Chapter 33
Damon tellsme to sit tight as he heads toward the bathroom to grab some first aid supplies. In the few minutes that he’s gone, my adrenaline wanes, and everything that’s happened tonight and all the emotions that accompanied it leave me drained and in desperate need of sleep. My head aches as images of the night filter through my overworked mind.
From feeling heartbroken because Damon wouldn’t fight for me, to almost going on a date with another man, to Damon’s confession of love and having the most amazing first date with him, to having even more amazing sex, and finally being able to admit that I love him, tonight was an emotional whirlwind—a reckoning of so many feelings that have been building over the past few months. Though, my body feels like it’s been hit by a brick as I recover from the equally as dramatic emotional whiplash that followed. My greatest happiness was almost destroyed by the secret Damon kept from me. Perhaps even more so by the thoughts and fears it led me to have.
The moment my trust in Damon was shaken, I thought the worst. I don’t know why my brain went to the places it did. Maybe part of me took the pain of Aidan’s betrayal out on him as well. Although it doesn’t surprise me, it still hurts. Regardless, I know I feel everything strongly—both love and attachment and betrayal. I always have. But Damon is right. He wouldn’t be here right now if he didn’t want to be. He wouldn’t be here if he was using me. That logic allows my anxiety to settle. And the pure desperation in Damon’s eyes as he begged me to fight for us and the gentleness of his touch makes me believe he’s telling the truth about everything else. He does love me, and despite what happened tonight, I love him. So much so, I can’t just walk away. One, because I want to see where things can go between us. And two, because I’m not ready to give in to the tragic French ending and I pray I never have to.
I take a deep breath then, resolved to give Damon another chance. Besides, it’s not like I’m completely innocent either. I kept secrets from him too, which he never threw in my face even though he could have. Perhaps, most of all, I’m inclined to believe Damon because of what he told me about his parents.
I feel bad we didn’t have more time to talk about his mom and dad and even what impact his father’s abusive tendencies had on him. The little we did discuss makes me understand why he’s been so resistant to a real relationship and real intimacy for so long. It also makes me realize how much he had to overcome in order to admit and act on his feelings for me. I don’t take his confession of love lightly, and I know he wouldn’t lie about it given his past. The one thing he did lie about…well, getting a glimpse of the dark and twisted world he and my brother belong to, I guess I understand.
Damon killed two people tonight, and my brother… My brother tortured, killed, and mutilated a man, and something tells me it wasn’t the first time. I’ve always known that the world my family is involved in is dangerous. I just could never imagine how dangerous it truly is. Even though I’ll never admit it to him, what happened tonight makes me realize why my brother has always been so protective and why he hired Damon. But it’s also made me realize something else.
Seeing what my brother is capable of, accompanied with knowing that Damon killed those men as a precaution rather than due to an imminent threat makes me realize the lengths people in this world will go to to prove a point and protect the ones they love. That should be comforting, but somehow I’m left with a sick feeling instead. If men like my brother and Damon are willing to go to such lengths, what lengths would truly cruel-hearted men go to for their own causes? For revenge? This realization sets my brain off on another spiral.
What if the men who broke into the parlor hadn’t been Aidan’s men? What if Damon hadn’t been able to get to his gun in time or what if he’d been even more heavily outnumbered? What if he didn’t stop them and they got to me? I’ve never been afraid before because my eyes and mind have always been sheltered from the darkness surrounding me. Now that they’ve been opened, I’m not sure how to escape these new fears and anxieties.
Just as I feel myself starting to lose it, Damon returns, carrying a handful of supplies I didn’t even know I had. I take a deep breath and try to release my thoughts about looming danger only for my attention to shift to my throbbing, stinging palm. Ugh, I guess I’ll take the one over the other.
“Alright, let’s take a quick look.” Damon is calm as he removes the blood-soaked paper towels. But I feel anything but calm when I see the inch-long gash split diagonally across my palm. It still oozes blood.
“Fuck,” I curse and force myself to look away. Damon laughs.
“I take it I can’t count on you to dig bullets out of me when I come home from a mission?” His words draw my sharp gaze back to him.
