–Damon–
I'd heard from my Shadow that Deanne had arrived hours ago and collected Caine. Five hours, to be exact. Yet here I am, still sitting in this damp, reeking cell with some bulky brute glaring at me like he's been paid to break my bones.
"I told you—stay away from my face and from my big boy down here," I muttered, my voice low and coiled with threat. "I know you're aiming for it."
He growled, deep and animalistic, a sound like gravel dragged over steel.
"Damn it." I hissed through my teeth, rising to my feet, every muscle stiff from the cold concrete bench. My boots scraped the floor as I crossed to the bars. "Any call for me?" I asked the man Livana had stationed here, a police guard in uniform but hers nonetheless.
"It will take a while, sir," he answered flatly.
I raked my fingers through my hair, exhaling sharply. "Damn it. Those two are still screwing around." My laugh was hollow, bitter. "Deanne, you're doing this on purpose."
