Chapter Fifty Damion
CHAPTER FIFTY
“Fighting doesn’t solve anything, but sometimes it feels really fucking good.”
—Remington
Damion
For two weeks I’d been losing my mind, thinking only about Julia and the last time I saw her.
Not getting to touch her, talk to her, see the warmth of her grin and the lingering stare of those amber eyes; it was torture.
A torture I deserved, a torture I didn’t know how much longer I could take.
“Oh. Hello again, Damion,” Julia’s mom said as she pulled open the door, as she angled her head and looked up at me like I was a lunatic.
“Hi. Um, is Julia here?” I asked, knowing full well that my visit was futile.
“No,” she said patiently, looking concerned. “She’s not here right now.”
“Do you know when she—”
“Why the hell are you here again?” I heard, and then the door behind Mrs. Lowell flew open. Liam stood there, arms crossed, glaring at me. “Stop coming here; she doesn’t want to see you.”
“I understand,” I started, trying to be cool because I knew why he was pissed. He should be pissed, I thought as I stood there like an obsessed stalker, but that didn’t mean I was able to stop myself. “But—”
“I don’t care if you understand or not,” he snapped, and his mom just watched me, not interjecting because truly, I was the asshole. “She doesn’t want to see you, so you need to stop showing up on our porch multiple times a day like a psycho. If she wanted to see you, she’d find you.”
I nodded, clenching my jaw to keep calm, because this was all my fault. I deserved his scorn, dammit. “That’s totally fair, and I know I don’t deserve for her to hear me out. But she hasn’t been at school, so if I could just have—”
“If you could just have?” he mocked, loudly and with so much disdain it was almost palpable.
“You just have fucking enough. That’s probably why you’re such a dick, because you just have so much.
I always knew you were a rich-boy asshole who’d hurt my sister, but you outdid yourself.
Not only did you hurt her, but you used her to try and hurt my family while also hurting her. You’re just a scumbag—”
“I know,” I said, my stomach knotted and my whole fucking face on fire as he read the list of my crimes while his mother watched. “And I’m sorry I—”
“Fuck you and your apology,” Liam said, his voice so loud it echoed in the area between the buildings on the block.
“Liam!” Mrs. Lowell said, objecting to his language, though I suspected she had no issues with the truth he was speaking.
“No, get the hell out of here,” he said, hatred in his glare. “Do not come back or speak to us again unless you want my fist in your mouth.”
And just like that, the door slammed in my face.
It slammed and then I heard the sound of the dead bolt locking.
Instinctively, my hand went for the knob, my heart pounding because I wanted to fucking go. I wanted to punch him in the face; I wanted to throw down at this asshole who wouldn’t let me talk to his sister.
Oh God, unloading on Liam would feel so fucking good.
But then I heard it.
Not gonna work, kid came from somewhere in the back of my brain, and God help me, it was Remi’s voice.
“I’m losing it,” I muttered under my breath, to myself, as I stood there on the stoop of Riverside Manor, hearing voices.
But saying that didn’t change the fact that I actually had heard him.
“Really, Uncle Rem?” I muttered, shaking my head in disbelief as I started walking toward the steps that led down to the park, mocking my own insanity while also fully believing I was hearing the voice of my dead uncle as I passed the statue of General Franz.
I knew I was never going to get Julia back in my life as what I wanted her to be, but suddenly I felt like I had to make things right with her. Even if she never spoke to me again, I needed to explain myself and apologize because God help me, I was better than that.
I was better than the version I’d given her ninety percent of the time I’d known her.
I stopped on the stairs, frozen, because I wasn’t really sure what to do next.
So when my phone buzzed with a text from Beckett that just said what are you doing right now? I knew what I needed to do.
I needed to get help.
I needed the help of someone decent.
I needed the help of Beck.
I was nervous as I approached the courts the next day, mostly because I knew this was going to be my only shot.
But the second Liam spotted me, I knew I was toast.
He let go of a shot that banked off the rim, and instead of saying anything to me, he just yelled to Beckett, “Did you tell him I was here?”
“Just hear him out,” Beckett said, catching the ball and giving it a dribble. “What’ll it hurt?”
“Oh my God, did you lure me here for this?” Liam asked, looking disgusted. “Fuck you, Beck, and your rich douchebag friends, too.”
