Chapter 9
Damien
Two Days Later
‘Bow Down’ – I Prevail
“Come on, D! That’s it!” Zeke screams in my ear, making me want to knock him the fuck out.
Sweat drips from my forehead and my muscles scream at me to stop.
I pump my arms as “Bow Down” by I Prevail blares through the speakers across the room, and as hard as I try, I can feel them shake a little more every time I push myself back up.
The small breeze from the fan hits my face, and just when I think I’ll make it another rep, my arm gives out from under me, sending me to the floor.
A grunt slips out when my shoulder hits, causing pain to explode and migrate through my back.
“Fucking damnit!” I roll and stare at the ceiling as I catch my breath. Zeke’s face bolts into my view, and when he sticks his hand out, I hesitate to take it.
Failure…
“Fuck yeah, D! That was a good set. Take a break.” He shakes his hand, beckoning me to take it. Once I grip him, he pulls me up, and I grit my teeth at the burning of my abdominal muscles.
“’Good’ my ass. I used to do double that without breaking a sweat.
” I swipe the towel off the nearby bench and bow my head to wipe the moisture away.
It’s still strange to feel the shaved part, but I’ll admit, it feels better than it did when it was caked in blood and sweat.
Plus, it’s easier to stay cool and clean with the sides and back cut like this.
“Hey, at least you hit twenty. Princess over there is still only on ten.” Zeke jerks his head in Carter’s direction with a shit-eating grin on his face, only to get an aggravated growl from Carter in return.
“Fuck you, Zeke!”
“That’s exactly what will happen if you don’t stop putting your ass in the air. You’re doing push-ups, not trying to get fucked.”
Alex, Zeke, and I all laugh, with Carter being the exception. He groans and falls to the floor as well, seemingly giving up. It’s not his fault. I’ve never really made him complete the physical tests the men normally do, since he stays in the Batcave. It’s also why he can’t shoot for shit.
When the laughter dies down, I pick my head back up.
Zeke’s stare has morphed into one of hatred.
He’s eyeing the corner of the room like something over there disgusts him, and I don’t even have to look to know who it is, but I do anyway.
Victoria is jogging on the treadmill, ignoring our rowdiness and staring at the wall.
Zeke might hate her as much as my wife does—he’s made that extremely clear. Any time she enters the room, an invisible veil of doom descends over the entire space. The other guys and my parents don’t seem to have as big of an issue, but Ashia and Zeke could kill her by the look in their eyes alone.
Alex walks up next to us, also wearing nothing but joggers and drenched in sweat.
“Seriously though, D. You’re looking good. You’ve only been home for four days. Cut yourself some slack.” He hands me a water bottle and I take a long swig, thankful that all I can taste are the minerals in it.
“What about you, baby girl? Should we cut you some slack?” Zeke taunts Victoria, and like she’s done for the past two days, she continues to ignore his heckling.
“Come on, man. Leave her alone. It’s getting old.” I stand up and grab another bottle of water before stepping in her direction.
Victoria may not be on my list of favorite people, but as I’ve watched her heal at the same time as me, my distaste for her presence has started to dwindle.
While everyone has been extremely helpful and patient with me, she’s the only one that understands what remains in the silence.
All of my friends, my parents, and even my wife, have been walking on eggshells around me—afraid that I’ll snap at any moment.
I can’t talk about any of it. That fear of what Ashia will think of me when she learns the truth is hanging onto my limbs for dear life.
She can’t know the guilt I carry, because then, she would know the heinous acts I committed.
Her eyes would never shine for me again, and if that were to ever happen, my life would be over.
When I step up to the treadmill, Victoria finally averts her gaze from the wall and focuses on me instead. I press the buttons on the control panel, slowing the machine down to a walking speed, before I offer the unopened bottle.
“You know, I heard too much plastic usage was bad for the environment,” she jokes and takes the water bottle anyway.
“Well, we don’t do tap water in this house.” That’s the understatement of the year, but she drinks it anyway, seemingly grateful for it. She keeps walking and turns her gaze back to the wall, but when I go to step away, she speaks up again.
