Chapter Thirty

“What do you want?” Damien asked without even turning around to see what was happening, his voice cool and calm. It was almost as if he had expected it to happen and had seen it one too many times to be fazed by it.

“Turn around with that bag,” he ordered, and Damien did exactly as he said, his eyes going towards my face immediately.

He gave me a slow blink of assurance, and I could only nod at him as I chose to believe that he knew what he was doing and how to handle the situation without anyone having to get hurt.

“Again, what do you want?” Damien repeated. This time, his voice was stern, as if he was indirectly letting the man know that his patience was wearing thin.

I wanted to remind him so badly that he was not the one with the knife, and this man could easily have me killed in front of him if he smelled anything that seemed like a threat. I didn’t want to die before getting my mother back. Not like that.

“What’s in the bag?” the man ask