“No, you can’t. And after what happened tonight at the parlor, I don’t like the sound of you going on missions. What missions? And what about me? You’re not going to leave me alone, are you? I think we need to talk about?—”
“Relax, baby bird,” Damon says, placing a soothing hand on my thigh. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re my one and only mission. The only way that’ll change is for a special, unforeseeable circumstance. And if I’m ever pulled away from you that doesn’t mean I will leave you unattended. You will always be protected. I promise you.” At that, he lifts his hand to my cheek and wipes away a tear I hadn’t even realized had fallen.
I pinch my eyes closed and blink the rest of them away. With my aching head and throbbing palm, crying is the last thing I want to do. Though it’s obvious I’ve failed at ridding myself of my fears about the danger surrounding me, which is also linked to my concern for Damon’s safety. The only way someone gets to me is if Damon is severely injured or already dead. Perhaps my tearful reaction is just as much about Damon as it is me. I open my eyes then and look to him for reassurance. “And if that special, unforeseeable circumstance arises, you’ll discuss it with me first, right?”
Damon’s brows crinkle as he detects just how nervous I am. He lowers his gaze, returning his attention to my palm. I assume he’s thinking through his answer. And since I’d rather he tell me the truth than a reassuring lie, I wait patiently. All the while, I do my best to focus on him as he tends to my cut, first with stinging peroxide, and second with some sort of glue that tugs on my tender skin. I wince.
“It wasn’t deep enough to warrant stitches, so this glue should help stop the bleeding and I’ll wrap it up in some waterproof gauze.”
“Thank you. But, Damon, I’m still waiting for your answer.”
“I know,” he says as he wraps the gauze around my hand. “The truth is, there is a short list of reasons why I’d be pulled back into the field now that the Mafia is no more. And when it comes to that list, there isn’t much room for negotiation. It’s not that I wouldn’t want to consult you, it’s just…I don’t even know if I’d have a choice.” At that, I nod and lower my eyes to my thighs. Damon’s finished tending to my hand but I don’t have it in me to move.
“Hey, what’s on your mind, my love? You seem worried.”
“I am,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.
“What for?” Damon places his hands on either side of my thighs and leans toward me.
“I just…tonight was my first glimpse into what the mob and the Mafia is really like and it’s scary. I’m…I’m scared, Damon, of the situations that you may be put into, of the situations I may?—”
“Nothing is going to happen to you, Anastasia,” Damon says, cutting me off.
“But how can you know that with my brother out there torturing people and delivering severed heads to doorsteps? Who’s to say that Angelo’s family won’t seek revenge? And let’s say we do make it through this unscathed, what about the next time and the time after that? My brother was a top soldier and advisor back in Boston, taking my father’s place after he died, but he’s never had this kind of power before. He’s never been in the position to make these kinds of enemies. And even if he gets a hold of himself, the territory he now controls is reason enough for someone to come after him, to come after me. Am I wrong?”
As I ramble, Damon wraps his arms around me and pulls me to him for a hug. It’s tight and warm and it’s just what I need. The soft beat of his heart and his calming scent soothes me.
“I hear you, Anastasia. Your concerns are valid. But you’re forgetting two things.”
“What’s that?” I ask, my voice muffled as I bury my face against his chest.
“Firstly, your brother was chosen to serve as Josephine’s proxy in New Orleans for a reason. Now, I may not know what that reason is, but Josephine Cullen is an intelligent woman and a strong leader. She wouldn’t have put him in charge if she didn’t trust him.”
I suppose Damon has a point. “And the second?”
Damon squeezes me tighter and then kisses my hair softly. “Secondly, you have me, and I have colleagues and allies as dangerous and ruthless as anyone your brother could ever piss off. And you also have the protection of the mob even though you haven’t been utilizing it. If there ever comes a time where either I or your brother feels you need extra protection, we can make that happen. In theory, you’re the safest woman in the world because you have two of the most powerful criminal syndicates ready to defend you. So don’t worry. Besides, that’s my job anyway.”
“No, not anymore,” I say, pulling myself from him to meet his gaze. “If this is going to work, it can’t be one-sided. Now it’s our job to worry about each other.”
Damon smiles and then nods.
“Okay, my love. We can worry about each other. But right now, you need to wash this day off, calm your mind, and get some rest. Now, put your arms around my neck.”