Mia's POV
The machine beeped loudly, the sound filling the room. I peered at the magazine in my hand, ignoring the heated gaze focused on me from the side of the room.
What if I had been too late? What if I had ignored my instincts to follow him to the bathroom? What if I had not heard the grunts from behind the door?
Damon would have died. And it would have been my fault.
I'd pushed him away. I thought I was protecting him by doing that, not knowing I was only pushing him to his death. I thought going back on our personal relationship would keep him safe. I shouldn't have said those mean words. I shouldn't have lied and told him I didn't feel anything when the mere thought of losing him drove me crazy.
I was never letting him out of my sight. Never again.
Even if he hated me and wanted nothing to do with me, I would stick by his side, protecting him.
I gripped the magazine tightly and sighed.
"What?" I snapped.
George's gaze focused on me intently. "What are you still doing here?"
I flipped the next page, my eyes skimming over the red lipstick. It'd look great on me.
"I could ask you the same thing, since you failed at doing your job," I spared him a glance.
The look on his face as he carried Damon out of the bar was engrained in my mind. I knew he worked for Alan and was spying on Damon but the way he looked at Damon made me realized he cared for him.
More than a spy should. In that way, I felt a familiar bond between us. We both started out spying on Damon, but ended up caring for him.
"I was following orders," he frowned.
"Oh yeah?" I paused and glanced at Damon's sleeping figure on the bed. "Look where that got him."
He stalked towards me and held my collar. I stared at him squarely, unflinching.
"You let the attacker escape, didn't you?" he raised an eyebrow.
The attacker was someone I knew.
A Raven mercenary.
He was the same guy I'd fought couple of years ago. He was a deadly assassin—like me. I knew the stakes were much higher when I fought him. He'd run away because he was injured. So, I knew it was only a matter of time before I saw him again.
Assassins had great egos, I'd bruised his, so I knew he'd come back for revenge. There was also the incident from years ago. Damon was in danger; it was why I couldn't let him out of my sight.
"Do you have evidence to support that or are you just gonna keep flapping that mouth of yours?" I asked.
He stared down at me, his breath heavy on my face. "Bad things have been happening since you barged into his life. Don't you think that's suspicious?"
I dropped the magazine and removed his hand from my collar forcefully. "You've had it out for me since we met."
I stood up. "Why?"
"I don't trust you," he jabbed my shoulder. "Who the hell are you?"
I glanced at Damon. He was still unconscious.
I moved closer to George and smiled. "Why don't you find out?"
"Trust me, I will," he adjusted my collar.
"Great talk," I smiled and went back to my magazine. My fingers shook gently as I picked it up.
Tara had set up the perfect fake background, but anything could happen and it'd only be a matter of time before my identity would be exposed. I needed to act fast.
Damon groaned loudly, and I rushed to him.
"Hey," I said softly.
His eyes met mine in a daze, as he sat up slowly. George rushed to help him, pushing me aside.
I scoffed gently.
"What happened?" Damon asked.
"You were shot," I said.
His eyebrows furrowed when he saw me. "What are you doing here?"
I was a bit taken aback by his cold stare. "I-I wanted to make sure you're okay."
"I'm fine. You can go," he snapped.
I wasn't exactly expecting a thank you for saving his life, but I didn't expect he'd react that coldly to me, especially since I'd just saved his life.
Just how much had I hurt him?