Chapter 22
Damon
She fell in love with a criminal…a fucking criminal—a man who didn’t deserve her love.
A man who was certain he was unable to love in return.
She took him and shaped him into a man worthy of love.
She didn’t know what she had done or how much she had changed him, but every time he looked at her, he knew he wanted to be good—if only for her.
Thoughts swirl around my head, making it hard to sleep. Maybe a little midnight snack will help ease the insomnia. Gazing down at Keira, I feel I don’t want to leave her, but I’m not waking her up to bring her downstairs with me.
She needs her sleep; she barely gets enough as it is. I peel her naked body from mine. She’s sticky with sex, and I love that my scent clings to her skin, marking her as mine. I pull the comforter to her shoulders and slip from the bed, pulling on a pair of sweatpants.
I tiptoe from the room and close the door. Hopefully, she doesn’t wake up while I’m gone. Being away from her even for a short time enrages me. I want her with me everywhere I go—to be my shadow. But even possessive-as-hell Damon realizes how fucked up that is.
The hall is dark, but I know this house like the back of my hand, and this monster isn’t scared of anything. I walk down the hallway and hear a soft cry. It pierces the air, meeting my ears instantly.
I turn my head, pointing it in the direction I think I heard the cry. It’s so strange. It sounds exactly like the noise I heard the last time I was here.
I hold my breath, so there is absolute silence surrounding me, and for a few moments there is. Then I think I must be going crazy for the second fucking time when it goes away, but a few seconds later, I hear it again.
My feet move to follow the sound when I hear something else. I stop again and strain my ears.
Is that Xander’s voice?
I shake my head. There is no w—
Another low cry echoes through the hall, interrupting my thoughts, accompanied by Xander’s soft voice. My brother’s tone sounds soothing and kind, warm even. There’s no fucking way that’s my brother, but it’s definitely his voice. I know it.
What the fuck?
I move farther down the hall and closer to the door where I’m pretty sure the crying is coming from. My stomach does a summersault the moment my hand grips the knob. I hear Xander’s voice clearly now, and I’m more confused than I’ve ever been in my entire life.
The crying has stopped, replaced by the soft cooing of a baby.
This must be some sick joke. Some twisted fucking mind game of his. There is no way I’m going to believe my brother is caring for a baby…or has one.
I push the door open, whole-heartedly expecting him to be holding a tape recorder. What I see is biggest mindfuck of all.
A nursery decorated in light blue. A large, white crib. And Xander sitting in a rocking chair, holding a baby.
A. Fucking. Baby.
I can’t take my eyes off the baby he’s cradling in his arms. What the fuck is going on? Did he steal someone’s kid?
“Come on in, little brother. It’s time for you to meet your nephew.”
I think I’ve lost the ability to blink—hell, to even speak or walk for that matter. This has got to be a nightmare.
I watch the small baby in Xander’s arms reach up and wrap his tiny fingers around Xander’s thumb.
“Don’t just stand there, come look at him. He has a strong grip all ready. He’ll be big and strong in no time.” It’s Xander’s voice I’m hearing, but I’m unfamiliar with the tone. And the words don’t make sense.
Once my legs start working again, I step all the way into the room and move to where Xander is sitting. I look down at the small child. He has big brown eyes and black hair—just like Xander.
“Have you ever held a baby?”
Xander doesn’t wait for my answer. We both know what it is. Who the fuck would let me hold their baby?
Apparently, Xander. Because in the next moment, he gets up and places the baby in my arms.
I instinctively cradle it to my body, still not sure this isn't some fucked up joke.
“Where did you get this thing?” I question, staring down at the little boy who looks like a replica of my brother.
Xander chuckles. “I'm sure I don't need to explain how babies are made, and don’t call my son a thing again. His name is Quinton.”
I blink. “Okay, but seriously, where did you get him? We both know you will never claim a woman, and last I knew, you need a woman to give birth—not a man.”
There is no amusement on his face. In fact, he looks pissed.
“Loving a woman is a weakness I cannot afford.” He moves his gaze down to the baby still cradled in my arms. “And yes, a woman gave birth to my son…obviously, but she is out of the picture now.” Xander takes him from my arms and places him into the crib.
He wraps him in a blanket and winds up the contraption hanging from the side of the railing. It starts to play a soft lullaby. It's such a mundane thing to do, and yet, watching my brother do it is anything but.
It's so strange. I've seen him kill in cold blood. I’ve witnessed his hands crushing a man's throat, and now, those same hands are cradling a baby.
“You killed her, didn't you?” my voice booms over the sound of the music. Of course I know the answer already, but Xander’s evil smirk confirms it.
“Loyalty means everything to me. I discovered she was hiding things, exploiting information, so I did what I do with loose ends.”
I roll my eyes. “You ended the life of your child’s mother? How do you think he is going to feel about it when he’s grown and finds out?”
I consider what I feel like when Keira becomes pregnant someday. I could never picture killing her after she gave birth. The thought of killing her for any reason has my stomach twisting in pain.
