Chapter Twenty-Six
Damion
It crosses my mind as I stand in front of the bathroom door that something could have triggered a horrible memory of her kidnapping, and I’m gutted thinking about what that might be, how I might have caused her reaction. I knock on the door, and seconds tick by without a reply.
“Alana?”
The door swings open, and she stands there, a towel wrapped around her, her hand clenching it at her breast, as if it’s her much needed shelter, when less than an hour before, she was oblivious to her nakedness. It’s with mammoth willpower that I somehow resist the urge to pull her to me, not to touch her at all. “Why are you in there and I’m out here?”
“My dream wedding is you and me, here or someplace far away. Just you and me. Is that okay?” Her voice is raspy, affected. Whatever has led her to this point is not gentle, nor is it from the mind of a little girl I saw play fairytale games growing up.
I reach out and gently, tentatively, capture her free hand. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Oh God, no, Damion .” Her reserve falls away, and she steps into me, no hesitation in her hand as it rests on my chest. “You’re perfect. Everything tonight has been exactly what I needed. Thank you for being you, for always being there for me.”
“I wasn’t there for you for far too long. And I regret that.”
“Stop saying that. It’s the past. This is now. And we’ve talked about this. We had to grow up. If we had done that together, maybe we wouldn’t be here now. You’re my home, and you can’t possibly know what that means to me.”
“And yet, you’re not naked with me in our bed. Why, baby? What happened?”
“Nothing big or bad, I promise.” She reaches down and folds her hand around my cock, which is presently disobediently hard again. “And I don’t think you want to talk.”
“I do want to talk, which is why we’re going back to the bed, because if I stand here with your hand on my cock another moment, that’s not what’s going to happen.” I scoop her up, and her towel falls away, bubbles of delicate laughter floating from her perfect lips.
I settle her back on the bed and under the sheets with me on top of them, ensuring I don’t get distracted, which would be far too easy after she was just cradling my damn erection. “Talk to me.”
The smile fades from her lips, and she cuts her gaze. I decide the sheet barrier was a good idea, and I press my hand to her face and slide her gaze to mine. “ Alana ,” I say softly, the pinch of her expression telling a story I need her to turn into words.
“How do I plan the wedding of my dreams when I have no family to even invite?” The direness of her words only serves to highlight her genuine distress. “My dad is gone,” she continues. “My mother might as well be.” Her voice cracks. “Lord knows today drove that point home. And I’ve spent a lifetime living for them, working around the clock. I have no friends.”
The pain in her, the deep hurt, is like a bat beating at my emotions, each blow asking me why I didn’t fix all of this sooner. Why I left her in the first place. “You have me. And you are loved by everyone who meets you. The Walker team loves you, and not because I’m paying them. Your production staff loves you.”
“I don’t even know if I have a show anymore.”
“Baby, I got a text about the insanely high ratings of the special you did. You have a show. TV executives love scandal.”
“But your father’s powerful. Aren’t they worried about him?”
“Those execs are powerful, too. I promise you, you’re going to get a call, and a good one. Those people want ratings because ratings mean advertisers.”
“Until your father sues me and them.”
“Which you could talk about on the show, and he’d garner more unwanted attention. Your ratings are going to go up because people hope you mention the case again. And they know about me now. That piques interest.”
“That you don’t need.”
“Baby, I just need you. Now, let’s talk about the wedding.”
“Here?” she asks tentatively. “And why am I trapped under a sheet with you on top? Do you think I’m going to run to the bathroom and lock myself inside? The door was never locked, by the way.”
I laugh and slip under the covers with her, the two of us rolling to face each other, both of us with our heads on the pillows, but I’m not allowing her to escape the topic. “We own a property in the Hamptons and in London. I think the Hamptons would be a beautiful place to get married. I can take you there next weekend.”
“I’ve never been to any of those places, and you own properties in those places. Not me or we.”
“My money is your money, baby. You need to get used to that.”
“I don’t want your money, Damion. And I’ll sign something. The last thing I’m going to be is anything like either of my parents.”
I capture her hand and kiss it. “Alana—”
“I’m serious, Damion. No.”
“You can’t live the rest of your life with me that way. I have worked hard and made a lot of money. What good is it if I can’t share it with you? And you have plenty of money of your own, too. You’re not giving it all to your mother anymore. I will not let that happen. I’ll fight you on that topic.”
“You don’t have to fight me on it. I’m done being taken advantage of, and she inherited from my father anyway.”
“Not yet. She’s going to need money.” I sigh and roll to my back. “And we can’t not take care of her, but she’s getting a budget. A limit.” I turn to look at her. “And don’t say no. It’s necessary. She’ll fuck with your head over and over if we don’t do it.”
She rolls to her back as well and sighs heavily, the sound a puff of emotions that skitter about the room, and punch at the air. I lean over her. “It’s the best move, baby. We take care of her with a defined limit.”
“Maybe your father should take care of her.”
“You don’t mean that. You’re just hurt tonight.”
“I am, but I’m not joking. How weird would it be if they really ended up together?”
“I’d say they deserve each other, and if that happens, it happens. We’ll deal with it… together .”
“We’re talking about the monkey in the room, Damion. He’s going to come after me.”
“I’ll handle my father, and no, not by killing him. We’ll talk about how tomorrow. Tonight, let’s just be in the moment. Be us. Okay?”
“Yes. Yes, I like that.”
“Good. Then I hope you’re up to taking care of the problem you created.” I nestle between her thighs, letting her realize just how damn hard I am again.
“Oh. My,” she says, her eyes wide.
“That’s what happens when you choose to wrap your hand around my cock.”
She laughs, a sweet musical sound, the tension of moments before fading away, lost in the soft notes. “I guess that worked for me, then. I guess you better kiss me.”
“Yes. I guess I better kiss you.”
It’s a long time later when I lay on my back with Alana nestled to my side, her head on my shoulder, her hand on my chest, her breath slow and steady. She’s been asleep for a good fifteen minutes, the lights out, the darkness surrounding us doing nothing to slow my thoughts. All it’s done is allow my anger to burn in my gut and bubble to the surface.
I keep thinking about that warning Caleb gave me to protect Alana, and the idea that he, as my father’s Mr. Fix It, did this to Alana pisses me the fuck off. I quietly snatch up my phone, turn off the volume, and shoot him a text: Did you do this?
Alana shifts next to me and rolls to her side, sinking deep into her pillow and the bed. Caleb’s reply pings: I wouldn’t hide behind a bunch of Russian goons. I warned you. And I declined the job.
Me: He must not have paid well.
Caleb: He paid damn well, but I don’t need the money anymore. I don’t need two of you coming at me from either side. And you know I hate your fucking father.
Me: Then why are you working for him?
Caleb: He throws money at problems, and his temper creates a lot of problems. It’s a lucrative gig, but not one I need to keep doing much longer.
I consider that response, but don’t take it too seriously. He’s not a man you trust. He could turn on me for the right payday.
Let’s meet, he says. Tomorrow morning. Seven am. Battery Park, the Surf and Turf patio.
The patio will be closed at that time, which makes it a good meetup spot, and I type: I’ll be there, but you need to know my security team will have us both in their sights.
Smarter than your father, he replies. You always were.
I text Blake, and once we have a plan, I roll over and wrap myself around Alana, vowing to keep her safe and end the threat we’re facing from my father—swiftly and once and for all.