Chapter 21: HELP

***Damian***

The gravel crunched under my boots as I approached the ostentatious house. Jax had no taste, I knew that, but the inflated facade of glass and concrete was a low point even for him. A monument to his arrogance, built from the blood and sweat of others. The thought that Celine was behind these walls, under his influence, made my blood boil.

I crept along the side of the building, scanning the darkness for security cameras. None. Typical Jax, I thought. He probably didn’t think anyone would be stupid enough – or daring enough – to challenge him. A mistake he would pay for today.

The front door was a solid thing made of dark wood and steel, a symbol of security that I intended to break. I felt for a key, searched the area, but there was nothing. Of course not. Jax was careful when it came to himself – but everything else was interchangeable. Including Celine.

“Never mind,” I murmured, my voice a murmur in the silence. My fingers closed around a fist-sized stone that lay in a carefully arranged flower bed. It was ironic how something so mundane could become a weapon. The cold of the stone bit into my hand, but it didn’t bother me.

With a swift swing, I hurled the rock against a window on the ground floor. The glass cracked, the sound of shattering glass echoing like music through the night. Satisfying. So damn satisfying. But not enough yet. A second throw, this time with more force, and the remains of the window finally shattered, the sharp edges sparkled like stars in the dim light.

A dark smile played on my lips as I looked at the debris. The sound, the chaos – it was like a mirror of my own inner self. Destruction was simply... cleansing. Speaking of satisfying – my body was still reacting to the thought of Celine. My cock was hard as steel, and the tension was pounding inside me like a second heart. But that was unimportant now. She was my priority. I had to get her out of that gilded cage, free her from the hell she was trapped in.

“You’ll thank me,” I murmured into the night, my words as soft as a dark promise. ”Maybe not today. But someday.”

I climbed through the shattered window, the splinters cracking under my soles. Inside, there was silence, an oppressive kind of silence that sharpened my senses. The room I entered was an office, large and unnecessarily luxurious. A heavy oak dresser, a leather-covered chair that loomed like a throne in the darkness – everything pointed to Jax’s morbid urge to demonstrate his power. But at that moment, I was only interested in one thing: Celine.

I moved silently, each step carefully placed, as I crept through the rooms. The house was larger than I had expected, a labyrinth of corridors and doors. But I had time. Jax was still busy at the club, blinded by rage and frustration.

My eyes fell on a large mirror on the wall, in which my own image was reflected. My face, a dark shadow in the reflection, my eyes full of obsession. I smiled. “You are mine,” I whispered, and the words almost sounded like an oath.

Then I heard it. A slight noise, a rustling, coming from one of the upper floors. My heartbeat quickened, the darkness within me stirred, a familiar companion, driving me on. This had to be her. Celine. My girl.

I took the stairs two steps at a time, my body moving as if in a frenzy. The thought of holding her in my arms soon was a pull I couldn’t resist. The tension inside me grew, an unstoppable throbbing that extinguished every other emotion.

The door at the end of the hallway was locked, but that didn’t stop me. A kick, firm and decisive, and the wood splintered under my weight. The room behind it was dark, the air heavy with her scent. Celine. She was lying on a bed, her slender figure hidden under a blanket. My heart was racing, my breathing shallow.

“Celine,“ I murmured, my eyes fixed on her. She moved, sleepily, her eyelids fluttering. When she saw me, her gaze widened, a mix of surprise and fear – but that would pass. She would understand that I was here to save her.

“You’re free,” I whispered, my voice a rough promise. “I’m going to take you away from here.”

She shook her head, her lips forming words, but I didn’t listen. It wasn’t important what she thought. Not now. She was mine, and I would protect her whether she wanted me to or not. I reached for her hand and pulled her gently but firmly out of bed. She resisted, her movements panic-stricken, but I held her tight.

“Celine,” I said urgently, my gaze boring into hers. ”You’re safe with me. No one will hurt you.”

But there was no gratitude on her face, only confusion and... fear? That stung, an unexpected pain that pierced my chest. But I suppressed it. She would understand when we were far away. When she saw that I would do anything for her.

My eyes fell on a black bag that had been carelessly placed on a side table next to the door. Jax’s doctor’s bag. It was grotesquely ironic that he had left it here, as if it would make any difference. I knew what he kept in it – medical instruments, maybe some morphine or other useful things. Things I could possibly use. My grin returned, darker and more mocking.

“You really are careless, Jax,” I murmured, as I took the bag. The cold grip of the leather felt oddly satisfying, like a tangible symbol of his failure. I flung the bag over my shoulder as if it were plundered treasure, and turned back to Celine, who was lying on the bed, wrapped in confusion and something I refused to accept: fear.

“I’m taking everything that’s yours,” I whispered, more to myself than to her. ”Even your damn tools.”

The bag might come in handy. It contained things that could help me when we were on the road. But that wasn’t the main reason I was taking it. It was a message. A small, perfidious triumph. I wanted Jax to feel the emptiness when he came back – his girl gone, his bag gone, his power a joke. Every little loss would remind him of what I had taken from him.

The leather straps of the bag creaked as I gripped it tighter. In my mind, I already played through Jax’s reaction. The shock. The incredulous rage. The moment when he would realize that he was too late, that I had outmaneuvered him. It was a performance that filled me with dark satisfaction.

