Page 27 of Tear Me Down (Descent to Darkness Trilogy #2)
“You're ridiculous.” I poke him on the tip of his nose. “But speaking of money…” I say nervously, feeling the anxiety churn in my stomach. His features harden again, probably already guessing what I’m going to say. “I would really like to go back to work tomorrow.”
“Ashia…” His gaze pinpoints on my eyes, and his seriousness begins to build.
“I know you took care of Emmett, but I can’t just sit around all day, Damien. I’ve done that for a week now, and Emmett said the walk-ins haven’t slowed since I’ve been gone. You know how many people I normally do a day—he’s got to be overwhelmed. ”
Another defeated breath inflates his chest, and a thoughtful glaze washes over his face. He thinks for a moment, and I can tell he’s debating whether to argue with me or give in.
“If you're going back to work, one of my guys is going with you,” he says definitively.
“You want to send me with a babysitter?” I don't mean for my tone to come off so bratty, but it does.
“Not a sitter, protection. What if men come back for you, and I can’t get there? You’re already lucky I don’t lock you inside the house and keep you there. I'll send Zeke with you.”
Now it's my turn to get serious. How can he expect me to pretend like Zeke didn’t rip his heart out of his chest last night?
“Zeke? After what he said to you last night, I could kill him,” I seethe, but Damien just shakes his head. The thought of killing someone else only adds to the rise of acid in the back of my throat, but I am extremely mad at him.
“I'm not worried about what he said, and he’s good, almost as good as me, and that’s all I’m willing to wager with. I don’t want you in harm's way, and I know he’ll die before something happens to you.”
I nod in agreement and take a breath through my nose, feeling the nausea start to build and the burning flare up, but I stay silent so I don’t throw up on him. He eyes me warily, studying my features in the way he always reads me, and all I can do is hope he doesn't notice.
“It’s just until everything settles down, and I can show you some things.
You said you wanted some training? No fighting yet, but we can go over weak points and self-defense moves.
” His voice comes off as concerned, but I can't tell if he notices how I'm feeling.
Taking a deep breath through my nose again, I compose myself long enough to respond.
“Sure, I’m going to use the bathroom first. I'll be right back.” I pat his chest once and turn to walk back in the other direction, towards where we were sitting.
Which, thankfully, is near the bathroom.
Ser is the first to notice me, and she eyes me in a way that tells me she can tell I'm uncomfortable.
Which means Damien obviously noticed it as well.
Shit.
Walking into the bathroom is like crossing the finish line after a long race where that last rush floods your body and releases.
This feeling certainly isn't one of victory, and the flow isn't calm.
It's nothing but wave after wave of burning acid, and I give into it as I throw my head over the porcelain bowl.
Quick steps echo between the small walls and travel closer as I hear the door open and close.
“Ash? You okay?” Serena asks, walking up behind me—immediately wiping the stray hairs from my face for me.
Once I get to a point where I'm only dry heaving, I nod, knowing the nurse in her needs a response.
I sit back on my feet and breathe through my nose to coerce my gag reflex to subside, knowing that my stomach needs a break from the retching.
She begins to rub my back when we hear the door start to open, and she instantly withdraws.
Her small footsteps carry her back and I can hear her wrestle with the door. “Damien, just give her a minute.”
“Let me in, Serena, before I push you out of the way.” His voice is soft but menacing—a warning that I know she'll fight.
“Or what? Are you going to rearrange my face too? She doesn’t need your overbearing ass suffocating her,” she exclaims, and a heavy tension fills the small bathroom.
The power of their hostility is palpable, like their dislike for one another might explode right here and now.
We don’t need another altercation today, and the last thing I want is a screaming match between my fiancé and my best friend.
So, I reluctantly stand up, feeling the room shift a little, and walk over to the sink.
“He’s fine, Ser. Let him in.” I begin to run some water over my face as he barrels his way in, stepping fiercely in only a couple of strides before I feel him behind me.
“Seriously, Ash?” Serena complains and smacks the side of her hip with her palm—almost in a tantrum. I give her a quick and desperate look, silently begging her not to argue with either of us. I’m not feeling up for it, and I’m sure neither of them truly are either.
