Love Always, Damian (22 page)

I don’t bother with the light. The girl follows me in, and I lock the door behind her. In the glow of the moonlight creeping in through the window, I see her purse her lips. She stares at my bed, probably thinking that if she’s going to back out, now is the time.

I stand behind her. Smooth my palms over her shoulders. Her purse falls to the floor, and her whole upper body lifts as she inhales. Slowly, she faces me, and I half expect her to ask me to take her home.

She doesn’t say anything, though. Instead, her fingers fumble with the buttons of my shirt. Usually, I don’t let girls do this, but for some reason I let her. One at a time, they pop free, and I roll my shoulders back so the shirt falls to the floor.

“My turn,” I say.

I skim up her sides until I have her arms above her head. Then I work my way down, grazing the sides of her breasts as I go. I don’t pause to enjoy them. That’s not what tonight is about.

At the bottom, I grab the hem and pull the shirt off her. I toss it behind me. Her skin is cool under my touch, and I feel the goosebumps poking up all over it.

I circle my arms around her and unfasten her bra. She shivers against me, but doesn’t lean in. Warm breath pours over my chest as she exhales.

I back her up to the edge of the bed. Finally, her eyes open and they lock onto mine. Even in the dark, they’re familiar because they’re the same eyes I see when I look into the mirror. The same ones I peered into for two years with Ellie.

Pain-filled, hurt, and desperate.

Hers is new pain. Fresh. And it’s breaking her down. Soon, it will tear her up and leave a gaping hole in her heart that nothing,
nothing
, will ever be able to fill.

Even drunk off my ass, it doesn’t feel right to take advantage of her. It never does, but I push through it like the asshole I am. I lower her onto the mattress and slide the black bottoms and panties off her hips. She doesn’t move as I step out of my jeans. Hell, she doesn’t even look at me. When her head turns to the side to avoid me, I know I should stop.

But then, she opens her legs wide for me. Inviting me inside to merge our pain and extinguish it until morning.

I glide my fingertips up the insides of her thighs. She lifts up a little to meet me. A puff of air leaves her lungs and exits with a soft gasp.

I’d rather not spend the time on foreplay, and I don’t know if she expects it. I just want to get inside her and be done. Still, I can’t do just
nothing
. It’s better for me if her desire rises and releases with mine.

Between her legs, I caress, massage, and tease. There’s no laughter or giggles or breathless bursts of passion. Only small movements of her hips as her body gets ready for me.

I position myself on top of her. I’m not thinking about how this isn’t what I’d pictured for tonight. Or that this girl really doesn’t want to be here. Or even that the whole reason I’m doing this isn’t to wipe away Kate’s voice from my head like is standard for me. I want the last eight weeks gone.

My gaze wanders over the girl under me. She’s staring at me now, her lips parted and puffy.

“Please?” she begs, a tear dripping from an eye. “I don’t want to feel anymore.”

That’s when it punches me in the stomach and knocks the wind out of me.

This girl isn’t me—she’s Ellie. After Liam died.

It’s why I chose this girl. I’m not thinking about Kate. I’m thinking about Ellie!

I push my fingers through my hair. “This isn’t what you want.”

“You said—”

“I was wrong,” I cut her off. “Truth is, you’ll wake up tomorrow with another layer of pain to add to the one you already carry.”

I hand her the clothes from the floor, turn away from her, and flip on the light.

“Sometimes it just has to hurt,” I say.

Behind me, I can hear her get dressed. It takes her a while, and when there’s no more noise I spin around. She’s on her knees beside Lia’s bed, smoothing her hand over the blanket.

“You have a daughter?” she asks.

I definitely don’t want to go there, but the way her voice cracks does something to me, and I answer, “Yes. But she’s gone with her mother. I don’t know if I’ll ever see her again.”

The girl lifts her face to me, tears streaming like rain. “Why?”

“Because I messed up.”

“Every parent messes up. Don’t let that stop you. If you love her, fix things. Before it’s too late.”

I close the distance between us and kneel down beside her. “What happened to you?”

“Today, I buried my little girl. She was riding her bike outside. I told her a thousand times not to cross that road, but…but she did. And…” She sobs, dropping her head into her hands. “I should have…done something. She was only four years old, and now…” She looks up at me. “Don’t lose her. Do whatever it takes, because you may never get another chance.”

~*~

After I take her home and give her the number to a good therapist, I lie on my bed and stare at the ceiling.

I’m a fucking disaster, and I don’t know what else to do. I typically only cave on the anniversary of her death, but tonight it’s calling to me.

I dig out Kate’s diary from under my bed. The box I keep it in also contains her hospital wristband, a lock of her hair, and the letter she wrote me.

I’m not looking for anything specific, just something from her. Something to keep her in my head and Ellie out.

