Nobody's Perfect (6 page)

A statue of Mary, the Madonna, captured her attention. Savi walked toward it as if pulled by hidden strings. Looking up at the serene, smiling face of the teenaged mother, holding her chubby baby in her arms, more tears burned Savi's eyes. How would she be able to care for her own baby? She had nothing, and no one to help her. Would she be forced to give her baby to someone who could take better care of him or her?

No!
She needed this baby. It was her lifeline, the only person she could count on to love her. That might not be a good reason to choose to keep the baby, but it was important to her. The baby had saved her life already, just as its father had done earlier. They had helped her maintain a tenuous hold on her sanity. She'd find a way to keep her child safe and to care for him or her when the time came.

Savi looked around more closely. Red and white poinsettias adorned the building, including those placed on either side of the white marble altar at the front of the church. Just the way she remembered it with Maman.

Her eyelids began to droop. So sleepy. She turned around and looked up, seeing a pipe organ in the loft in the back. Maybe she could go up there and sleep without being discovered for a while. She wasn't quite sure yet what she would do next. But with her brain so fuzzy, she wouldn't be able to make any big decisions for a while.

If ever. She hadn't been permitted to make decisions about anything for so long. Not about what to eat, what to wear, what to read, what to do. Savi began shaking. Suddenly being expected to make all of the decisions about her life scared the living hell out of her.

First decision—she needed to sleep a while. She'd figure out what else to do later about all the other things she'd need to decide.

She needed to regain her power. But how could she regain something she'd never had in the first place?

* * *

Que idiota soy
.

A real fucking moron. Why hadn't he realized it sooner? Marisol looked just like Teresa. He'd noticed it before and still hadn't put it together. But at San Miguel's, she'd said she was in the third grade. His daughter could only be seven. He'd just assumed Savi must have already had a daughter when he'd met her, or maybe she was pregnant and not showing yet. Hell, he knew next to nothing about her then—or now.

Marisol must have started school earlier than most kids. Or skipped a grade. She was certainly smart enough.

So, why hadn't Savi told him?

Mierda
. She'd even named their daughter for the memory of where she'd been conceived. Sea and sun. How better to describe Thousand Steps Beach and their perfect day there?

Unfortunately, this wasn't the time or place to discuss it, but he would get the answers he wanted—soon.

As he drove through the downtown Denver area to the clinic Marc had referred them to, Savi remained quiet, looking out the passenger-side window. He hoped Marc's doctor friend wouldn't discover any serious injuries. He gripped the steering wheel as rage seethed to the surface. How could anyone hurt a vulnerable woman like that?

His woman.

Well, not anymore. Hell, not ever, if he wanted to be honest. Only in his dreams. They'd only been together one day. Best day of his fucking life. A day he could never have again. Not the way he was now. He'd only hurt her, and he wouldn't hurt Savi for anything. She'd been through enough already.

Less than ten minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot. Lights were on in the front of the clinic building; Marc's red Porsche was parked beside a Ford Focus station wagon. Savi was out of the car before he could make it around to the passenger door, so Damián focused his attention on getting the blanket-wrapped Marisol out of her seatbelt. Awake now, she wriggled her hands free, reached up, and placed her tiny arms around his neck, tugging at his heart as no one ever had before—not even Teresa or José.

Could this little doll really be of his blood?

How could he process that kind of intel? Better to wait until he and Savi had a chance to talk. Alone. Damián lifted Marisol, blanket and all, out of the car, ignoring the pain in his stump. He kicked the door closed and followed behind Savi, noticing her slim legs encased in the skin-tight jeans. Hard to stay angry when just looking at her made him want to jump her bones. Again. At the door, he met Savi's gaze. The hitch in her breath as she pulled the heavy door open wrenched his gut and wiped away all carnal thoughts. He needed to get Savi checked out—fast. They'd discuss Marisol's parentage later.

Inside the waiting room, the inner door to the exam rooms swung open and Marc stood there in pale green scrubs. Damián did a double take at the get-up.