“Don't look at me like that,” Xander sneers. “She used me. She got herself pregnant, and then after she had our son, she tried to run away with him. Like I would ever allow that.”
That’s the thing about my brother. He offers zero chances. He’s ruthless. For a long time, I didn't even think he had a heart—until I watched him cradle his baby boy to his chest.
I run a hand through my hair. I can't stop looking at the crib. It’s impossibly hard to rationalize my criminally insane brother has a kid, and that he’s raising it on his own. How the hell can he be a good dad when our dad wasn’t?
“How is Keira?” The lazy smile on his lips bothers me.
“Fine. Shaken up, but she was more concerned with my well-being than her own. The bullet was meant for her.”
“I told you to come here as soon as you could, but like always, you disagreed.” Xander shakes his head, walking out of the room, a frustrated scowl on his face.
I follow him out. “What do you mean you told me? You knew about this, didn't you?” I'm livid. My blood pressure spikes. Of course he knew.
He doesn't answer, and he doesn't stop walking until we reach the study. I'm clenching my fists so hard, the muscles in my forearm ache.
“Answer me, Xander! Did you know? Because if you knew and something would've happened to Keira…”
“You'd what?” He lifts a brow, a glass of whiskey in his hands. “Shoot me? Kill me? What would you do to your big brother to protect the woman you love?”
Love…
“You don't know shit…” Fear for Keira’s safety trickles up and down my spine.
Amusement twinkles in my brother’s dark gaze. “Admit it. You love her. That's why you didn’t hesitate to marry her. It’s okay to admit you have a weakness.”
My jaw aches as I start to grind my molars. “She's not a fucking weakness.”
“But she is, isn't she?”
Is Keira a weakness? Maybe. But she can hold her own. It’s my job—as her man—to be concerned for her safety, though. That’s what a good man does.
“You judge me like you have no weakness of your own, but I must ask you, who's going to protect your son from all your enemies?”
Xander’s facial features turn murderous. “My son is not a weakness—not if no one knows he exists.”
I almost burst into a fit of laughter. “You're going to hide your son from the world because of a few enemies.”
He brings the amber liquid to his lips, but doesn’t drink. “We’re past having a few enemies, little brother. Maybe when you were an active member of the family, we had a few, but I’ve done some things…changed things—and that’s put more fire on us than we previously had.”
“Okay, and hiding your son from the world forever is going to do what?”
“I’m not hiding him from the world. I’m hiding him until it’s safe—or until he can protect himself.”
Clearly, I’m not understanding this. “You’re aware of who you are and what you do for a living, right?”
Xander’s gaze turns cold. “I am. Are you? Because you continue to talk down to me like I’m scum beneath your shoe. I saved your whore upstairs from death, and I brought you back into the family. I’ve welcomed you with open arms, little brother, and all you’ve done is shit on me.”
“Call Keira a whore one more time and I will slit your fucking throat.” I know I’m feeding right into his hand—right into his sick game—but I won’t let him talk about Keira like that…not when she isn’t here to defend herself.
“This seems like very irrational behavior for someone who isn’t in love.” He has a dark smile plastered across his face.
His mood swings give me whiplash, and I want to punch him in the face a thousand times over.
“It doesn’t matter, Xander. If I love Keira, then I do…so fucking what. Love isn’t a weakness, and the sooner you learn that, the better your life will be.”
He chuckles, then takes a huge gulp of his drink.
“You know what, brother,” I sneer. “There is no hope for you. You’re heartless and as sick as our father.”
My words seem to cause him to snap. An eruption of violence breaks free, and within seconds, he’s tossing the glass against the wall behind me.
It shatters, and the remaining contents drip down the wall, but I don’t flinch.
My brother doesn’t scare me. The only thing he could possibly hurt is upstairs, and I’d kill him if he ever laid a hand on her again.
“I’m nothing like our father. Nothing,” he booms. “In fact, I’ve done every single fucking thing I could to make certain I didn’t turn into that bastard, but since you’re so keen on assuming I am just like him, why don’t you fight this fucking war against him on your own?”
My brow furrows, confusion settling in. “What are you talking about? He’s been dead for years. I watched you shoot him right after he shot me. He’s dead.”
A darkness falls over Xander’s face. “No, we thought he was dead, but I can assure you he’s not. And now that we both have a weakness worth fighting for, we need to protect the Rossi empire. We need to protect what’s ours.”
I can’t believe my fucking ears. “You’re telling me our father isn’t dead?”
Xander stares me straight in the eye. “I’m telling you our father isn’t dead, and he’s coming for us next.”
The ground beneath my feet seems to disappear, and I realize how bad this is going to get.
War. A full-out war is going to take place. Xander and I won once, but can we beat death again?
Can we beat the monster without becoming one ourselves?
Thank You for reading Protect Me.
Damon and Keira’s story might be over, but Xander’s book is just starting. If you loved Protect Me make sure you pick up a copy of Keep Me.