Chapter 15

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Damon's POV

I speed through the winding neighborhood roads, going a bit too fast I'll admit. I can't help it, my blood is racing faster than my car can take me. I don't understand, I can't understand, why out of all the girls I've toyed and teased effortlessly, without emotion, is she so damn different. It's always been my own little game of control, but she's somehow withheld from it for so long, always standing her ground. It's infuriating to be honest, so why do I find it so enticing? Is it the idea of a challenge; or simply aggravation that she's beating me at my own game? I feel my lips twitch up when I think back to a few minutes ago; she let her guard down tonight, I think. Then, the annoying part of my mind reminds me, yeah, but you let down yours first. I scowl and press my foot down on the gas pedal.

I reach my house and notice an extra car that shouldn't be there. Along with my parents' vehicles, there's a perfectly waxed white Mercedes shinning against the moonlight. "Fuck me," I mutter to myself before going inside.

Opening the door, I try to creep inside as silently as I can. I'm almost at the stairs when I hear my father's booming voice resonate through the hall.

"Damon! There's my boy, where you been?"

I groan as I turn and walk towards him, knowing that I can't escape his nightly check up and hug.

"Just out getting some gas before school tomorr—oomf," I'm lifted off the ground as he wraps his large arms around me.

"Have you lost weight? You feel lighter," he asks with his loud voice directly in my ear.

I cringe away from the ear-bursting sound, "No, you've just gotten bigger."

He laughs loudly and flexes one of his arms, "That I have!"

My whole family is very much into fitness.

My mom walks into the hallway, drying her hands against a rag, "Hey sweetie, there's still some chicken and veggies left over if you want them."

"That's alright, I'm not that hungry. So...where is he?"

My parents tense, they know my relationship with my brother is not pleasant. My mom tucks a few dark strands behind her ear, while my dad runs his hand through his short sandy blonde hair. Dad is the first to break the awkward silence.

"Why he's in the living room! Come and see; he's missed you! It's been five months since you guys last saw each other."

My parents both stride into the next room while I trail behind and mutter, "Not long enough," to myself. I enter the living room and sure enough, there he is, perched cross legged on the couch and smiling to himself as he spins a splash of red wine around in a glass.

"Carter," I greet coolly.

He raises his head, the same dark hair as mine not moving an inch in its groomed back state. We look very similar, there's only one difference: his eyes are as dark as a vacant cave, a brown so deep it's almost black. He stands and straightens his ironed suit.

"Damon, it's been awhile. How have you been faring?"

"Quite well actually."

"Good, good."

"So, why the unexpected visit?" I ask.

"Can't a man drop by to visit his family?" he retorts sarcastically.

When I don't respond, he smirks and continues, "If you must know, I have a case I'm working on that I need mother's help with."

"Really? What's it about?"

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