it’s your turn, Damien.”
His face pales, and his voice wavers. “What the fuck do you know about that?”
“Everything. When you’re sleeping with a man, he tends to tell you things—pillow talk, you know. And he told me about every bad thing you did and how badly he’s going to fuck you up, just like he did Evan and Levi.”
“You’re a fucking liar!” he snaps, his face turning red. “That kid was dead! I made sure of it.”
“Did you not check the news after that night? Or were you just too fucking arrogant? Or did you just not care enough about the fact that you stole the lives of two fucking innocent kids? Well, whatever it was, you fucked up big time, Damien. Because he survived. And he grew up with a lot of rage and hatred, every ounce of it directed at you. You created a killer, Damien, and he’s coming for you.”
“You’re fucking lying!” he yells, losing his cool.
I laugh. “God, I can’t wait to prove you wrong. I’m going to really enjoy watching Kas cut you wide open.”
“What did you say?” He steps to the side of the sofa, away from Cece.
Shit. I told him Kas’s name.
Holding my face steady, I say, “What? That he’s going to cut you wide open? Because he will. He’ll gut you like a fish—”
“No, bitch. His fucking name.” He takes a menacing step toward me. “Say his fucking name again.”
Saliva floods my mouth. I swallow it down, lift my chin, and hold my bravado. “Kas.”