Dominating The Troublemaker

One Step Forward, Two Steps Backwards

~TROUBLEMAKER (Roxanne Grey)~

My mother wasn't the kind of person to hold her loved ones close to her heart, in-fact she pushed them away. It wasn't always like that though, I know it, but for some inexplicable reason I can't remember it. Every memory I have before the age of eight is a fog, I can't remember absolutely anything. When I told dad about it he just said that it's perfectly normal to not remember most of your childhood.

Yeah, for old people.

I'm seventeen not seventy-one, everyone my age can remember when they were seven. Nothing about this feels right, every time I try to think about my past an unbearable pain forms inside my head. Like my mind is forcing me out, somehow trying to prevent me from knowing something in my past.

Today is the last day of school before the long-awaited Christmas vacation, the break of all breaks. This means I won't be seeing anyone from my school until next year, not even Damien. Dad earned the week off which mean's he'll be home all day, which also means that sadly I won't be hanging out in Damien's house.

Actually it's not such a horrible thing since last time I visited him, it was almost impossible to fend off the monster in his pants. I'm still not ready for such a step, it feels like I'm a virgin all over again and that feeling helps absolutely no one. Damien especially. That man has been sex-free for over a week, and although I haven't known Damien Black very long, I'm pretty sure he's not the type of guy to not have someone in his bed at night.

Hopefully those freezing cold showers and photo's of old-saggy naked ladies I've been sending him have helped somewhat. 

Hopefully. 

Just as instructed, when dad left, I headed straight to Damien's house for my morning drive to school. It was ridiculously freezing outside! My cheeks started to burn within half a second of being outside. Guess this is the universes way of saying it's finally Winter.

Arriving at his house, which took two seconds, I knocked a few times. Then unexpectedly the door swung open, letting out a silent whoosh and behind it was Damien—correction a very exhausted looking Damien. The man looked similar to a zombie, except hotter. 

"Are you okay?" I asked, studying the tired expression forming on his face.

Damien rubbed the back of his head, and smiled faintly. "Didn't get much sleep last night."

"Why?" I pressed, was he drinking again?

He closed the door behind him, then grabbed my hand. "Nothing to worry about baby."

"Nothing to worry about?" I yanked my hand away from his grasp. "You look like the fucking walking dead and you expect me to believe it's nothing?"

A smile amplified on his face, it wasn't a real one, it was fake. "Could we just go before we're late?"

"..." He obviously didn't want to talk about it. "Fine."

Damien kissed my forehead then led me to the car.

*****

"I call your bluff Roxanne Grey." Chase announced. "You can't deny missing the Chase-Master."