The Devil Behind Me(17)

“Why can't you stay the hell away from him?” Clara was always dressed perfectly with her perfect hair and perfect makeup. Her uniform skirt was always shorter than the rest. She wore a white button down and a cardigan sweater. Her two other friends had cornered me in the bathroom while another waited outside to make sure no one entered. Clara walked over to me and glared. “You know you’re the ugliest thing I've ever seen,” she said in disgust. “I don't know what he sees in you. I don't want to see you anywhere near him.” She grabbed at my hair, but I grabbed at her arm and held on tightly. “You bitch, that hurt!” she hissed. Her friends grabbed my arms and forced them by my side as she pulled my hair, wanting to hurt me. I stayed silent, waiting until they were done. It wasn't the first time I was bullied by her, or by others for that matter.





“Ah, the same, silly.” She waved her hand at him. My presence was ignored like I was the ‘other woman’ who the rich people don’t talk about.

“So when are we going to see you in the Hamptons?” she asked, smiling and batting her eyes.

“I don’t know,” he said to her, but then turned to me. “Addie? What do you want? Do you want to go to the Hamptons?” he asked. Daimon’s 180 appeared again. Clara turned and narrowed her eyes, disgusted I was there in front of her.

“Aren’t you the poor girl from high school?” she said repulsed.

It was like high school all over again. Daimon reached for my face and caressed it softly. I’d like to think he was soothing me from her remark, but I knew him better; he was playing his part. I turned toward him and offered him a smile as I eased into his touch. Daimon took my face into his palm and made me look at him.

“So, about the Hamptons?” he asked so lovingly that I had to remember I was playing a role.

“Too many stuck up people,” I smiled.

“I agree,” he winked. “So I guess it’s a no for the Hamptons, Clara. Maybe I’ll see you around.” He tried to dismiss her but she was not one to dismiss so easily.

“You can’t seriously still be fascinated with her?” she growled quietly, not wanting to make a scene. His hand never left my face and he continued to leisurely feather my cheek.

“Can’t help it,” he answered her while looking at me. “Now if you don’t mind, Clara, I’d like to enjoy the rest of my meal.” He took his eyes off me and frowned at her.

“Fine,” she hissed.

I yanked my face away from his hand and looked down on my plate. My vision blurred. Stupid tears. Fuck, I hated high school and here I was right back where I hated it the most.

“Addie?” Daimon called out.

“What?” I nearly snapped as I looked up at him.

“Not bad. You might be worth more than I paid for.” And there it was, the jab he was waiting to give me after my comment about him not being able to get a real girl. I said nothing and continued to look down at my plate as I ate, remorseful at what I had done to myself.





CUTS & BRUISED EGOS


After lunch, I had asked Daimon to take me home. Well not exactly asked him, more like demanded. I was too exhausted by his presence and the way the day turned out. Clara had brought me right back to memories I had tried desperately to forget. Daimon, however, had other plans. He refused, which didn’t go well with me.

“You know the rules,” he hissed, pulling me close to him.

“Do you honestly want me to be with you even if I'm not in the mood? I'm exhausted, Daimon. This day was too much for me,” I snapped.

“You’re exhausted?” he said sarcastically. “No wonder you can’t make any money,” he jeered.

I bit my inner lip to stop myself from crying in front of him. I wasn’t ever going to tell him about what had happened to me. Ever! Daimon Evans was just a paycheck to help me get Sofia through her first semester. Yes, granted, it was only for one semester, but at least she’d be there and then who knows what could happen.

“Go fuck yourself, Daimon,” I bit out.

I left him standing in front of Delmonico’s brooding. I was certain I was going to pay for it later. The question was what would he do to me? In high school, he would pull my arm hard, yanking me around to face him, or cut off my elastic, which held my hair up. He cornered me and made me listen to him whenever he felt the need to speak, threatening me if I didn’t do as he said. It didn’t matter about my mood or my assignments. Only he mattered and he made sure I knew it then and now.

As soon as I arrived back home I took off the stunning little dress, which for the first time in my life made me feel like I was a woman. I went straight to the shower and washed every area Daimon touched. Why the hell did I remember so vividly every inch of me that was touched by him? Fine, yes! Daimon was sexy; he was beyond sexy. It wasn’t about how he looked so much as how he was: strong, dominant and virile. Nothing ever stood in his way, he always was the one to go out and get what he wanted, no matter what the consequences. Hearing about his dilemma only made me wonder more. If Daimon didn’t want to marry, he wouldn’t have, unless he was cornered.