Chapter 5

One week had passed since the accident, and I was getting used to taking care of Damien. He had previously made himself out to be a lot more difficult than he actually was. Occasionally he would be picky about his food or demand things to be a certain way, but he was always very lighthearted about it. Damien spent most of his day tapping away on his laptop a couple keys at a time since his hand use was limited. I offered to help several times, but he always insisted it was "boring work stuff" and "there's no need". Whatever he did for work, Damien held onto that information like a vault. I can't say I wasn't insanely curious.

My insomnia had been severe that entire week, and I often found myself sitting in the small balcony, overlooking the city. I was constantly thinking about how I didn't deserve such a comfortable life. Even aside from what happened with Damien, I never felt like I had truly deserved anything good, and the majority of my life up to that point had proven that theory.

I walked in one night to see a bright light coming from the nightstand. It was Damien's phone being bombarded with texts. The strange thing about Damien is that no matter how many people he seemingly got along with, not one person had come to visit him after he got injured. He seemed like the kind of guy who would have a thousand friends. That's why I was all the more curious when he was getting so many texts at 4 in the morning.

I know it's not right to snoop, but I had to see what kind of guy this was, right? I mean, he's practically a stranger. It's for my safety... Yeah. Safety.

Yes, through a roundabout way, I justified snooping through his phone. Unfortunately his phone had a password, so I could only see the text previews. He was being bombarded with texts from a guy named Ron saying stuff like "We need to take care of them for good or else..." and "The Brennans are asking too many questions. We have to kill..."

I gasped loudly, dropped the phone, and immediately regretted it while clasping my mouth shut with my hand. I gently picked up the phone and placed it back on the nightstand. Thankfully the painkillers made Damien knock out to the point a semi-truck horn wouldn't be able to wake him up. More importantly, what the hell kind of texts was he getting in the middle of the night? I lay in my little pullout bed thinking of all the possibilities. My imagination was running wild thinking of how someone his age could've acquired this amount of wealth.

Maybe he had inherited the money. If so, what kind of 'work' would he possibly need to do? Oh my god, is he part of the Mafia? Maybe he's a hitman. I lay flat on my back while staring at the ceiling. I couldn't possibly sleep thinking about a contract killer only a few feet away.

After some restlessness, I quietly walked over to Damien to examine him. He was definitely pretty rough looking with stubble on his face and a sharp jawline. His short hair was messy and wispy against the pillow. I brushed a few wisps away from his face with my fingers. His long eyelashes lay delicately against his cheeks. There was no way someone this beautiful could be behind anything malicious, I thought.

Before I knew it, Damien was blinking his eyes open and looking back at me, my hand still resting on his face. I pulled my hand back, but Damien quickly grabbed it. He pulled me toward him, arching his head up to mine. His gaze was strong, and the rising sun made his hazel eyes sparkle. For a moment, I was completely entranced. But I caught myself and jerked away. What was I doing?

"S-sorry. Couldn't sleep," I stumbled over my words.

"Hmm?" Damien rubbed his eyes, his question came out like a low grumble with his tired voice. "What time is it?"

"Um..." I glanced over at the small, digital clock on the bedside table, "6:42. It's still early." I shifted uncomfortably next to the bed. What was that moment just now and why was Damien acting like nothing happened?

Damien yawned loudly then turned to look at me. He brushed his hair back with the palm of his hand. "Wait... why are you standing there? Did I just... I thought I was dreaming."

"I'm going to make breakfast." I blurted out attempting to change the subject. I rushed into the kitchen and hid my face behind a cabinet door. I wanted to scream. Of course he was half asleep earlier. He had no idea what he was doing. But for just a second, it really looked like he wanted to kiss me. I shook my thoughts away and prepared his breakfast.

To this day, I don't have a single clue how a man who eats a pancake breakfast every morning keeps the type of body he has. I was getting tired of the smell of pancakes, but Damien happily ate every bite as if it was his last meal. He also insisted on being spoon fed for every meal despite having one functional arm. The first few meals, he would stare at me intently as I fed him. It was pretty daunting. After some time, he started watching tv or scrolling on his phone while he ate, but he still insisted I fed him. Every now and then we would have some polite chit chat while sharing meals, but nothing beyond that.

"Where are you going?" Damien asked inquisitively.

I was fiddling with the ribbon on my apron, trying to tighten it around my waist.

"I have work today. Remember?"

"Work?!" Damien seemed genuinely shocked as if it was his first time hearing about it. I rolled my eyes.

"Yes. Work. You know the thing people do when they need money to like, survive or whatever? Some of us still need to work."

"You don't need to work. You work for me."

"I think you're misunderstanding. I'm paying off a debt to you as a necessary favor, but I don't work for you. You don't pay me. I still need to make my own money." I didn't want to tell him that I still didn't trust him, or that if things went south, I had a backup plan.

"What if I need to pee? Who's going to help me?"

"It'll only be for a few hours," I reassured him. I picked up an empty plastic bottle and smacked it down on the nightstand. "Here. If you need to pee, use this."

Damien's face filled with disgust. I couldn't help but laugh at the sheer contempt he had looking at this bottle. I leaned over some to become eye level with Damien.

"If you need anything, just call. Okay? You have my number now. I'll make sure to listen for it."

Damien gave me a defeated smirk. "I always need you, Val."