Page 24

Chapter 24

Damien

I stormed through the halls of Crestwood, fury burning in my veins. Word had reached me that Holly had been seen talking to Logan on Ring Road. The image of that prick's cocky grin made my blood boil. I should’ve taken the time to send him back to the hospital, but instead, I found myself heading toward the rink.

She had another meeting, and that was where I’d find her.

As I approached the entrance, I spotted her just as she stepped out of the conference room. Her hair fell over her shoulders in disarray, a testament to the long hours she’d spent there. She looked exhausted but determined, like a soldier ready for battle.

The moment she caught sight of me, her posture shifted—she stopped and crossed her arms defensively. I could practically see her bracing for a fight.

I closed the distance between us, my voice sharp and cutting through the air like ice. “You went to Logan.”

Her eyes flared with frustration, and she exhaled sharply as if trying to release all that pent-up tension. “You’ve been missing for two days, Damien. What was I supposed to do?”

My jaw clenched tight at her words. She had a point; I hadn’t exactly been around. But it didn’t change how much I hated seeing her with him.

“Not go to him,” I replied, my tone harsher than intended.

She stepped closer, fire igniting in her gaze as if she could pierce right through me. “Then where were you?”

Silence stretched between us like a chasm too wide to cross.

Because she was right.

I had run again—my instinct kicking in when things got too real between us—and now it felt like everything was unraveling again just when I thought we might be starting over.

She shook her head, her voice softer now, and it cut through the tension like a knife. “Every time I get close, you push me away.”

I exhaled harshly, running a hand through my hair, feeling the frustration boiling inside me. “You don’t get it, little lamb.”

She tilted her chin up, stubborn as hell. “Then make me get it.”

My throat locked up. I wanted to explain everything—the white noise in my head, the scars that never fully healed—but how could I? If she knew the truth about my past, if she understood just how deeply I was broken, she’d leave for good. And that was the last thing I wanted.

I shifted my weight, feeling the cold concrete beneath my feet grounding me while my heart raced in my chest. She was right there, close enough to touch but so far away at the same time. I studied her face, searching for a sign of what she truly felt beneath all that defiance.

“You think you’re strong enough to handle this?” I asked finally, anger and vulnerability lacing my words.

Her expression hardened for a moment before softening again. “Damien, I’ve been through my own hell. You don’t get to decide what I can or can’t handle.”

The conviction in her voice sent a jolt through me. She had always been tougher than most gave her credit for—unlike anyone else in my life who’d crumbled under pressure or turned their back on me when things got rough.

“Maybe you’re right,” I conceded. “But this isn’t just about us anymore.”

Her brows furrowed slightly, and something shifted in her gaze—an inkling of fear flickered across her features before she masked it with determination.

“Then tell me what it is about,” she pressed.

I clenched my jaw and turned away briefly, trying to regain control over the tempest raging inside me. The memories flooded back—the pain from my mother’s cruelty and the suffocating expectations of my father pressing down like an anchor around my neck.

“I can’t,” I admitted at last.

I felt like I was teetering on the edge of a cliff with no safety net below—a fall into darkness waiting if I let go of the facade just long enough for her to see how shattered I truly was.

Holly stared at me, her eyes wide and searching. I felt the weight of her gaze like a punch to the gut. It wasn’t anger or frustration I saw reflected back at me; it was something far worse—hurt.

The kind of hurt that twisted the knife deeper into my chest.

“Then I don’t know what we’re doing anymore,” she whispered, each word slicing through the tension between us.

I stood frozen, rooted to the spot as she stepped back, creating distance I didn’t want but somehow felt she needed. Her voice trembled just enough for me to hear how shaken she was, how much my silence had cut into her resolve.

A part of me wanted to reach out, to pull her back in and drown out all those insecurities whispering that I’d only hurt her again if I let her stay. But another part—one too familiar with destruction—remained paralyzed by fear.

She turned away without looking back, leaving me standing there like a ghost haunting my own life. I didn’t stop her as she walked away; instead, I felt like a coward retreating into the shadows while everything around us crumbled.

