Love Always, Damian (13 page)

Chapter 14

Ellie

Three days out on the ocean and training is officially over. We’re in for the good stuff now, doing the tagging ourselves. Unfortunately, the first dropline was empty. Blake sits on the bench, his sunglasses on and a goofy grin on his face.

“It’s going to be a good day,” he tells me, waggling his brows.

“And you can tell that how?”

He looks at me like I’m crazy. “First of all, you’re with me. Secondly—out here, doing what we’re doing—this is freaking awesome, babe! We’re gonna tag a dozen today.”

“Oh yeah?” I’m skeptical because the most we’ve done so far in a day is half that number. But we did prep more droplines for today, so he might be right. I
hope
he’s right. This is what I came out here for.

“Yep. Big ones too.”

I roll my eyes because I know what’s coming next. It was all he talked about for the two weeks leading up to this trip. “You’re eager for that nineteen-foot hammer, aren’t you?”

Hammerheads are Blake’s favorite, while I like anything in the carcharhinidea family—requiem sharks: grey reefs, blacktips, whitetips, lemons, and tigers. However, everyone here would give a limb—maybe even literally—to go on a great white expedition.

“I’d die a happy man.”

I laugh at his swooning expression.

“Damn, can you imagine pulling one of those gorgeous beasts up from the water?” he continues.

“That would be pretty sweet,” I admit.

“
Pretty
sweet? A nineteen-foot hammer is better than ‘pretty sweet.’”

“All right, Blake,” Dr. Hannah Marsh, the lead on our team, hollers. “We’re coming up on that second dropline. Get ready.”

Blake dips the hook into the water. He pulls up the orange buoy and hands it off to one of the team members behind him, who slowly begins to roll the wire.

“Whoa,” he says. “This one’s tight. I think we got something.”

The first hook is empty. Blake passes it off and keeps going, the grin on his face widening. He sees it in the water before I do, and God, is it beautiful! I will never tire of seeing these gorgeous animals. The black tip on its first dorsal fin gives him away immediately.

“Nice one!” Hannah shouts out. “I’ll bring him up nice and slow. Elizabeth, Marcus, help Blake get that beauty onto the net.”

Hannah lowers the bed, and Blake guides the shark to it. The blacktip does some tail slaps against the water. Beside me, Marcus has the salt water pump flowing. I’m between him and Blake, holding a towel with my jaw hanging down to my chest. If this piece of exquisiteness is the only one we manage to tag today, Blake will still be right. Good day, indeed.

The shark thrashes as Hannah brings him up. Blake hands off the wire to me and takes Blackie’s tail.

“Come on, buddy,” Blake says. “Marcus, the pump.”

“Working on it, man. Elizabeth, turn out his lights.”

I lean over the rail and drape the beach towel over the shark’s eyes to calm him down. It works well enough for Marcus to shove the water pump into its throat. Immediately, our first catch of the day abates.

Blake laughs, and I swear the guy is glowing. I know
I
am. This blacktip reef shark is our first one together.

“The line’s still tight,” Blake says. “I think there’s another one on here.”

“He’ll be fine out there. Let’s get this one tagged first,” Hannah instructs.

I grab the tape measure. Marcus holds it at the tip of the nose, and I extend it out to the tail. “Five-point-one-feet.”

“I’ll convert that later,” Hannah says. “Get a fin clipping.”

I do what she asks as Marcus obtains the blood sample, and Blake clamps the ID tag onto the dorsal fin.

“Tag number is Y61107,” Blake says exactly the way I’d imagine him calling out his first set—professional and elated at the same time.

“Satellite tag?” Hannah asks.

“It’s going on next,” Blake answers. “You want to do it, Elizabeth?”

I don’t hesitate. “Yeah!”

“Clamp it on the—”

“Seriously?” I shoot back.

Blake chuckles. “Sorry.”

I lift the transmitter from the box and pass off the empty box to Hannah, who writes down the serial number. Marcus checks the water pump, and Blake’s hand roams over the shark’s back like he’s petting a cat. I have to admit, I’m a little jealous of that.

“All right, Blackie. I’ll make this quick,” I say, placing the transmitter at the top of the first dorsal fin. Then I clamp it in place. “Finished.”

“Great,” Hannah says. “Let’s get the hook out and get him back in the water.”

Marcus cuts the hook off, then holding onto the shark’s head, he pulls the water pump. Blackie is still fairly docile as Hannah lowers the bed back down into the water. The blacktip is revitalized and swims off to a round of whooping cheers from everyone on the boat.

“Pull in the next one, Blake. This entire line is yours,” Hannah instructs.

Blake winks at me. “Round two?”

“My fingers are crossed for your giant hammer.”

We don’t get one, though. Instead, Blake’s dropline has caught two makos, which we tag, and a turtle that we set free.

My dropline, however, yields nada. By the end of the day, though, we tag thirteen sharks, and neither Blake nor I can wipe the stupid happy grins off our faces.

This trip is so worth it.

~*~

Damian

On Wednesday, I leave Lia at home with Dylan so I can go to the cemetery. Armed with three fresh bouquets of flowers, I weave my way between the other headstones until I’m peering at the ones I came here for.

I didn’t tell Lia what I was doing when she asked. Instead, I told her I had a meeting and she had to stay with Dylan for a few hours. She shocked me by stomping her feet and retreating to my bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

“You got that, right?” I asked Dylan since I was halfway out the door. Plus, I have no clue what the hell that was about.

He shook his head, daring me to leave. “No way, man. She’s your daughter.”

I gave him a nod and a “thanks, dude” before I left.

Ellie warned me about the little miss’s attitude, but today was my first experience with the tantrum aspect. I’ll have to take care of it later for sure, because even I know not to let that shit slide. No way is my daughter going to be one of
those
girls.