Once I grab a paper towel to wipe my face, he gently turns me and pulls my jaw up, forcing me to look at him once again.
He looks into each of my eyes with complete concentration.
The intensity is like a dagger before he softens a little and plants his lips on my forehead, which I know is to check for a fever, and not just a kiss.
“I'm fine, Damien,” I try to reassure him.
“The fuck you are. I'm taking you back to the hospital.”
“No, you're not. I'm okay,” I insist.
“This doesn’t look okay, Ashia!” he yells, letting his worry take over, and I can only think to put my hands on his face—caressing his jaw gingerly to try and calm him down. He leans into me and closes his eyes as he takes a deep breath, steeling himself as I turn my direction to Ser.
“Can you give us a minute? Please?” I ask, but she glares at Damien, eyeing him like she wants to say something else or lash out at him. Thankfully she doesn't, just nods and walks out, slamming the door behind her before I look back at him. “Baby, I'm okay.”
“Well, we can call Derek and see what he thinks.”
“I already talked to Derek this morning,” I confess and his eyes narrow at me, piecing what I'm telling him together. “I called him after I got sick earlier.” I look away, not wanting to see the hurt in his eyes .
“This morning? When the fuck did that happen? Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice sounds pained—almost disappointed.
“Because—look at yourself.” I look back at him and move my hands to his chest, feeling the heavy breaths under my palms. “You are so stressed, baby. You’re having trouble sleeping, you're constantly having to look after me, and now you're taking on these soldiers. Not to mention you just beat the shit out of one of them because he looked at me wrong. You’re already on edge, Damien. I just don’t want you to worry. ”
“I love you. Of course, I'm going to worry, and now I have to worry about you hiding things from me?”
“No.” He tilts his head at me angrily, clearly not happy with my response.
“I'm sorry.” I am sorry. I don’t want to keep things from him.
I just can’t stand seeing him like this.
The stress of all of this is going to kill him if it doesn’t end at some point.
“I don’t want to hide things from you. Just like you worry about me, I worry about you, and I see what all of this is doing to you.
I just want you to be okay, too.” I watch his eyes soften as he takes another breath.
“I have not run a fever, there is no pain after, and the dizziness goes away after a minute. If I think something is wrong, I will tell you. I swear.”
He releases a sigh as he pulls me in close to him, wrapping his arms around me and cradling the back of my head in his hand.
“Does it hurt when you get sick?” he asks, much calmer than before.
“A little, but Derek said that will be normal while my stomach heals completely.”
He nods in response before resting his head against mine.
“What else did he say?”
“Pretty much the same thing as last night. He did say that it could just be a side effect that we didn’t see at the hospital because they gave me the anti-nausea meds.”
“Maybe we should ask for some.” He starts to rub my back soothingly.
“He offered, but I said no. I don’t want to put anything else in my stomach. I just want to see if it gets any better.” I look back up at him and he puts his forehead against mine, resting against me gently and nudging our noses together. “Please don’t be upset with me,” I whisper.
“I'm not. I appreciate you worrying about me, but don’t. I am fine. I can handle stress. What I can’t handle is you not being okay, and hiding how you're feeling from me isn't going to change that.”
I reach up and kiss his cheek to show my acknowledgment.
“I understand. I really am sorry.”
He nods at me and begins running his hands over my hips.
“If you insist on going back to work tomorrow, I want you to go home and rest. ”
“Mel and Danielle still need help.” I want to argue, but I know I shouldn’t. He’s just concerned about me like he always is, but I don’t want to pile more on the girls because he wants me to take a nap.
“They'll be fine. They're used to this kind of thing—it’s part of what I pay them for. I'll get Zeke to drive you back and stay at the house with you.”
Reluctantly, I give in, following him out of the bathroom and letting him guide me back to my chair. Once I’m seated, he storms over to Zeke, drawing everyone’s attention, and I just look towards the ground—trying to ignore the possibility of anyone else looking over at me again.
Daisy trots her way up to me, laying her head in my lap against my stomach and nuzzling in as if she can feel the shift in the room. I focus on petting her again, lacing my fingers into her fur and sucking in her comfort for as long as I can before I leave.