The Masterpiece Duet by Skye Warren

Author:Skye Warren
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance
Publisher: Book Beautiful
Published: 2020-02-11T00:00:00+00:00

THE QUEEN

SKYE WARREN

Prologue

Damon

The winter air seeps into the cracks of my bones, the seams of my skin. There are a million places where my body has broken and reformed. A million times that I remember with each gust of wind.

Despite the temperature I have my coat open, my hands on the rail. Showing weakness isn’t an option. My heart would stop beating, my lungs would stop breathing before I shivered even once. Any hint of weakness was stamped out of me a long time ago.

The man who approaches me looks left and right. God, he’s a sitting duck if anyone wanted to shoot him. The very picture of weakness. His cheeks are ruddy, eyes red. His puffy coat must provide decent warmth, but still he rubs his hands together in his cheap knit gloves.

He comes to stand beside me, looking out over the water. “Some weather,” he says.

A sitting duck, but he’s under my protection now.

On the other side of this river is a college teaming with bright-eyed kids. Brightly colored banners decorate the staid green lawn. This far away I can’t read them, but I can guess what they say. Welcome to Orientation. Join the math club. Sign up for this sorority.

“Some weather,” I say, because I’m as much of a sitting duck as he is.

At least when it comes to this girl.

“I saw the dorm room,” the man offers. “Kind of small, but I guess that’s the way of it. Got her moved in okay. She didn’t have much stuff.”

“You’ll send her extra money,” I say softly.

Knit gloves rub together. “Right. Of course. And I’ll be doing some work for you, then?”

What kind of work do you give a man who fails at everything? What kind of work do you give the father of the girl you can’t have? “Collections.”

It’s a dirty job. A violent one. “Yes,” he says, bobbing his head. “Yes, I can do that.”

Some boys have started a game of football. I can see them chasing after each other like fucking morons from here. What must it be like to run away for sport instead of necessity? What must it be like to tackle other men for fun instead of survival?

There are people on the perimeter of the makeshift game. Maybe some boys who want to watch the action. Some girls checking out the players. Is Penny among them? Does she see something she likes?

No, she wouldn’t be there. She would have found some library by now. Some quiet place to read.

“When you gamble again…” I say, letting the thought hang in the air.

“I won’t.”

This is a lie. Of course he will. “When you gamble again, I’m not going to kill you.”

“I understand,” he says hastily, probably assuming I’m implying some kind of torture.

“I’m not going to kill you, because for reasons beyond my comprehension, that girl gives a shit what happens to you. So you had better keep it that way, old man.”

He grasps the cold railing, leaning heavily on it. “I see. And what are your intentions with her?”

It feels strange to laugh in a real way.

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