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37 The dance

Date = 22 November

Place = San Francisco (Inferno)

POV - Damion

“Hey, it’s Damion Grimm,” some guy says to his date and points. Fuck. I smile faintly as they walk past, feeling the pull of the scab on my lower lip. “He looks like shit.”

“I thought he was still in hospital,” he continues as they are walking down the red carpet.

“I heard he was tied to a pole in his underwear.” People are going to remember that one for a while. Damn, assholes.

“Heard he nearly died though.” The twins look uncomfortable. Yeah, the ‘nearly-died’ part scared them so good, they agreed to me dating their sister.

“He looks rather bad,” the girl adds looking back over her shoulder. I grinch, whilst the twins beam conceitedly at me as if they just got laid. They did it. Stripped me to my Calvin Klein, taking turns to fight me. And then they tied me to a pole — exposed.

“You do look rather bad,” Enrique huffs and straightens the jacket of my suit. Cameras flash frantically from the other side of the stanchions. I
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