“Come on,” Beckett said, unfazed. “He just wants—”
“Five minutes,” I said, coming around the fence. I held up my hands and approached, letting him know he had the upper hand.
“Get the fuck away from me,” he warned, stepping close, crowding me. Liam was my size, which was a little unusual, so he was in my face in a way most guys weren’t when he growled, “Now.”
“Lowell, I need—”
He responded with a punch. One second he was growling at me, the next his fist was fucking slamming into my eye.
Shit, shit shit. I stumbled backward, raising my hand to cover the spot where it felt like every bone in my face was surely fucking shattered. “Shit!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Beckett yelled, running over to step between us.
But I deserved this. If I was ever going to get Liam to let me talk to her, this had to happen. “Stay out of it, Beck,” I said, or groaned, actually, because my eye felt like his fist was still there, planted in the jagged space between my eye socket and my cheekbone.
And I had no clue where my glasses had gone.
“What?” Beckett said.
I dropped my hand and straightened up. “I’m good.”
“Jesus, your eye,” he said under his breath.
“I need you to listen to me, Lowell,” I said through teeth I was gritting against the searing pain, every fiber of my being wanting to put both my hands over my eye and drop to the ground.
Liam lifted his fist and tried throwing another one, but I ducked and missed it.
And then I couldn’t stop myself from clenching my fist and ramming it into his face.
He dodged, lucky bastard, so he didn’t get the full force of the shot.
“Fuck!” he yelled as my fist grazed his jaw. “Are you serious right now?”
And then it was on.
“You piece of shit,” he said, grabbing the front of my shirt with both hands.
“Takes one to know one,” I said as I ducked his right cross; then I pushed his hands off me, seeing red even as I knew I didn’t deserve to be angry.
“Fucking Rutledge,” he said, and then he bull-rushed me, running at me and tackling me to the pavement.
My shoulder blades hit the ground hard, shit, but then I shoved him and rolled, managing to throw an elbow that landed somewhere solid as I struggled to sit up.
“Christ,” I said, breathing deep and running my fingers over my eye socket. “Why does everyone like you?”
“Because I’m a nice guy, not an asshole,” he said, sitting up and raising a hand to where I’d hit him. It looked like my ring might’ve cut his cheek.
Good, I thought, even though I knew I shouldn’t have gone after him.
He looked over at me through glasses that were bent all to hell, and it was clear the physical part of the fight was over.
I sighed, because I was bruised and bloody and hadn’t made a damn bit of progress.
After what felt like an eternity of silence, I knew I had to speak first.
“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” I huffed, running my hand through my hair. “Remi was my uncle, my friend. Shit, he was a father to me.”
That made Liam sit up, his gaze shifting to something slightly less hostile.
“I won’t lie to you. I didn’t like you guys when I found out you moved into Riverside Manor.
That you guys—strangers—swooped in and settled into the house where I’d spent every day with him.
It pissed me off because I’d shared so many fucking memories with him inside those walls.
I can still hear his smart-ass remarks when I’m there, I swear to God. ”
“He was a smart-ass, wasn’t he?” Liam said, a small laugh escaping his mouth.
“Yeah, he was. In the best way.”
Liam nodded in agreement, his eyes searching my face, reminding me of her eyes. “Beck told me Lou—Remi—meant a lot to you.”
I had to choke down the heaviness in my throat, so I just nodded.
“I’m sorry he died.”
The emotions started to pound through me, but I swallowed them down. I couldn’t, not now.
“I didn’t want this, truly. Hurting you, your family… Julia,” I said, my voice cracking, dammit.
Liam’s eyebrow lifted, his expression turning serious. I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Liam. Really.”
Liam just stared at me, silent, before shaking his head and standing up. I watched him walk away, feeling like an absolute failure until…
“I’m not telling you where she is and I’m not letting you see her,” he said, and there was zero room in his tone for doubt. “But I’ll tell her you stopped by.”
“Serious?” I shouted, quickly getting up to follow him. It may not have been a lot, but it felt like… something. “Thanks,” I said, wondering just how bad my face looked.
“Your right hook is shit, by the way,” he said, his mouth moving into a dickhead smirk.
“Well, your jab is ass, too,” I said, coughing out a laugh in spite of myself.
“You two are idiots, you know that, right?” Beckett said, staring at us like we were nuts.
“Yeah,” I said as Liam tossed me the basketball. “First one to eleven wins.”