Chapter 11
I park my all-black Range Rover on the gravel courtyard behind Only Black Ink, and send Damon a text letting him know we’ve arrived.
The last thing we need is to walk in on him and Ana doing the deed on the sofa.
Although, after what happened just three weeks ago, that may not be as much of a concern today.
I need to remember to ask how she’s doing.
Although sensing Darcy’s anxiety, I realize she needs checking on first.
“Are you okay?” I ask, shifting my gaze from my phone to her.
She looks at me with hesitancy in her blue eyes and then directs her attention to the back of Damon’s tattoo parlor.
It’s old, like most of the structures in the French Quarter.
The brick is weathered and there are vines slithering up the walls from the poorly maintained courtyard.
I’m surprised Ana hasn’t gotten on to him about that yet.
Although, she’s not exactly the homemaker, plant-lady type to begin with.
“It’s much nicer on the inside, if that’s what you’re worried about. ”
“No, that’s not it,” Darcy says then. “It’s just…
where are we? And who did you say we’re meeting?
This all just feels weird.” She shakes her head and slinks in her seat so that she is as far away from me as possible.
Here I was thinking we were making progress since she rode in the passenger seat instead of in the back with Delilah and Ru.
Yes, Delilah insisted we bring her and, honestly, it was better than leaving her home alone all day. They’ll be good company for each other.
“We’re at my friend Damon’s tattoo parlor called Only Black Ink.”
“Tattoo parlor!” Darcy interrupts me before I can continue.
“But only because his fiancé’s boutique is right upstairs,” I assure her.
“Darcy, you’re alright. Okay? You both are.
” I glance back at Delilah, who doesn’t seem to share her mom’s fear but is equally interested in the building just outside.
She stares out the window while mindlessly petting Ru.
Returning my attention to Darcy, I say, “Look, Ana is an expert shopper. Trust me. It’s both her profession and her purpose in life, at least, according to Damon.
So, she’s going to help us today. And, with your measurements, she can have more things ordered and sent to the house. ”
“Measurements?” Darcy’s eyes widen as her head snaps toward me.
“I don’t need a whole wardrobe, just a few things to…
” She trails off then and lowers her eyes to her gorgeous exposed thighs.
I follow her gaze and find her tugging at the fabric of her makeshift-skirt to cover herself.
Then she crosses her arms over her stomach.
“This just seems unnecessary, and I just feel—” She bites her lip then, swallowing whatever words she meant to say.
I give her time to collect herself and remind myself that this is all new to her.
I don’t know her background, but I can make certain assumptions based on the clothes she arrived in and her humble and meek behavior.
Entitled or privileged would be the last words I’d use to describe her.
In fact, they’re not even on the list. She isn’t used to wealth or being catered to.
She’s used to making do with what she has and is happy to do so.
This way of life—the life I’ve become accustomed to along with everyone else who enjoys the riches of the Mafia—is the complete opposite of what Darcy is comfortable with.
Perhaps she’s right. Perhaps I have gone a bit overboard.
Ana’s boutique is only our first stop. I’ve got private appointments scheduled for us at many of the shops in the French Quarter.
With Ana as our guide or rather Darcy’s, we’re sure to return home with a vehicle full of items and three times that on order.
But I want to do this for her, them. After everything they’ve been through, the extent of which I’m still unaware of, they deserve to be spoiled.
“Look, we’ll take it slow,” I say then. “We’ll start here, and we’ll move at your pace. Deal?” As my phone dings, Darcy uncrosses her arms and nods. “Good. They’re ready for us.”
Darcy, Delilah, and Ru walk ahead of me as I hold the back door open to the parlor.
“Straight ahead,” I tell Darcy as she walks slowly through the hallway toward the front of the building.
It’s a Sunday, so there are no customers to contend with.
Although, as we make it to the black-painted brick-walled space, I realize I did forget to warn the girls about Damon and Ru about Brinkley.
Brinkley, Ana’s white Pomeranian, fills the otherwise quiet room with yapping as he takes off running toward us dressed in a pink bowtie that matches Ana’s heels.
Ru steps in front of Delilah and lets out one loud bark that has Brinkley doubling back toward Ana.
