The Queen of Hearts

CH.2

Third Person Point of View

Damon stood frozen as he trailed her tattoo with his fingers. Goosebumps covered her back in reaction to his touch. She was finally home. The woman he had been pining for was finally home. What had he done to her? He had gotten his brothers to beat her to a pulp.

Prez would have his balls for laying a hand on his long-lost daughter.

The sound of her voice broke him out of his train of thoughts. She was beautiful, even with blood covering her entire body. Her eyes were still the same though, as he got a closer look at her he could clearly see the similarity of the fifteen-year-old girl he loved.

Her demeanor was making him confused. She seemed content being chained up, beaten and bruised, her breathing steady and sporting a smirk lingering on her beautiful face.

What the hell could have happened to her to make her act like this in the presence of five full grown men?

"Tyler! It's been awhile, hasn't it?" She asked Deadshot who had rivers of tears streaming down his face.

She had been the daughter of every grown man in this club, Deadshot was no different. His whole demeanor screamed guilt for the pain he had put her through. He slowly approached her, seemingly careful of not hurting her again.

"Princess, is that really you?" He asked in a broken whisper. Uncertainty clearly visual on his face. Deadshot had always been the careful, analytic one. He would always confirm anything twice before even thinking about making a decision.

This was the reason for his patch as Sergeant of Arms in Hells Dragons. His analytical mind had saved hundreds of his brothers lives over the years, not letting anyone walk into eminent death.

"Well, I would certainly hope so! You really pack a punch. Did my father teach you that?" She smirked at him.

Damon stood opposite of her, intently watching. It was Kylie alright, but something about her behavior was different. When she was younger she would always be quiet in these kinds of situations. She never made a big deal about herself, and she was only this blunt with her close family.

The woman in front of him was neither of these things. Bold and outgoing, close to cocky even as her hands and feet were tied to the chair. There was no doubt about her beauty though, she had grown into a stunning woman.

The blood on her skin accentuated her electric blues as she was conversing with Deadshot. Her eyes snapped over to Damon as he reached down to gather his phone.

How the hell did she manage to see that? She seemed completely involved in their conversation.

Damon furrowed his brows as he stepped out of the cell. Prez would be ecstatic at first, then raging and if Damon survived his rage it would probably be relief.

His fingers lingered over the keyboard on his phone, giving himself a second to gather his thoughts. Damon dialed his boss's number and quietly listened to the ringing.

Phone call:

Bold: The president - Italic: Damon

***

"Prez!"

"I have to inform you about something"

"Can it wait? I'm busy"

"Sorry Prez, but you really need to see this. Basement, cell 3"