Marc grinned. "I'm assisting tonight."

Apparently, his buddy loved the idea of being in corpsman mode again. He wondered why Marc hadn't pursued a career in medicine or healthcare when he'd gotten back from Iraq, rather than going into an outdoor-adventure outfitter business. Then again, Marc volunteered in search and rescue, which probably enabled him to make use of his corpsman skills, too.

Marc looked from Damián to Marisol's face, then back at Damián. He quirked an eyebrow, then grinned.
Mierda
. His buddy was drawing conclusions Damián wasn't ready to acknowledge yet. Hell, he didn't even know for sure himself.

Yes, you do
.

Yeah. He did. But he wasn't going to discuss it with Marc before he talked to Savi. He turned to find she had halted in the doorway and was looking warily at Marc. Damián adjusted his bundle, which wasn't nearly as heavy now that she was awake. Her tiny arms and hands held onto his neck as if she didn't want to let him go.

He just wished her mama would trust him like that again someday. Memories of Savi's body plastered against his back as they rode up the Pacific Coast Highway, and those of him carrying her to the beach cave, flooded him. His dick grew hard just thinking about her lying on the…

Focus, Chico.

"Savi, this is the friend I told you about. Marc D'Alessio, meet Savi Baker. She's from my neighborhood back in California." Marc walked toward Savi and held out his hand. She paused only a few seconds before reaching out to take his hand briefly, then pulled back.

"Pleased to meet you, Savi. Looks like you've been in a bit of a scuffle." A shadow passed over Marc's face. Damián figured Marc was probably thinking about when Angelina had been attacked by some asshole who fancied himself a Dom. Abuser, more like it.

Self-consciously, Savi raised her hand to the right side of her face to hide her cheek, but showed no sign of being in pain. In fact, she'd barely shown any discomfort. Either the woman's pain tolerance was through the roof, or her injuries weren't too serious. He hoped, the latter.

Damián shifted Marisol in his arms. "Check her ribs first. She's been favoring her left side and showed signs of some serious pain when I examined her the way you told me to over the phone."
Don't think about touching her right now, Chico
.

"Come,
cara
, let me get you into the exam room. Dr. McKenzie is setting things up for us in x-ray right now." Marc took her elbow and led her past the reception window to the door he had propped open. Savi looked back at Damián.

"Don't worry. We're right behind you."

Savi halted. "No. I don't want Mari to see."

Damián didn't intend to wait out here, but he couldn't just barge into the exam room if Savi didn't want him there.
Mierda
, she was right. Marisol didn't need to see her mama's battered body. Bad enough she could see the bruises on her face.

Savi 's gaze shifted to Marisol. "Mari, honey, the doctor is just going to check and make Maman all better. You stay here with Damián. I think I saw some toys in the corner over there you can play with while you're waiting. I shouldn't be too long."

Marisol looked from her mother to Marc. "Don't hurt my maman." The fierce tone in her high-pitched voice made Damián smile. Protective of her mommy. He liked that, although he was saddened that his little girl felt the need to protect her mother. Parents were supposed to protect their kids, not the other way around.

Marc smiled his understanding. "Don't worry, Mari. The doctor and I will take very good care of her. She'll be back with you in no time."

Marisol scrutinized Marc a moment longer, taking his measure, then nodded, seemingly satisfied with his buddy's ability to care for her mother and return her safely. Heaven help Marc if he didn't follow through on that promise, though. This
muñequita
would be a force to be reckoned with.

Already the little doll had breached a major wall in Damián's defenses.

"Come,
querida
, let's go check out the toys."

"I'm not a baby. You can put me down now."

Yes, ma'am
. He grinned as he put her down, feeling instant relief in his stump. He hadn't even realized the strain his prosthesis had been under until now.

Marisol placed her hand in his and led him to the table laden with Legos and books. He hadn't played with the plastic blocks since he'd been in Eden Gardens for Teresa's birthday a few months ago. Happier times with her and his nephew, José, which they hadn't enjoyed during his last visit, dealing with the aftermath of what had happened to Teresa.

