Chapter 115

Chapter 115
Eloise – First Person POV

“You and I are not done yet.”

Damon’s voice was a low growl, the kind that slid under my skin and tried to burrow in. His eyes were narrowed, fixed on me like I was prey that had wandered too close. The air between us felt heavier, like it had been poured full of oil and smoke, thick enough to choke on.

I didn’t move. Not because I was frozen in fear, though there was a sharp, cold coil of it in my gut, but because I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me flinch.

Then another voice cut through the space like a blade.

“No,” Mike said, his tone sharp, clipped. “You’re done.”

I turned, startled. He stood in the doorway, broad-shouldered and still in his coat, his eyes locked on Damon with a heat I’d never seen from him before. And behind him, two uniformed officers stepped in, boots hitting the hardwood in slow, deliberate thuds.

The shift in Damon’s expression was instant. The arrogance didn’t vanish, but it changed, twisting into something colder, more calculating.

“You brought the police?” Damon’s voice carried a sneer.

“Step away from her,” one of the officers said, already moving forward.

Damon glanced at me, and for a second I thought he might lunge, might try to do something reckless just to prove he could. But then he raised his hands—slowly—and took a step back, his gaze never leaving mine.

“This isn’t over, Eloise,” he said, and there was a promise in it that made my stomach knot.

The officer closest to him moved in, handcuffs clicking into place with a metallic finality. Damon didn’t resist, but the smirk on his face made it feel like he thought he’d won something anyway.

Mike stepped further into the room, putting himself between me and Damon as the officers guided him toward the door.

“Keep your threats to yourself,” Mike said flatly.

Damon’s smirk widened. “Your dirty little secret is out now dumbass.” His words dripped with something ugly.

I clenched my fists, nails biting into my palms, refusing to give him the reaction he wanted.

“Let’s go,” one of the officers said, steering him out.

The door shut behind them with a muffled thud, and silence rushed into the space like water flooding a hollow. My ears rang. My heartbeat was loud in my throat. I ran towards the end of the room to find Max.

Max was on the couch, knees pulled up to his chest, his little hands gripping the fabric of his hoodie so tightly the knuckles had gone pale.

I went to him immediately, dropping to my knees in front of him. “Hey, baby,” I said softly, brushing a hand through his hair. “It’s okay. He’s gone.”

His eyes were wide, glassy. “He was loud,” he whispered, voice shaky.

“I know,” I murmured. “But you’re safe now. I’m here. Mike’s here. No one’s going to hurt you.”

Mike stayed a few feet away, his jaw tight, eyes watching us like he wasn’t sure if coming closer would help or make it worse.

I spent the next few hours with Max curled against me, coaxing him out of his silence. We sat on the couch, a blanket pulled over us, the soft hum of the heater filling the space. I kept my voice low, telling him silly little stories about the time I tried to bake cookies and ended up with charcoal instead. I asked him about his favorite superhero, and he whispered, “Spider-Man,” like it was a secret. I tried everything I could to soothe the traumatic experience.

Slowly, his breathing evened out. His body, tense and stiff at first, began to relax. By the time the clock on the wall clicked past midnight, his head was heavy on my lap, his eyelids drooping.

I smoothed a hand over his hair, waiting until his breathing told me he was asleep before I carefully shifted him onto a pillow.

When I stood, my knees ached from sitting so long, but I ignored it.

Mike was in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a glass of water in his hand. His coat was gone, his sleeves rolled up, and he looked… tired. Not the kind of tired you fix with sleep, but the kind that lives deep in the bones.

I stopped in the doorway, arms folding over my chest. “What did Damon mean?”

Mike’s head lifted. His eyes flicked to me, wary, then away again. “Eloise—”

“No,” I cut in, stepping closer. “Don’t dance around it. He said you and I aren’t done. And then he looked at you like… like there was something you weren’t saying.”

Mike set the glass down slowly. “He’s trying to get in your head.”

“Maybe,” I said. “But you’re going to tell me anyway.”

There was a long beat where he didn’t speak. His hands braced on the edge of the counter, fingers curling against it, knuckles pale. Finally, he exhaled.

“The bet was real,” he said quietly.

The words hit harder than I expected. For a moment, I thought I’d misheard him.

“What?”

He met my eyes, his own shadowed. “It was real. In the beginning. Damon—he… he dared me. Said I couldn’t get close to you. That you’d never look twice at someone like me.” He swallowed. “I played along. But it stopped, long before anything physical ever happened between us. I swear to you, Eloise, it stopped because I—”

I took a step back, shaking my head. “Because you what?”

“Because I fell in love with you.”

The words were soft, almost desperate, but they slid over me without sinking in. My chest felt tight, like there wasn’t enough air in the room.

“You… made me a bet,” I said slowly, my voice trembling more than I wanted. “Like I was a game. A challenge to win.”

“It wasn’t like that—”

“It was exactly like that.” My voice sharpened. “You let him use me like some punchline, and you went along with it. And now you think saying you fell in love makes it better?”

Mike’s jaw clenched. “It’s the truth. I didn’t mean for it to happen that way. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

I laughed, short and humorless. “You didn’t mean to hurt me? Mike, you started with the intent to humiliate me. That was the whole point of the bet.”

He stepped toward me, but I held up a hand. “Don’t.”

His eyes searched mine, like he was trying to find a crack to slip through. “Eloise—”

“No,” I said firmly. “Stay away from me. Stay far away. And don’t you dare show your face again.”

Something in his expression faltered, but I didn’t wait to see what he’d say next. I turned, walking back toward the living room where Max was sleeping, and didn’t look back.

The sound of my own heartbeat filled my ears.

And for the first time that night, I felt the weight of everything settle in my chest, cold, heavy, and final.