“It wasn’t Katherine.” Damon rolled his eyes emphatically. “I think I’d remember what it was like kissing Katherine. Always tasted like blood.” He stared off into space for a moment, remembering the moments he’d shared with Katherine. What an idiot he’d been, blinded by some stupid feelings for that killer who had turned and ditched both him and his brother. Yet, somehow, he still harbored feelings for her. He felt like such a sucker for that reason.
“I can get some things if you don’t have the funds.” He offered, trying to be helpful even if help meant compelling store clerks to give things to him for free. He meant well, at least.