The air thickened around me, suffocating in its stillness as I grappled with the silence left in Holly’s absence. Each heartbeat drummed louder in my ears, a reminder that every second ticking by was another moment wasted where I could’ve fought for her, for us.

But fear had always been my greatest enemy. The walls I'd built so carefully over the years loomed large now, a fortress shielding me from any real connection.

And yet, with Holly?

It felt different; it felt fragile and raw and terrifying all at once.

I rubbed a hand over my face, frustration mingling with regret. How had it come to this? How had we drifted so far apart? She’d entered my life like a breath of fresh air when all I’d known was smoke and fire—and now here we were, standing on opposite sides of an unbridgeable divide.

I knew if she walked away now, it might be for good.

I didn’t think. I headed back inside the rink, the cold air biting against my skin, and made my way down a secluded staircase that led to the underground fight club. Each step felt like a descent into my own darkness, the weight of everything crashing down on me. I could still see Holly’s face, her eyes filled with hurt and confusion, but I pushed that aside. Here, in this place where violence reigned, I could feel something else—something raw.

The underground fight club buzzed with energy when I arrived, the scent of sweat and blood thick in the air. The atmosphere pulsed with adrenaline, an intoxicating mix of fear and excitement that was as familiar to me as my own skin. I rolled my shoulders, shaking off the remnants of doubt and frustration. This was where I belonged—where I could unleash all that pent-up rage without consequences.

I scanned the crowd, searching for someone to take my anger out on when I spotted him. Cooper. My brother stood near the cage, arms crossed over his chest like he owned the place. He always had this way of exuding calm even in the discord; it infuriated me sometimes.

But it wasn’t just Cooper who caught my eye.

Everly Hawthorne was with him. She had blonde hair that fell in soft waves around her shoulders and striking green eyes that sparkled with mischief. They stood close together, whispering conspiratorially as if they were plotting something dangerous—or maybe just enjoying each other’s company. Her laughter floated through the air like music amid the ruckus surrounding us.

Something inside me twisted at the sight of them together. It felt like another wound reopening—Holly’s best friend next to Cooper while I wrestled with everything spiraling out of control in my life.

I took a deep breath, trying to shake off those feelings as I stepped closer to them. The anger simmered beneath my skin again—an itch demanding release—but seeing them together stirred a different kind of rage within me: jealousy.

I slowed my steps, each one heavy with the weight of frustration and anger. My chest tightened as I took in the scene before me.

What the fuck was he doing here?

Cooper stood in the cage, arms crossed, his presence both familiar and infuriating. His gaze met mine—steady, unwavering—as if he could see right through the chaos swirling inside me.

“You look like shit, little brother,” he said, his voice calm yet laced with concern.

I glared at him, feeling the familiar rush of heat rise in my cheeks. “You don’t get to say that.”

He sighed, a long-suffering sound that felt like it echoed off the walls of the underground arena. “Yeah. I figured.”

I hated how well he knew me. How effortlessly he could poke at my vulnerabilities just by being there. My fists clenched at my sides as I watched him step into the cage. He didn’t even flinch as he moved; instead, he just waited for me to follow.

“Get your ass in here,” he called over his shoulder, and something primal twisted inside me at his challenge.

Part of me wanted to walk away—to brush him off like I always did when he tried to play the big brother role—but another part hungered for this confrontation. The fight wasn’t just about my rage anymore; it was about proving I could still hold my own against anyone—even Cooper.

But as I stepped into the cage, every ounce of confidence began to drain from me. The crowd roared around us, but all I could hear was the thudding of my heart and the echoing whispers of Holly’s last words ringing in my ears.

“Damien…”

Damn it.

She wasn’t here, but she haunted every thought that flickered through my mind like a ghost refusing to let go.

Cooper’s stance shifted slightly as he studied me. His eyes narrowed slightly; there was no judgment there—just an expectation that felt suffocating.

