Chapter Ten
Presidents run for office. Dictators steal it. Kings are born, and that’s why it’s the perfect way to describe Damon Scott. He commands any room he enters. He owns the very ground he walks on. And he wears that invisible crown with both pride and resignation, because it’s a bittersweet birthright.
Jonathan Scott ruled the west side of Tanglewood through terror. Everyone knew not to cross him, even a six-year-old girl in elementary school. One with an uncommonly good mind for mathematics. He would have taken me from my sad trailer-park life. He would have turned me into… what? A monster? A w***e?
I never found out because Damon sacrificed himself for me.
Does that excuse him for turning into a monster?
For turning into a w***e?
He leads me up the stairs to the room I know