January 27

Dear Diary,

This is crazy.
I’m
crazy. Not five minutes ago, I overheard Dad talking with Damian outside. He told Damian that he’s part of the family now, which is great. Awesome. Spectacular. I mean, I love having him with me, beside me. I don’t know how I’d make it through this without him, but…

What if I choose to not take the drug? I’m leaning toward that decision, and each time I think about it I can’t wrap my mind around how this will affect Damian long-term. With everything he’s already been through, how can I add to it?

Even so, he has to let go of his mother and Liam. Move on from the past. Make amends with his father, regardless of my decision. Because all the hurt, all the pain, all the anger he carries will kill him.

And I’m not sure he sees that.

But peace and healing can only come with forgiveness, and I have a feeling the person he needs to forgive the most is himself.

Only then can he move on. Find himself and where his heart truly lies.

Again, I may be insane—
off my rocker
, Grandma would say—but I think I can give him that. At least lead him to the pool. I can’t make him drink.

This drug isn’t a guarantee. I’m living on borrowed time if I take it. I’m living on borrowed time if I don’t.

I love Damian too much for him to destroy himself after I’m gone. It’s going to hurt, I can’t stop that. It’s the price we pay when we love someone.

We’ll take baby steps, though, in the form of five wishes.

And then…

Then he’ll have what he needs to let me go.

I close her diary and focus on the wall. That entry was her end game. Because she loved me. Because she knew someday I’d have to live without her.

“Oh God, Katie,” I say out loud as I finally realize what she’d been telling me.

Those five wishes? They were Kate’s gift. Her promise of always being with me is wrapped up in those five little wishes, and now I finally see them for what they are.

One: A visit to Mom and Liam’s graves to drive me out of the anger stage of my grief.

Two: Golfing in order to begin the process of fixing my relationship with my father.

Three: Watching the sunrises with her not only because she wanted to see them, but to remind me of what she said. That no matter how dark it gets, the sun always rises and starts a new day. The darkness is forgotten.

Four: Me graduating from high school, the first step in moving forward without her.

Five: To let her go.

These are what Kate left behind.

With me for always.

Chapter 26

Ellie

I can’t sleep. Damian clouds my head, and my mind keeps sending me flashbacks of moments long gone and words I’ve tried to forget.

As I close my eyes, all I can see is his smile, both dimples pinching inward as those gorgeous blues I love sparkle in the glow of orange, yellow, and red flames. The memory overwhelms me:

Dr. Lowell had some charity event, and because they were giving him a special award in honor of Liam’s service, he expected Damian to go—and Damian had asked me to go with him.

I did—reluctantly—but neither of us lasted an hour among all those people who kept telling us what a wonderful person Liam was. It had been a year since his death, and the condolences still weighed on us. Those people didn’t know Liam like we did.

“They’re just trying to be nice,” I said, prying Damian’s fist open and replacing it with my palm. I led him to a secluded corner of the ballroom before he could lash out on some unsuspecting member of the city council.

“It’s pissing you off too.” His gaze sliced into me, and I suddenly felt small under his scrutiny. “You know he would have hated this circus, all these shitty decorations, and the fucking award. He didn’t give a rat’s ass about this stuff. The only thing he wanted was to help people, not spend thousands of dollars to have these people parade about and pat each other on the backs on a job well done. This is bullshit, Ellie.”

I glanced at my shoes, then looked up at him. “You’re right, it does piss me off, but Damian, there’s nothing we can do about it. The money is spent. The people are here. The award will be given.”

He twisted and scanned the room of tuxedos, evening gowns, and champagne. When he faced me again, there was a mischievous spark in his eyes.

“Maybe there is something we can do,” he mused. “See the penguin with the beard and yellow tie over there?” He held me against him and I followed to where he nodded. “He’s the organizer, and earlier I saw him put a trophy thing behind the podium.”

“For Liam?” I asked, even though it was a stupid question.

“That’s why we’re here, right?”

“Okay, so then what?”

Damian smirked. “Then you and I can honor him the way he would have wanted.”

“How?”

He leaned into me until his lips were at my ear and his warm breath was hot on my neck. The motion sent a chill through me. “You’ll see.” He slipped the valet ticket in my hand. “Get the car. Meet me at the front.”

I immediately knew that whatever he had planned, I was on board. Sticking it to the man for Liam made me feel a little rebellious, and it felt good.

I did as Damian asked, and just as the valet rolled his black BMW to a stop at the curb, Damian was behind me and opening the passenger side door. His grin was devilish, and I couldn’t help the excitement bubbling under my skin at whatever happened next.

He slid behind the wheel, closed the door, and pulled a glass trophy from under his jacket. “Piece of cake.”

“Your Dad’s going to know it was us,” I pointed out, setting the award on my lap.

Damian shrugged. “Good. He also should know this whole shindig is a massive waste of time.”

I wasn’t surprised when we pulled into Damian’s driveway. Or that he led me around the back instead of taking me inside. We were doing this for Liam, so of course our private event would happen outside in one of his favorite places in the world.

“Want to get your hands dirty?” Damian asked as he opened the door to the shed.

“I’m game.”