He figured a little girl would be more interested in dolls and books, but this one surprised him when she sat at the table and began playing with the colorful blocks. He soon discovered she was quite adept at building intricate structures. Like a construction foreman, she instructed him on what he could do to help and soon they had built four castle walls, complete with a drawbridge that could be lowered and raised. Next she began working on a tower.

Marisol's fingers stopped and she looked up at him. "Do you like princesses?"

Damián wasn't sure how to respond. "Well, I haven't met too many princesses, but the ones I know, like my niece and you, I like a lot."

She smiled briefly, but then grew serious. "Not me, silly. I mean Maman. An evil knight from a kingdom far away put a spell on her and she doesn't know she's a
princesa
anymore. She needs to have a prince kiss her so she can remember."

Mierda
. The calculating expression in the little girl's eyes told him he was being sized up to take on the role of her maman's rescuing prince. He imagined having Marisol's approval would make it easier to get close to Savi.

Fuck that thinking. No way was her mother going to find her perfect prince inside this man's broken body and soul. Besides, his days of scaling towers to rescue princesses, especially ice princesses, were long gone. Hadn't he tried to rescue Savannah once, only to be shown in no uncertain terms she'd wanted nothing more to do with him? Apparently, she'd never looked for him. Didn't even find him to tell him he was going to be a father.

Damián's focus lifted over Marisol's head to the door leading back to the examination rooms. How the hell long did it take Marc and his doctor friend to figure out if Savi's ribs were cracked?

Damián could use a little rescuing here, too.

* * *

"How about here?"

The physician pressed his cold, hard fingers into her abdomen. Savi shivered as memories of Lyle's touch bombarded her mind, and the many ways he'd managed to place bruises on her body that her father wouldn't notice. She'd avoided male doctors in the past because she couldn't bear the thought of being touched by a man. No choice this time. She hated having no choice.

Having Damián's Italian friend in scrubs staring at her from the other side of the examination table didn't help. His thumb stroked her upper arm as if trying to calm her, but his touch only made her skin crawl even more. Sweat broke out on her upper lip.

Breathe, Savi
.

She was marginally successful at keeping herself from screaming in fear and revulsion. These men weren't trying to hurt her. Not yet, anyway. Still, her body wanted to crawl into the nearest dark corner.

Go to your safe place, Savi
.

Surf.

Sun.

Safety.

Damián waited there, holding out his hand to her.

No!

"That's it,
cara.
Don't tune out the pain. Dr. McKenzie needs to assess what hurts first, then we'll get you something to deal with it."

Marc brushed the dampened hair back from her temple. Tears? No, she never cried. Must be perspiration.

Despite his cautioning her against it, she tried to block the pain from her consciousness, afraid Dr. McKenzie would send her to a hospital if she were too severely injured. Then he pressed against her ribcage and Savi screamed, lifting her knees involuntarily to protect herself.
Oh dear lord.
She hadn't gotten back to her safe place and had fought so hard not to give in to the pain. Her body was wound tighter than an overstretched rubber band.
I can't take much more.

"Slow, even breaths,
cara
." She couldn't draw a breath. Panic filled her. "Inhale. Now, Savi."

She looked up at Marc and found herself doing as he instructed. Maybe his being in scrubs reminded her of giving birth to Mari. She remembered her Lamaze training and her body sank against the examination table as she forced herself to release the tension. She could focus on him and…

Dr. McKenzie patted her arm. "Good girl."

She shrank away from the doctor's hand. Those haunting words caused renewed panic to bubble up. Savi tried not to let his unfortunate choice of words do a number on her psyche. He couldn't know they would trigger something in her, and he hadn't meant anything by it. Both Anita and her therapist had worked with Savi for so long on how to stop letting someone's innocently spoken words send her spiraling down into the abyss.

"Eyes on me,
cara
." Again, Savi turned her head toward Damián's friend. He leaned a little too close to her face for comfort.