I squared my shoulders and met his gaze head-on. If this was going to be a fight—a reckoning—I wouldn’t back down from it.

“Let’s do this,” I growled, already feeling that familiar rush of adrenaline surge through my veins as we circled each other in the cage.

The first punch landed hard, and I barely had time to brace myself. Cooper didn’t hold back, driving his fist into my gut with a force that knocked the wind from my lungs. I staggered back but quickly regained my footing. Adrenaline surged through me like wildfire; I wouldn’t let him take control.

I swung at him, my fist connecting with his jaw. The impact sent a satisfying jolt up my arm, but Cooper just grinned. He was bigger and stronger, every bit the older brother who had always towered over me in both size and composure. But I was faster, fueled by desperation—by all the chaos swirling in my head that needed an outlet.

He blocked my next punch with ease, exhaling sharply between hits as if he were trying to keep his breath steady while I struggled to catch mine.

“You gonna talk about it?” he asked, his voice calm despite the chaos of fists and sweat around us.

“About what?” I snapped back, swinging harder this time, desperation driving me forward. I couldn’t let him get inside my head—not now.

“Mom.”

I froze for half a second—just long enough for him to clock me hard on the side of my face. Pain exploded across my skull as I hit the ground, the world spinning around me. Blood pooled in my mouth from where I bit down too hard on my tongue.

I spat onto the floor as I pushed myself up, growling through gritted teeth. He stood there like a statue, unfazed and waiting for me to make the next move.

“You don’t know shit,” I spat, my voice low and laced with venom.

Cooper didn’t hit me again. He just stood there, unyielding, eyes locked onto mine like he was trying to peel back the layers of whatever facade I had left.

“I know something happened. You think I never noticed?” he said, his tone even but firm.

My heart pounded in my chest, each beat a relentless reminder of how tightly coiled the tension between us had become. My skin felt too tight, suffocating under the weight of his scrutiny. This was the one thing I wouldn’t talk about—the one thing no one ever believed.

I scoffed, wiping blood from my mouth with the back of my hand. “And if I did tell you? You’d believe me?”

Cooper didn’t flinch. “I would.”

His words hung in the air like a lifeline thrown into stormy seas. No one had ever said that to me before—not when it mattered most. My throat burned as emotions churned within me, a mix of anger and something else I couldn’t quite name.

“What do you want me to say?” I shot back, irritation coating my voice. “You think you know what goes on inside my head?”

“I’m not trying to read your mind,” he replied calmly, stepping closer. “But I can see it’s eating you alive.”

The truth hit harder than any punch Cooper had thrown earlier. It was all too raw—too real—like an open wound refusing to heal no matter how many times I tried to cover it up. The memories surged forward: every taunt from my mother, every moment of helplessness that lingered long after she left the room.

“Maybe it should eat me alive,” I hissed, rage surging again as I struggled to keep myself together.

“You don’t really mean that,” Cooper said softly, his gaze unwavering.

A flicker of doubt crossed my mind—was he right? But there was a part of me that craved the chaos; it was familiar and twistedly comforting in its own way.

“It doesn’t matter,” I finally said, forcing indifference into my tone as if that could shield me from the truth clawing at my insides.

“It matters to me.”

I stepped out of the ring, the air outside was cool against my flushed skin. The adrenaline still coursed through my veins, but it felt different now—charged with something more than just anger or excitement.

Everly stood nearby, her presence grounding the moment. She had a way of being there without demanding anything from me, just watching quietly, as if she understood the storm raging inside.

Cooper shook his head slowly, his voice softer than I expected. “Mom doesn’t own you, Damien. And neither does Dad.”

I exhaled sharply, rolling my shoulders in an attempt to shake off the tension coiling around me like a noose. “Dad never gave a shit about me. He only ever cared about you.”

Cooper’s jaw tightened at my words. He glanced at Everly then back at me, and for a split second, I felt exposed under their scrutiny.

Everly squeezed Cooper’s hand. She didn’t say a word but somehow made the silence feel less suffocating.

