"You mother-cker!"
I didn't hear the door open. I didn't even hear footsteps.
But I felt the presence.
Heavy. Unyielding. Like the ominous feeling that you run out of toilet paper after you sat down.
I turned my head just enough to catch a flicker of motion—too fast, too close.
Then it hit.
A sharp, blazing punch to my cheek, cracking the side of my jaw like a thrown brick. My head whipped sideways, my balance gone. I stumbled into the kitchen counter, knocking a glass to the floor. It shattered.
"What the hell?!" Damian's voice rang out behind me, shrill and panicked.
I didn't even have time to straighten up before another blow hit me—lower, in the ribs this time. I folded halfway with a grunt, wind knocked out of me.
"You son of a b*tch," Killian spat, voice low, trembling with fury. "You ruined everything."
I coughed, tasted blood.
"Good to see you too, buddy."