“You might ruin your dress.” Damian’s brow quirked, and his sly grin returned. Clearly, he already knew my answer. And the way his eyes roamed over me, head to toe, I knew he had something else on his mind too.

“Do you care?”

His dimples deepened. “Not as long as it ends up on my floor tonight.”

“I’m sure it will,” I flirted back, and it was the first time I realized I
wanted
to be with him. Not because I needed to numb the pain or forget about Liam, but being with him, having his body against mine had my heart racing.

Damian disappeared into the shed and came back with an armload of firewood. “It’s bonfire time.”

I laughed. “Perfect.”

I helped carry wood to the pit Liam built a few years ago. He even created log benches that circle the stone ring in the center. The two of us spent so many nights out here I’d lost track.

When we finished, my sleek mint-green gown was filthy and covered with snags. I wiped my hands on the satin while Damian placed the award on top of the pile. He stepped back and stood next to me, admiring our work.

He picked up the can of lighter fluid. “Ready?”

“Light her up,” I said.

Damian soaked the wood all the way around and tossed the empty can on the ground. Then he lit a match and held it up in the air. “To Liam.”

I smiled, took a step closer to Damian, and threaded my fingers with his. “To Liam.”

Damian threw the match. Flames erupted, reaching higher and higher into the sky. After a few minutes, I glanced up at Damian. The smile on his face was gorgeous, and I’d have loved to know what he was thinking. I didn’t ask, though, because that moment was perfect.

Alone in my Florida bedroom, I open my eyes and the memory fades away. It isn’t until now that I realize that was the night I let go of Liam and started to fall for Damian.

I pull the blankets to my neck. My bed has never felt lonelier.

My mother’s words come back to haunt me.
“You can’t give the two of them this time, rip it away, and expect him to be okay with that.”

There is nothing about this mess that has worked out like I wanted. I didn’t intend to “rip Lia away” from him. I knew that once she was in his life, we’d have to figure out a way to keep her there, even from a thousand miles away. But now?

Now things are different. The mall fiasco screwed everything up, and I don’t know what to do. I should probably stick to the plan. I moved to Florida to get away from Damian, move on with my life, and fall out of love with him.

Still, the knots in my stomach tighten as I consider the very real possibility that Damian is spending the day drunk off his ass with an equally drunk girl under him. Or on top of him.

I roll onto my stomach and slide an extra pillow over my head to block out the image. It’s one I’ve seen too often, and each time my mind replays it, it tears me apart. I’m not sure if it’s the thought of the girls who’ve replaced me or that I feel cheated on even though we were never together.

I can’t lay here any longer, thinking about him. I get up, grab my robe, and stand outside Lia’s bedroom door. Quietly, I open it and peek in. She has her favorite My Little Pony pajamas on. As usual, her blanket is tucked up close to her, but her thumb has fallen from her mouth. The duvet only half covers her, so I widen the door and tip-toe across the floor. I pull it up to her shoulders and kiss her forehead.

My little princess sleeps peacefully. She’s already been through more in the last forty-eight hours than anyone her age should, and I’m so grateful to have her safe and home where she belongs.

I turn back the blanket I just put over her and slide in behind her. I fold an arm around her.

“I love you, Lia,” I whisper, then snuggle up against her and fall asleep.

~*~

In the morning, I usher Lia into the tub. God only knows the last time she had a bath.

“Who did your hair?” I ask, untwisting the rubber band and combing through the tangled braid with my fingers.

“Daddy.”

“Your dad did this?” I repeat, unsure if I believe that.

She heaves a sigh so loud it makes me giggle. She even adds a little eye roll to drive home her point. “Yes. He made me stand up for a million hours while he watched a YouTube video. My neck hurt real bad, and my head hurt too.”

“Well…” I’m speechless.

“Do I have to put on a swimming suit?” she asks with her hands on her hips, her head tilted to one side.

Okay, I’m officially confused. “Lia, you’re taking a bath. We’re not going to the beach.”

“Duh, Mom. I know. But Daddy always made me wear a swimming suit in the bathtub.”

“That’s…weird,” I say, but in the back of mind I think it’s kinda cute. “No swimming suit, Lia-Kat. Come on, get in before the bubbles deflate.”

“Can we go to the beach later? Daddy bought me this swimming suit with a tutu on it, and I want to—” She stops suddenly, her lips pucker into a frown.

“You want to what?” I ask.

“To show you, but all my stuff is at his house.” Lia plops down in the pool of bubbles.

“He said he’d mail your things to you,” I inform her.

“Mail them?” she pouts. “Why can’t he bring them to me?”

God, I hate this.

“Honey…I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

She cocks her head to the side. “Why not?”

“Because he said he’d mail them,” I repeat, and it’s clear from her expression that she doesn’t like my answer.

“I want to call him.”

I figured she’d want to talk with him eventually, so I’m not surprised. I’m just not ready.

“Let’s give it at least few days, okay? All of us need some time to settle down.”

“I don’t,” she clips out.

“I do,” I say.

She responds with a glare. Then she stretches out until the water covers her ears and she can’t hear me.