I strode through the door, Celine in my arms, Jax’s bag at my side. The wind bit coldly into my face, but it didn’t bother me. The night was our ally, a veil that hid us while I reached the car. With a thud, I threw the bag on the back seat before I sat Celine on the passenger seat.

“Everything I need is here now,” I said softly as I slammed the door and got behind the wheel. My eyes traveled to her, then to the bag in the back seat. Everything was in its place. Everything was exactly as it should be.

The engine hummed and I pressed the accelerator down. The road ahead of us disappeared into darkness, the city lights became a distant glow in the rearview mirror. Behind us was Jax, helpless and powerless. Before us was freedom. Celine and I. And nothing, no Jax, no walls, no damned world, would ever separate us again.

Home? No, definitely not. That would be too easy, too predictable. Jax would look there first, I knew that. He would scour all the places he associated with me like a hunted animal, but my real hiding place? No, he had no idea about that.

My grin grew wider and darker as I thought of the place I had prepared. A small boathouse on the lake, secluded, hidden between trees that guarded the entrance like silent sentinels. Nobody knew about it. It was perfect. There we would be safe, far away from Jax and his pathetic attempts to stop me.

I wasn’t just prepared. I was one step ahead. The boathouse wasn’t just any place of refuge. It was equipped with everything we would need – a small kitchen, a living and sleeping area, hot water and electricity. And of course... my grin deepened, a dark shadow on my face.

“Celine,” I murmured, my voice a soft promise in the silence of the car, ”we also have a playroom.”

I glanced over at her. She was slumped in the passenger seat, her eyes closed, her body tensed like a spring. Fear had her in its grip, but that would change. She would learn that she was safe with me. I was the only one who could truly protect her – from the world, from Jax, from anything that wanted to harm her.

The car bumped over the uneven road that led to the lake, and the darkness around us grew denser. The city lights had long since faded behind us, replaced by the cold glow of the moon shimmering through the treetops. The tension in my chest increased, a familiar throbbing that accompanied my heartbeat. Soon. Soon we would be there.

The boathouse appeared before us, a dark silhouette against the sparkling lake. It was small, unassuming, with weathered wood and a roof that blended perfectly into the surroundings. But inside? Inside, it was more than a hiding place. It was a refuge. A place where we could start over.

I parked the car behind a row of trees so that it was not visible from the road. When I opened the door, the cold night air hit me, but it was like a wake-up call. My body was tense, every muscle ready. I went to the passenger door, opened it and leaned down to Celine.

“Wake up, angel,” I whispered, my voice soft but with an undertone that brooked no argument. Her eyes fluttered open, and for a moment she looked at me as if she had forgotten where she was. But then consciousness returned, and her eyes widened.

“Damian!“ Her voice was a whisper, a hint of shock and fear, but also... something else. Something that sounded like a spark of hope.

“Yes, my angel,” I said softly, taking her hand and carefully lifting her out of the car. “I’m with you. And I’ll protect you... from the devil.”

A shadow flitted across her face as if she had grasped the double meaning of my words. But she said nothing. Perhaps she already sensed that resistance was futile. She was here with me, and I would make sure that she remained safe forever.

I led her to the boathouse, my arm around her narrow waist to keep her from stumbling. Her steps were hesitant, her breathing shallow, but I felt her warmth seep through her clothes to me. She was so close, and yet she was not yet fully with me. But that would change.

When we entered the boathouse, I slammed the door behind us. The soft click echoed in the silence like a gunshot. I felt her flinch, but I ignored it. The room was warm, comfortably lit by a single lamp. I had everything prepared – a blanket on the sofa, a bottle of wine on the table, even a hot meal in the oven.

“Sit down,” I said, my voice soft but firm. She obeyed, her movements mechanical, like someone who didn’t know what else to do. Her eyes wandered around the room, lingering on the small details – the bookshelves, the soft cushions, the closed doors behind which the other rooms were hidden.

I went to the kitchen, poured a glass of wine and handed it to her. “Drink. It will help you relax.”

She took the glass, her fingers trembled slightly, but she didn’t bring it to her lips. Instead, she looked at me, her eyes full of questions she didn’t dare to ask out loud.

“Why are you doing this, Damian?” Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. ”Why... are you bringing me here?”

I leaned down to her, my hands on either side of her armrest, so she couldn’t escape me. My eyes bore into hers, and my smile was dark, almost gentle.

“Because you belong with me, Celine,” I said, my voice a rough promise. ”Because I had to save you. Jax would have destroyed you, made you into something you’re not. But me? I’ll protect you. I’ll preserve you.”

She shook her head, but her eyes betrayed that she wasn’t sure whether she should believe me or flee. The inner conflict was almost tangible, and I couldn’t help but find it fascinating.

“There’s no reason to be afraid,” I continued, while I twisted one of her hair strands between my fingers. ”Everything I do, I do for us. Soon you will understand.”

Behind me, the closed door to the playroom cast a long shadow, and my eyes flicked there briefly. Soon. All in good time.

“Get some rest, angel,” I said as I retreated, giving her one last intense look. ”You’re safe. And the devil will never touch you again.”

But inside me, something darker was throbbing, something that couldn’t be so easily reassured.