Love Always, Damian (20 page)

Knock. Knock. Knock.

I turn away from the sink. Lia says something to me, but I don’t hear her. I’m focused on the front door.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The sound is louder this time.

I have to face Ellie. Already, though, I can sense the disappointment clouding those gorgeous pale blues of hers, and that might break me more than what she has to say.

I swallow as I reach for the door.

I swing it open. Ellie’s standing there, eyes red from tears, no makeup, and blonde hair oily from running her fingers through it over the last 24 hours. She stares at me, mouth trembling, like she wants me to say something first. As if somehow I have the power to erase the last couple of days with the right words.

I can’t, though. I can’t even make my lips move, because the only thing I’m thinking is how much I want to pull her into my arms and hold her against me. Take all the tears I’ve made her cry and bury them where they can no longer hurt her.

That’s why I don’t say anything. Why her pleading gaze slowly morphs into the one thing I feared that twists the knife, leaving me to nothing.

“Where is she?” Ellie asks, her voice small yet tough at the same time.

I’m about to answer when, from behind me, I hear Lia cry out, “Mommy!”

She zips past me and straight into her mother’s open arms.

“Lia-Kat. Oh, baby,” Ellie murmurs, clutching Lia against her. “Sweetheart, I love you so much. So very much.”

“I love you too, Mommy. I missed you,” Lia answers.

Fresh tears stream down Ellie’s cheeks as she holds Lia tighter. I take a step backward, further away, distancing myself from them. Mother and daughter—the way it was before me.

The way it’s supposed to be.

I back up a little more. Neither of them watch me. They’re wrapped up in each other, Ellie clinging onto Lia for life.

Even in her state, Ellie is gorgeous. Motherhood suits her well, and she’s good at it. Lia is safe with her.

I tear my gaze off them. Emptiness spreads throughout me even though they’re still here. Ellie hasn’t yelled at me, and I think I need that punishment from her in order to feel again.

Fuck knows I deserve it.

Finally, Ellie’s eyes lift to mine. There’s pain in them. Pain I’ve seen a thousand times, but at this moment, it shoots into the pit of my stomach. Because this time, I caused it.

And I can’t do shit about it.

Again, Ellie holds my gaze, begging me to say something, but all I have is “I’m sorry,” and that doesn’t seem to cut it.

Another tear slips down her cheek, and it kills me to not rush over and brush it away. Together, we’ve put this distance between us, and both of us are better off moving on.

Besides, she has Blake, and I have…

Lia looks at me, and slowly her smile fades as if she realizes what’s happening.

“Daddy?” she says.

I’m at the entrance to the kitchen now. I shoot a quick glance over my shoulder, pin-pointing her favorite blanket, the one the K-9 unit used to find her. She’ll want that on the way home.

I catch Ellie’s stare again, but I duck into the kitchen before I break down and go to her. I grab Lia’s blanket from her chair and make my way back out to the living room. Ellie’s standing, both hands on Lia’s shoulders. I stop a few feet from my daughter and hold out the blanket to her.

“You’ll want this,” I say.

“I don’t want to go,” she whispers. She understands now. Her eyes glisten with moisture, and I’ll be damned if I stick around to see anything fall from them.

“You belong with your mom,” I tell her, refusing to look at Ellie. “Go.”

Lia shakes her head. “Come with us.”

“I can’t, Lia.”

Her lower lip juts out, and she breaks free of Ellie’s hold, running to me. She throws her tiny arms around my leg.

“You said you wouldn’t leave me,” she cries. “You promised!”

I reach down and smooth my hand over her head. A bullet rips through my chest as she turns those pretty blue eyes on me.

“I’m not the one leaving, Lia. You are.”

I’m an asshole.

“But…”

“Lia,” Ellie says. “Come on, our plane leaves in two hours.”

Little arms release me, and I’ve never been more alone. Lia remains focused on me, though. Ellie puts an arm around her shoulders and leads her toward my front door. Lia’s brows pinch together, waiting for me to come get her. But I don’t move.

Ellie opens the door, and Lia steps out onto the porch. That’s when she finally looks away, putting a gaping hole in my heart.

“Wait there,” Ellie tells her, then she faces me. “Damian, I—”

I cut her off. “I’ll mail you her things.”

“Thank you,” she murmurs.

She reaches for the door again. “Damian, about…everything, I…”

“I know, Elle. Just go.”

Ellie’s gaze pierces into me, and if she doesn’t leave soon, I’m going to do something I’ll regret.

“Go,” I say again.

“Goodbye, Damian.” Ellie’s voice is barely above a whisper, but it rings loud in my head. Two words I loathe, grating in my mind.

The door clicks shut behind her. A minute later, headlights filter in through the windows. I ball my hands into fists, squeeze my eyes shut so I don’t see them leave.

For once in my shitty-ass existence, I’m doing the right thing. So why the hell does it hurt so bad?