“Dad caused my scars,” Cooper said, his voice steady and low. “Not hockey.”

The world tilted on its axis at that revelation. I blinked, confusion flooding my mind. That… that wasn’t right. How could he say that? Hockey was the only thing we had left—the one thing our father had pushed us both into as if it would fix everything broken between us.

“No,” I shot back instinctively, clenching my fists as if I could physically grasp the truth and bend it to fit what I wanted to believe. “You’re wrong.”

Cooper held my gaze firmly. “No, Damien.” His tone remained unwavering.

The knot in my stomach twisted tighter as doubt gnawed at me like a feral animal. Had I really let this cycle of pain and pressure continue? Did our father’s obsession truly infect us both?

Dad never touched Cooper. Cooper was the golden boy. The one who left.

As I stood there, fists clenched at my sides, my brother kept going, his voice steady and unwavering. “You were always too busy surviving Mom. You never saw what he did to me.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, and I swayed slightly on my feet. My stomach clenched tight as everything I thought I knew began to unravel around me. The walls of my carefully constructed reality trembled under the weight of his accusation.

Cooper sighed, running a hand through his hair, a familiar gesture that used to mean he was at his wit's end. “Mom and Everly’s dad had an affair.”

I didn’t react, because I already fucking knew. It was the only time I was free from her grasp—the only time I could breathe without feeling her suffocating presence smothering me with expectations.

Cooper studied me for a moment, assessing the storm brewing in my eyes before he nodded toward Everly, standing quietly by his side, concern etched across her features. Then he turned back to me, and the air crackled with unspoken tension.

“Move in with me.”

The suggestion hung between us like an anchor thrown into turbulent waters. My mind raced as I processed the offer—part of me recoiling at the idea of uprooting everything once more while another part craved the escape it promised.

I opened my mouth to respond but found no words came out—only silence filled the space where my thoughts collided chaotically against each other.

“Damien?” he pressed gently, his gaze unwavering.

It was maddening how he expected an answer—how he thought it could be that simple after all this time spent battling our demons separately.

But maybe… maybe it could be different if I let him in—if I dared to believe that moving away from this mess could offer something resembling normalcy for once.

Yet doubt flickered through my mind like lightning in a storm—a reminder that every time I'd reached out for something better, it had only slipped through my fingers like smoke.

I scoffed, disbelief coating my words like a bitter aftertaste. “You think one fight fixes this? You left, Cooper.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Cooper didn’t argue; he simply looked away, jaw tight as if bracing against the weight of unspoken truths.

He knew.

He fucking knew.

The two people standing here offered something I’d never had: a choice. A way out. A fucking home.

I exhaled sharply, my heart hammering against my ribcage as if trying to break free from the cage I’d built around myself. The weight of their gaze pressed down on me like a heavy blanket, suffocating yet oddly comforting.

“Damien,” Cooper said quietly, his voice breaking through the haze of my thoughts. “You don’t have to keep fighting this alone.”

But could I trust them? Could I trust him? My mother’s cold touch still haunted me, her words echoing in my mind as if she were lurking just out of sight, ready to pounce.

“Everything is different now,” I muttered under my breath, though deep down, I wasn’t sure if I meant it for them or myself.

Everly tilted her head slightly, those bright green eyes searching mine as if trying to decipher a riddle only she could solve. “You can come stay with us until you figure things out,” she offered softly.

A part of me wanted to scream at her—to push them both away and retreat into the darkness where I felt most at home. But another part—a flicker of hope buried deep beneath layers of hurt—yearned for the warmth they offered.

I stood frozen between two worlds: one that cradled me in chaos and despair and another that glimmered with promise but terrified me all the same. How could I ever let go of what I knew?

He took a step closer, his expression shifting from concern to determination as he spoke again. “You’re not alone in this, Damien.”

Fuck.

Pretty words.

But still…

I wanted to believe him, but how could I? I didn’t know what to do with this choice being handed to me, and I doubted I ever would.