“Oh, Mom,” I say, then I chuckle. “Wow, I could use some advice. Lia’s, well—she’s a girl. So far things have been good, but earlier today, it was like she didn’t want me to leave.” I rub a hand across the stubble on my chin. “I’m not sure what to do about that.

“God, Mom, you’d love her. She has such a big heart. You should see her with Olivia at the hospital. She gets it from you, you know. Always thinking about others before herself. You and Liam. Damn. The two of you could have changed the world.”

I sit down as if she was here, ready to indulge me and my problems and give me that motherly advice she was always so good at.

“I know I’m not cut out to be a father. And I know somewhere down the line I’m going to fuck up. Hell, I already did,” I say, thinking about the fight with Toby. “But I, uh, I care about her, Mom.” I pick at the grass, tear some out by the roots. “It scares the living shit out of me too. Because caring for someone this much”—I pause to steal a glance at the headstone two doors down—“means eventually you have to give them up. No one stays around forever.”

I toss the grass and pull up more. “I don’t know what I was thinking when I told Ellie to let her stay. I guess I wanted to prove to myself that I’m not a coward. But now I realize this isn’t about me. A week with my daughter, and I
am
a fucking coward. I never asked to be a father, yet here she is, and I never want her to leave. At the same time, I do, before I get any closer. I have seven weeks left with her and then what? Ellie takes her back to Florida, and I’m left here alone.

“What should I do? I won’t be able to take it when she leaves.”

I wait for her to answer me. She never does, of course, but I long to hear her voice regardless.

I hunch down to her headstone and place a hand over her name. “I miss you, Mom,” I say. Then I back up, adjust the arrangement of lilies I brought, and move on to Liam.

“Cubbies won.” I tell him about his favorite baseball team to start us off. “Beat the Padres two-zip last night. They play again on Saturday. Also, I need to talk to you about Ellie.”

Even though my brother is gone, talking to him about his girlfriend who’s now the mother of my child toes the line of awkward. “At first, I chalked up her behavior to first day nerves, but it’s been the same thing every day this week when she calls. ‘Hey, is Lia around?’” I mimic. “I pass off the phone, and when Lia’s done, Ellie gives me a clipped, ‘Goodbye, Damian,’ and hangs up. Does this sound like her to you?”

I wait a second before I go on. “I don’t know, man, after the whole fight thing, she seemed genuinely concerned about me, and it felt good. Really good.

“I wonder if it has to do with this Blake guy she’s down there with, you think? Lia’s talked about him, and she says they’re friends, but fuck, dude. She’s three. What does she know?” I rake a hand through my hair as I realize what I’m saying. Then I chuckle. “Yeah, you’re right, man. It’s none of my business. Ellie is out of our hands.”

Even as I say the words, it doesn’t sit right with me. I hate the thought that she might be with that guy.

Lastly, I move on to Kate. My Katie.

I do this in part to torture myself. Lay it all out there in case God changes His mind and takes me instead of her. Because that’s what should have happened. I should have been long gone before I ever entered Kathryn Browdy’s life.

“Hey, baby. Did you miss me?” I ask, sinking down on the grass.

I tell her about Olivia at the hospital, how Dad’s releasing her to go home and she’ll come in for chemo treatments two days a week. I figure Kate heard my rants to Mom and Liam, so I don’t repeat myself.

An hour passes, and it’s getting late. I should head back home to Lia, but I don’t want to leave. I’m safe here with the people I still mourn. Out there, among the living, that’s where their ghosts haunt me. Where my fears are real. Where the pain constantly pounds on me.

And I let it. Because it’s easier to be broken and feel nothing than allow the guilt and hurt to overtake me.

“I’d better go, Katie.” I stand up and brush grass off my jeans. Stepping toward the granite, I press two fingers to my lips. I place them on top of her stone. “See you next week, baby. I love you. I’ll always love you.”

~*~

I’m home before Ellie calls. I don’t know why, but I miss hearing her voice. The one that wasn’t hard and clipped and stubborn. Hopefully, tonight won’t be like that.

When I walk through the door, I expect blonde hair and big, blue irises to race toward me, happy I’m back. Then I remember her attitude before I left and disappointment plunges into my gut as I’m greeted with dead silence. Not even the sound of the television pours out.

I toss my keys on the counter and round the corner into the living room. Dylan’s there, on the sofa, with his laptop and headphones on. Lia is—

Nowhere to be seen.

“Yo, dude,” I say loudly even though I’m standing next to him.

He slides the headphones off and fucking
glares
at me.

“Where’s Lia?” I ask.

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, my babysitter takes his sweet-ass time putting his laptop aside and takes a drink of beer. Then he sits back and kicks his feet up on the coffee table.

“Where is Lia?” I demand this time. His silence is beginning to piss me off.

“See these?” he asks, holding up his headphones. “I put them on over two hours ago because she wouldn’t stop screaming after you left. From inside
your
bedroom.”

“She’s not screaming now, man. Have you checked on her?”

“Yeah. She cried herself to sleep thirty minutes ago. But let me warn you, dude, your room is destroyed.”

“Destroyed? What do you mean?”

The asshole has the gall to smirk at me. “Go see for yourself,” he says, and puts his headphones back on, effectively drowning me out.

“Shithead,” I mutter.

I make my way to my bedroom. In case Dylan is right and Lia is asleep, I open the door quietly and stick my head inside. The pony nightlight beside her bed is on, but it’s not necessary to see her. It’s still dusk outside, and small beams of sunlight filter through the curtains and land on her.

Curled up in the very middle of my bed is my daughter, sound asleep. Holding her blanket and sucking her thumb. She has one of my dirty t-shirts draped over her like a sheet with her tiny bare feet sticking out of the bottom. My heart thuds at the sight of her.