Devil You Know (Lost Boys Book 1)(43)

"Why are we rehashing this?"

"Damian, how?"

"Filed false reports with the police about abuse so I'd pay her bills, be her beck and call boy, but the bitch enjoyed hurting me. Got off on it because hurting me in her twisted mind was hurting my dad."

"Oh my God." My whole body started to shake at the truth I only then understood. "That was part of the reason you left. If she knew about me, she would have hurt me to hurt you."

"Yeah."

"Stop the car." I needed air. "Stop the fucking car." I didn't even wait for it to come to a complete stop and I was out and moving with no destination in mind. My chest ached as my heart pounded against my ribs, and the rage, the most acute and potent rage burned through me thinking of a sweet, six-year-old Damian being told he was the devil by his own hateful mother. The sadness behind his eyes, that pain that never faded when he was younger. I understood it now and it lingered still. No amount of fighting, or punching a bag or military training and discipline erased the damage she had inflicted because he had marked himself with the only legacy his mother had left him … the belief that he was bad, evil … the devil.

Damian caught up to me and pulled me into his arms. "What are you doing?"

I jerked free and put distance between us because in his arms was a safe and happy place and right now I wanted to hurt something. "I know she's dead, but I want to bring her back to life just so I can kill her in the slowest and most painful way possible. She was a hateful person and right now she's burning in hell for what she did to you. Mom loves you, so did Dad. If they thought you were evil, they would never have opened their home to you. You are not evil and you are not bad. You have spent your life helping people, saving people. Your tattoo is beautiful and in many ways you're like him-dark, dangerous and beautiful, but you are not bad. Tell me you understand that."

"Thea." I couldn't take tenderness right now, not the softness of his voice or the love I saw burning in his eyes.

"Tell me you understand."

"I do."

He reached for me, but I pulled away. Pain flashed in his eyes. "Being in your arms has always been my very favorite place to be, but if you held me now a part of me would always think of her and I am not giving her anymore of you."

Devotion stared back, but he gave me my minute to calm down.

We rode in silence the rest of the way to the Sharptons, but as we drove down their drive heartache eased at the beauty before us. The Sharptons lived in a rancher on sprawling acres with a barn and horses. Garden beds filled with mums in the colors of rust, burgundy, yellow and white wrapped around the house.

"This is beautiful."

Damian parked next to an older model Ford F-150 and climbed from the car. He walked around for me, but I was already out and looking around. "Can you imagine calling this place home?"

He was as captivated by the scene as me. He touched the small of my back and led me to the front door. We hadn't even rung the bell when a girl, who looked just like her mom, opened it.

"They're here Mommy!"

Missy appeared with a red apron around her waist that she was wiping her hands on. "Let them in, Wynona."

The little girl turned and started skipping down the hall screaming. "Hank, they're here."

"We don't often get visitors since we're so far from the heart of town. Wynona is a very social little girl. Please come in."

"Your house is beautiful," I said and realized it was on the inside too. Hardwood floors, beautifully designed rooms, comfy furniture, family pictures on the wall, houseplants scattered here and there.

"Bobby's getting the grill started. We're doing steaks. I hope that's okay."

"Sounds delicious."

"Can I get you something to drink? Wine, beer?"

It was Damian that answered. "Thea likes red wine, I'll take a beer."

"Sure. Let's go to the kitchen."

We followed her as I took in everything because it was so perfect it felt as if it were staged, but in a good way. She got my wine and Damian's beer.

"I'll see about helping Bobby with the grill," Damian offered and disappeared outside.   





 

"Can I help with anything?"

"No. It's all pretty much done. So how are you finding Deadwood?"

"We love it."

"It's a great little town. I didn't realize the cottage was on the market."

"I'm sorry?"

"It's been sitting empty for so long, it's nice to see people living there again."

"What happened to the previous owner?"

"She died. Cancer. It was very sad."

My heart twisted thinking about the cottage and how picture perfect it was. How had Damian found the place?

"Let's take our drinks and join the men. This time of year is just perfect for outdoor dining."