She quickly scoops him up as Damon greets Ru with a huge smile and tons of pets. “That’s a good girl,” he says.
“Damon!” Ana snaps, giving him the side-eye. Brinkley growls in agreement.
“What? I’ve known Ru longer. Therefore, I’m Team Ru.”
“Well, I’m sure Brinkley will remember that comment when he shits in your shoes tonight.”
Damon rolls his eyes. “Fine. I’m neutral,” he groans.
Standing upright, he gives Brinkley some loving too and then directs his attention to us by cocking his brow and shoving his hands into his pockets.
His jaw clenches as he darts his eyes between Darcy and Delilah, and then he tilts his chin up as his attention finally lands on me. As I said, I should have warned them.
Not only is Damon pissed, as was obvious by his tone when I called him this morning, but everything about him is off-putting—on a good day—unless you know him.
From the all-black attire to the tattoos covering damn near every inch of his skin to his arrogant asshole demeanor.
Don’t get me wrong, I love him. But he’s not everyone’s cup of tea and most people find him intimidating.
Similar to Brinkley running to Ana, Delilah reaches for Darcy’s hand and shrinks behind her after getting a good look at Damon. I stifle a groan and position myself between them.
“Thanks for meeting us on such short notice, especially given recent events,” I say then.
As I do, Ana sucks in a breath and drops her eyes to the wood-planked floors beneath us.
As she pulls Brinkley closer, I notice she’s wearing one of Damon’s extra-long black t-shirts, which is the polar opposite of her typical frilly and feminine attire.
Damn. Maybe it was too soon to ask. Maybe that’s why Damon is upset.
She’s clearly still struggling. Not that I blame her.
What she went through—I don’t know how anyone recovers.
Damon wraps his arm around her shoulders and pulls her tight against his side.
I know Ana has spent most of the last few weeks at home with him.
Neither of them leaves for anything other than to let Brinkley outside to relieve himself.
Delilah notices the affectionate gesture and seems to relax, as does Darcy.
Damon may look like one of the Devil’s hellhounds, but there’s some softness to be found if you dig deep enough.
Though, it’s mostly all reserved for Ana.
“It was time,” she says then. “I mean, I’m getting married in a week. This is good practice for getting out of the house and back into society. Baby steps. And, besides, how could I say no to shopping or you, Gio? You helped save my life.”
Damon clears his throat and leans down to whisper something in Ana’s ear.
He’s probably reminding her that Darcy and Delilah know nothing about the Mafia or the assault she suffered at the hands of her brother Aidan’s enemies.
Ana nods and moves her eyes to Darcy, offering her another welcoming smile.
“You could’ve said no,” I tell her. “But I’m glad you didn’t. Ana, Damon, I’d like you to meet Darcy and her daughter, Delilah. They’ll be staying with me—indefinitely—and they’re in need of, well, everything.” I pull my wallet from my pants pocket and hand Ana my Black Card. “Go do some damage.”
Ana smiles then and takes my card. “As if I need any encouraging. Come on,” Ana, with Brinkley in tow, links arms with Darcy and leads her toward the stairs as Delilah and Ru follow behind.
“Welcome to the family,” I hear her say.
“We’re going to have such fun.” Hearing Ana say those words has me fighting a smile.
It wasn’t that long ago that I was officially welcoming her to the family.
Darcy’s lips part as she looks back at me before ascending the stairs.
I offer her a reassuring nod and then turn to find Damon watching me with a narrowed gaze and his arms crossed over his chest.
“Look, I’m sorry about dragging Ana out of the house so soon after… I just didn’t know who else to call.”
“Ana made her choice. This isn’t about that,” he says then, his tone stern.
My brows furrow. “Well, this might be a first, Damon, but I’m at a loss. Please enlighten me as to what the fuck your problem is.” I move past him toward the sofa at the front of the parlor.
Following behind me, he says, “You dropped four bodies in fewer hours, all for this woman you don’t even know.”
His mention of Darcy stops me in my tracks. As I reach the couch, I spin to face him with a scowl of my own. “Damon, you’re my brother. But you’d be wise to put some respect in your tone real quick when you’re speaking of her. And her name is Darcy.”