I head to my room so I don’t hear the car back out of the driveway. Lia’s bed sits unmade against the wall, her pink My Little Pony jammies spread out on her pillow. The book she picked out for tonight lays at the foot of my own bed.

I even smell the faint scent of her in the air—bubble bath and baby powder.

Death stole Mom, Liam, and Kate away from me. Now, life has taken Lia and Ellie.

This—right here, right now—is why loving someone is hell. Becoming attached to someone isn’t worth the pain you suffer when they’re gone.

Goddammit!

I pull Kate’s necklace from my pocket without looking at it. The reminder of times lost isn’t something I want to deal with tonight. I drop it back in the box, shove it in my dresser drawer, and slam the drawer closed. The picture of Brennan with Mickey falls forward, and Twilight Sparkle tumbles to the floor.

Fuck. It. All.

Chapter 24

Ellie

It’s hard to ignore the fact that Lia cried herself to sleep in the seat beside me. Each quiet sob stabbed me through the heart because I know whom they’re for.

God, a part of me wanted so bad to lay into him. Scream and yell and make him realize what he put me through. What he could have put
Lia
through. Did he know she could have died?

I couldn’t, though.

When he opened the door, I froze. The fear written all over his face paralyzed me, and I realized he’d been through the same hell I had the last two days. The way he stared at me…it took all my will-power not to fall into his arms where I could drop this strong-mother façade and let him hold me up like he used to.

We were good for each other that way. Together, we could break down safely in our own pain, clinging onto the one person who understood what we were going through.

Running to Damian is a bad idea, which is why I stood my ground. Still, all I wanted was for him to say something.

Something to confirm I’m not crazy for leaving Lia with him in the first place. That somewhere under that cool exterior is the man I fell in love with.

I glance at the daughter we created together. She’s curled up on the seat, sleeping like only a child can do with her body twisted in an awkward position. My neck aches looking at her. The tail of her French braid lies over one shoulder, and I wonder if the old lady who abducted her did that. Damian assured me in a long text she took good care of Lia.

Oh, Damian.

I slide both hands through my greasy hair. I can’t stop thinking about him. I hope he’s not drowning himself in booze and girls.

The thought sends a ripple of tremors into the pit of my stomach. I shouldn’t have taken Lia and left him to his misery.

This is so messed up!

There is nothing—
nothing
—that makes sense here. He freaking left
Lia unattended in a mall and someone took her. Talk about irresponsible. Not to mention the expanding list of faults that keeps knocking on my brain, playing peak-a-boo with me.

Yeah, I see them. Each line of mistakes he’s made gets clearer and clearer, yet…

I peer
out the window, watch the clouds pass by, and bite the inside of my cheek to remind myself of the pain Damian’s caused me.

It doesn’t work, though. I can’t seem to help myself when it comes to him, and I’ve tried so damn hard to get him out of my head.

Blind love. That’s what I have for him, because there’s no other explanation.

I lean my head against the plastic pane. I wish somehow I could turn back time and either stop myself from ever finding comfort in Damian’s bed, or recognize that I was falling for him in the first place. Then I could have cut off our arrangement before it was too late.

Maybe if I figured out a way to hurt him before he hurt me, I’d be able to move on with my life without seeing his face every time I close my eyes. It’s a stupid thought, though, because I know I’d never hurt him on purpose. Not only because I hate seeing him in pain, but because that would mean assuming he’s in love with me.

God, I can’t keep doing this to myself. Or to Lia.

I pull out my phone and scroll through my contacts, bypassing Damian’s picture. When I get home, I’ll replace it with a big, bright, stop sign, and pray I can summon the wherewithal not to answer it if he calls. Instead, I tap on Blake’s photo. It’s one I took the first day out on the boat with the ocean in the background.

Black hair rustles in the breeze, and gorgeous chocolate eyes flirt with me from the picture. This man, this responsible, amazing, caring man loves me. So why can’t I love him back? Blake should be easy to love, and Damian should be easy to let go.

Unfortunately, “should” isn’t on my side.

~*~

The fasten seatbelt sign lights up with a ding, and soon, a flight attendant is telling us we’re making our descent. It’s currently eighty-eight degrees in Tallahassee with dropping barometric pressure and fifty-three percent humidity.

“We will be landing at gate forty-four. Thank you for flying with us, and have a great evening,” she says.

My head falls back against the seat and I sigh. Home sweet home.

Both Damian and Blake are miles away, and for the next two weeks it will just be Lia and me. Maybe I can figure out my life before fall semester starts.

I don’t wake Lia until the plane lands.

“Hey, sweetie,” I say, gliding my fingertips over her cheek. “We’re at the airport now.”

Her eyelids open and those bright blues that are as expressive and beautiful as Damian’s blaze into me. He definitely taught her something during her stay, because wow, that gaze mirrors his perfectly. If it was on his face, I’d lose my senses, but on our daughter’s, I can stand my ground—I think.

She twists back to me in a sassy huff, her arms crossed over her chest, butt cemented to the seat. I’ve witnessed this move plenty of times before today, and I’m not surprised to see it at the moment.