Especially when they had an outdoor area like theirs. Teak furniture-tables and chairs and lounges-all resting on a slate patio, which also had an outdoor kitchen and fireplace. And there was Damian with Bobby, sitting in chairs looking out at the amazing view. Damian looked good in this setting. He looked good in the city too, but there was something about him here, like he had come home. Did he want this at some point, like when he retired? Did he see himself settling in the country, raising horses or pigs or cows? I could see him, Mr. Badassery, becoming a farmer. Those big hands gently caring for the animals in his charge. I wanted to see that, wanted to be a part of that.

"This is amazing."

"Bobby built it."

Missy took the arm of Bobby's chair, his arm immediately went around her waist. I took the seat on the other side of Damian, felt a pang of jealousy seeing the obvious affection between them. Footsteps sounded as Hank and Wynona came running outside with a ball and baseball mitts. I wanted to reach for Damian's hand, but before I could his strong fingers linked with mine. He was watching the kids, and yet he held my hand tightly in his. My heart squeezed in my chest. It was still there … every emotion he stirred in me, had stirred in me since I was seventeen. I truly was irrevocably in love with this complicated man.



Dinner had been delicious and not just the quality of the steak, but Bobby was a true grill master. We were sitting inside; the kids had gone off to watch a movie. I had had two glasses of wine so was feeling rather mellow. Bobby and Missy were adorable together, often affectionately teasing one another as they were now. I shifted my focus to Damian and felt a jolt to find his eyes on me. I rested my head on my hand and stared back. He was beautiful, even more so when he was relaxed, and he was definitely feeling relaxed right now. I wanted to crawl into his lap. I wanted to leave here, go back to the cottage and rip each other's clothes off. He clearly read my thoughts because his pale eyes turned darker. He made some sound from deep in his throat, but it was the accompanying look that had heat pooling in my belly, and a little lower if I were being completely truthful.

"It's getting late."

I felt giddy hearing Damian making an excuse for why we needed to leave and energized because I so wanted that look he had given me to mean what I really hoped it meant. Jumping up and running to the car wasn't cool, so I managed to pace myself, but my heart was galloping in my chest.

"Thank you for a wonderful evening."

"We should do it again," Missy said as she walked with me to the door.

"Our house next."

"I'll bring dessert."

We hugged. She actually hugged me and yet I barely knew the woman. I waved to Bobby who was shaking hands with Damian. When I reached the car, Damian was already pulling the door open. I watched as he walked around the car, felt my heart move into my throat. He started the car and pulled down the drive. My brain went completely blank. I couldn't grab onto a subject if my life depended on it. By the time we reached the cottage my body was so over-sensitized that I wanted my clothes off because they were actually hurting my skin. And how badly I hoped Damian would be the one to remove the offending articles. He shut off the engine then looked over at me and there was no mistaking what was going on in his head. Before he could act on the heat I saw burning in those pale eyes, his phone rang. Talk about a buzz-kill. He glanced at the number and all that was hot turned ice cold. My heart stopped, but now it was worry causing it.

"What's wrong?"

"I've got to take this?"

"Is it Cam?"

"No. It's personal."

Those words ricocheted around in my head. It's personal. And feeling what I was feeling those words cut deep so I was just as abrupt when I said, "I'll leave you to it then."

I strolled inside and headed right to my room. I showered, changed and lay in bed staring blindly at the re-runs of How I Met Your Mother but thinking about his personal call.   





 



The following day, I invited Damian on a picnic to the place that Missy had mentioned. I was surprised he agreed. He didn't mention his phone call, even when I asked if all was well. That bothered me, but it wasn't my business even though there was a huge part of me that didn't agree with that statement.

The view was beautiful, Missy wasn't wrong about that. I had really enjoyed our dinner with the Sharptons. They were such down to earth people. The food had been delicious, the children engaging and sweet. The night had been close to perfect except for the scene before dinner and his damn personal call after it. He wasn't one to keep things from me. Quiet and reserved, yes, but not secretive and I had to say I really didn't like it.