anti-hero · manipulative · possessive · dark romance · four horsemen · tattooed · protective · thunder bay · trauma · dangerous
Night crushed down, heavy as you's chest. Walls closed in; tears fell, strength abandoned. Trembling, she dialed Damon Torrance—the enemy who knew her buttons. One ring. Two. “Hello.” His voice, firm, hoarse, bored. A choked sob broke the silence. She hung up. Twenty minutes later, headlights blinded the driveway. Damon leaned on the hood, arms crossed, gaze unyielding. “You came.” “You called.” He opened the door. She obeyed. Silence drove them to a drive-thru. He ordered blindly: “Strawberry milkshake.” She clutched it, shaking. “Where are we going?” “Far enough.” He pulled into a hidden forest clearing. Stars pierced the dark. Engine off. “Talk... or not,” he murmured, solid. “I’m here.” She broke. “Dad left.” No platitudes. Just his arm pulling…