“You don’t have to like me right now, Lia,” I say, “but you
are
getting off this plane with me if I have to drag you out.”

Her shoulders hunch forward. We’ve been through this enough times that she knows I’m not joking. If she kicks and screams, I hold on tighter. I’ve survived worse than a tantrum by a three-year-old.

The plane slows to a stop at our gate, and a minute later, the fasten seat belt light switches
off. Passengers begin to collect their things from under their seats and the overhead compartments, but Lia and I have nothing except my purse and her blanket. Lia wads up the worn pink material without looking at me and stands up. She stomps her way into the aisle, her nose in the air.

I shake my head. It’s going to be a long few days.

I follow her off the plane. She refuses to hold my hand, but I grab it anyway. After what we just went through, I’m not letting her walk around the airport with me simply trailing after her. At my touch, her eyes narrow and her lips pucker in an angry face only she could pull off. It’s cute and annoying at the same time.

Since Blake drove the two of us here, his car is in the long-term parking garage, and I don’t have access to it. So, a taxi it is.

Several are lined up outside. I pull Lia behind me to one of them, then I put her in the backseat first. I don’t think she’d run from me, but with this mood she’s in, I’m not taking chances. Lia’s more like her father than I’d like to admit.

The silent treatment continues when we arrive at our apartment. Without a word, she storms into her bedroom and slams the door, another one of Damian’s traits shining through.

I don’t bother going in after her. She’ll cool off by tomorrow, and hopefully, I will too. I doubt I’d be able to hold myself together if we talked tonight anyway.

I dig out my phone and collapse on the sofa. Blake will be out in the boat since it’s afternoon there, but he’s been expecting something from me, and really, he deserves to know what’s going on. I should have done this earlier, but with Damian, it slipped my mind.

Lia’s safe. We’re back home now. Everything went fine.

I don’t expect an immediate reply, and I don’t receive one. Instead, my phone rings. Blake’s picture lights up my screen, the little smirk on his face making me smile for the first time today.

“Hey,” I answer.

“God, Elizabeth. I’ve been waiting forever for you to call me. I was going crazy, here,” he says, relief coating his voice. “How’s she doing?”

“Well, in terms of the kidnapping, she’s great. Doesn’t seem fazed by it at all.”

“But…?”

“But”—I breathe out—“she hates me for taking her away from Damian.”

“Elizabeth, you did what you had to do. Give her some time, she’ll get over it.” He pauses. “I’m, uh, sorry for pushing you into making her stay with him. I should have listened to you and supported you. I…”

“It’s not your fault, Blake. I wanted him to keep her too.” Even if that had less to do with the trip and more to do with my own guilt for never telling him about her. “I’d really hoped he had changed.”

“That’s not your fault, either, babe,” Blake says, his tone soft and soothing. “I can hop on a plane in two hours if you want me to.”

I love his offer, even though I won’t accept it. I close my eyes to allow the words to sink in and fill me up like he’s here with me, but the lips I see speaking to me aren’t Blake’s. And in my mind, I’m quick to nod my answer to the man whose arms I long to have around me.

Warmth caresses my skin, and I swear I can smell the scent of Damian’s body wash and deodorant. It’s so good I inhale again, deeper, imagining that when I open my eyes he’ll be here.

“Elizabeth?”

At the sound of Blake’s voice, my eyelids fly open. I’m disappointed. My empty living room, quiet and dark, stares me down for a second before I push the thought of Damian away.

“No, Blake, it’s okay. Finish the study. We’ll be here when you get back,” I say.

“I’m a phone call away, all right? Any time.”

“I know.”

Silence drops in on us, and I shift on the cushion. I sense “I love you” is on the tip of his tongue, and I hope he doesn’t say it. The words are beautiful, but there’s only one person I want to hear them from.

And earlier today, I chose to walk out of his life…again.

“Bye, Blake,” I whisper because the painful memories are taking over my whole being.

He hesitates.

I know I’m hurting him with my brush-off…and I’m sorry.

“Good night, babe,” he finally says.

I hang up first, then slowly make my way to my bedroom right before a scene plays out in my head. I’d gone to Damian’s house the day before Kate’s funeral to tell him goodbye and to fully lay Liam’s ghost to rest. Damian caught me in Liam’s bedroom, anger blazing in his eyes. I see them clearly even now, how they bored into me like he hated my being there.

It tore me up. He was hurting so badly, and I would have given anything to take it away. The bottle of whiskey in his grasp cut me to the core, because he was spiraling when finally I wasn’t.

I couldn’t return to where he was, broken in so much pain there’s no room for rational thought. The whole world’s a blur and completely against you, and when you’re that far gone, you’re desperate.

Damian was desperate that night, and I hated seeing him hurt like that. The way I’d been after Liam’s funeral when he’d numbed my pain. I owed him.

A part of me died that day, when I left Damian broken in his bedroom.

The rest of me died today.

I can’t hold myself together anymore. Face-first, I fall onto my bed and shatter.