“You alright? Underneath the sweat and redness, you look tired.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“Nope, just an observation.” She grins just a little. I shake my head humorously.
“I’m not sleeping well.”
“Yeah? Me either,” she admits in an honest tone. “But I’m not gonna lie, you guys have good beds.”
I chuckle at that.
“Yeah, we do.”
“Better than a chair.” She shrugs as Zeke’s alarm on his phone rings out, and any ounce of humor vanishes. “Your turn with Dr. Von?”
“It seems so,” I seethe.
“She’s not so bad. I talked to her last night. She advised that I shouldn’t look at your house like a prison. I’m not sure your wife would like that, though. If she had her way, I would be chained to the basement.”
“Ashia will come around. Right now, you’re the only one she has to blame. Plus, we don’t have a basement,” I joke, trying to avoid talking to the doctor a little longer.
“Yeah, I get that. I’m trying to keep a distance so I don’t upset her. I overheard she’s having a rough time.” She looks back to the wall and takes a deep breath. “I am sorry for my part in your pain. Well, all of your pain,” she says softly, and I bow my head to stare at the floor.
I’ve thought about our situation over the last couple of days.
While every time I move, and I feel the pain that she partially caused, I understand that it wasn’t her fault.
She almost died trying to help me. It was for her own selfish reasoning, but she still tried to get me out of there regardless.
“I know.”
“D?” Zeke draws my attention. His face has hardened even more, and his tense stance tells me that he doesn’t necessarily approve of my friendliness towards someone he considers an enemy. “Let’s go, man. You’re up.”
I huff and push off the wall, not wanting to piss him off any more than he already is.
This room suddenly feels like a high school hallway with the way they’re all sneering at Victoria.
Even as I walk past them, all three of them hang back—I’m assuming to continue glaring—before they catch up to me.
Once everything goes back to normal, they might all drop this tension, but I know it will take time.
I meant what I said about getting her out of our lives.
She knows not to plan on sticking around, but I’m just not physically capable of retrieving her sister yet.
Carter is working on the logistics of a possible rescue mission.
There are a lot of ‘what ifs’ and honestly, there’s still the question of trusting her—which I’m not sure I’m ready to do.
As I walk into the living room, the environment seems normal.
Ashia is sitting on the couch next to Daisy, looking more beautiful than ever before.
Her hair is thrown up in a lazy bun, and she’s in nothing but one of her tank tops and a pair of sweatpants.
She looks adorably comfortable talking to my mom and Serena.
Her hand rests on her belly, and even though she’s looking over some papers in her other hand, she’s still trying to entertain the chatty women around her.
“You should’ve seen D in there, Ash. He’s looking like a badass,” Zeke hollers as we all walk through, clearly still hyped up. I just shake my head while my wife giggles and rolls her eyes as she sets the stack onto the coffee table.
“He’s always badass. Plus, I already know.
I heard your shouting all the way in here.
You’re the perfect cheerleader,” she teases back and smiles at me with the most genuine grin.
Zeke flips her his middle finger, and I love how she doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate with her own, all without tearing her gaze away from me.
My heart flutters in my chest, stoking a fire that’s immediately doused with shame.
Unworthy…
The voices return, but I try to drown them out.
Even as it echoes between my ears, I attempt to push them away, but my perfect wife can see right through me.
Her brows crease in the most endearing way, but her smile falls, too.
She doesn’t quite frown, though. Her lips tighten into a concerned line, and I bend down to kiss her forehead the moment I reach her—just so I don’t have to see the sadness inevitably overtake her face.
Her fingertips reach up to graze my jaw, touching me so tenderly that the back of my head tingles, and the voices dwindle to whispers, seemingly afraid of her presence.
“Are you going upstairs?” she asks me softly.
I pull back enough to meet her golden eyes, so I can stare at them as I kiss her palm.
“Yeah. I guess it’s my turn. What are you up to?”
“Well, I’m going over the DH payroll—” she begins, only to be interrupted by Serena’s excited, squealing voice.
“And we’re trying to talk about baby items, but Ash is shutting us out.”