Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
DAMON
I wake the next morning to find Dottie already gone. I don’t know what I expected, but I hadn’t thought she would leave in the early hours of the morning or night.
I checked the house three times to be certain. Arrie’s room. The bathroom, kitchen and loungeroom. She’s gone, and I don’t like how I’m feeling about the whole damn thing.
I’m an asshole, but I never claimed to be anything else. However, knowing I’ve hurt Dottie makes my cold, tin heart clamour in my chest.
I’ve opened my phone to message her a dozen times and talked myself out of it every single time.
It’s better this way.
Finishing my coffee, I kick off the bench and head toward the bathroom for a shower before going to the workshop and then to the attorney’s office.
I can still taste her on my tongue, feel her tight as fuck pussy squeezing my fingers, and it’s not helping the poignancy poisoning my body or the want infecting it.
Get it together, Damon !
And that’s what I do. I shower, get my clothes on, grab my paperwork, and pull myself together. Today is a day I have been anticipating for a very fucking long time.
Kerry-Anne has signed the papers. I just need to give the lawyer my shit, and then it’s done.
I step into the office and see Harry looking toward the reception area.
I follow his line of sight to Dottie.
My heart does a double skip, but I don’t allow my eyes to linger on her too long. I look to Harry again. I don’t like the way he’s watching her. “Harry! You going to work? Or do you plan to perve on my niece all damn day and expect to get paid for it?”
His head snaps to mine while the other boys laugh. I don’t have to look to know Dottie is watching the interaction, but I do anyway. Her normally vivacious violet eyes are sunken in, and it looks like she’s been crying.
Of course she has, wanker!
“Get back to work before I fire you.”
I walk toward the reception area to talk to Dottie, her scent enveloping me when I step into the office, memories and images of last night flooding my mind.
I can still taste her.
“You didn’t have to come in.”
“I did,” she says, glancing away from me and into her lap.
“Dorothy?”
“What?”
“You don’t have to do this…”
She looks up at me, tears clinging to the corner of her glassy eyes.
“I promised Arrie, but as soon as I’m finished, I’m heading back to Sydney. ”
“Dottie.”
“Damon, please stop.”
Turning away from her, I walk toward the exit.
“I’ve told Arrie I will be staying at my parents if she mentions it to you.”
“And are you?” I demand, finding myself turning around, and hating the possibility she’s back in that house.
“For tonight, yes.”
“Fucking hell, Dottie. You have enough money to stay at a hotel. Why would you subject yourself to that shit again, to them?”
“You don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“My dad is sick.”
Shit.
“I have to make peace with them.”
I stop at the door, my hand clenching the frame.
“We’re not indebted to our parents, Dottie. It will do you good to remember that.”
Before she has a chance to say anything else I’m out. I need to get away before I do something stupid.
Like ask her to stay.
But then as if the Gods are a-fucking-gainst me, I see Rowan Knight, VP of the Ridge Riders sitting on his bike with a cigarette in his hand and a smirk on his face. I know why he’s here.
Damn it, I’m going to be fucking late.
Closing the distance, I fold my arms over my chest.
“Knight.”
“Woods,” he responds, kicking off the bike. “Wouldn’t know about any missing bike parts now, would you?”
“You know as well as I do, Rowan, I don’t fuck around with that shit. Bear and Scout have already been here to ream my ass, so what are you really doing here? ”
“Just in the area, Damon. But if you hear anything,” he says, tipping his head.
“I have your number. Now if that’s all… I have shit to do.”
With a knowing smirk on his face, he takes one last drag and blows out a plume of smoke.
“She’s a lot nosier than I remember.”
The hairs on the nape of my neck stand to attention, and I don’t have to turn around to know Dottie is there. I can feel her.
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.
Rowan throws his leg over the bike and kicks it over.
“Sure, you do.”
And that’s the last thing he says before he peels out of the carpark, his laughter trailing behind him.
It’s going to be a long fucking day.
I spend the short trip thinking about my next move.
The first thing on my list of things to do, is to make certain Arrie is fine and can run the workshop without it affecting her business or lifestyle.
I want the best for my daughter, and I guess finding out Kerry-Anne had her three months into the fuck fest of a relationship, solidified my actions.
The memory takes over and I allow myself this remember, to feel .
“You have a daughter, and you didn’t think you should tell me?” I grind out, looking from Kerry-Anne to her adorable two-year-old in her ripped Cinderella nightie.
I’m trying to keep my cool, but I can feel it fraying at the edges. I don’t care that the woman I’m falling for has a daughter, what I do care about is she’s lied to me for the past three months. Who the hell had her daughter while we were out partying?
She focuses her anger on her little girl; I can see it in her eyes.
“Go to bed, Arrianna, now.”
“Mummy, mummy!” she coos, reaching out for her and my heart skitters.
“Now!” she booms. “Damn your grandmother for not watching you tonight.”
“Are you serious right now, Kerry-Anne? For crying out loud,” I hiss.
“Daddy, daddy!”
My heart freezes in my chest, before jackhammering back to life as I look down at the green-eyed little princess, and I can feel her laying down bricks to the rest of my life.
I glare at Kerry-Anne. “We will talk, but not right now.”
I haven’t had much to do with kids since my siblings, and seeing I was the eldest child, a lot of the burden of raising them fell on me because of my drug addicted mother.
She could open her legs to Tom, Dick, and Harry, spit the children out, and then she’d leave the parental responsibility to me, because my father left her when I was young.
He always made time for me, hell, he asked me to come and live with him, but I couldn’t leave my younger siblings knowing what my mother was like or where they might end up.
I mean I’ve always wanted to have children, but not like this.
I shake my childhood thoughts from my mind and focus on the little girl in front of me.
“Let’s get you to bed, princess,” I say, scooping her up in my arms and navigating my way through the house to the door at the far end of the hallway that I never went into.
Opening the door, it creaks in disapproval. Releasing a deep sigh, I switch on the light with my elbow, and I’m met with a room that screams deprivation and no love. The only colour in the room is the pink walls, but even that seems rushed and done without care.
I glance at the toddler bed shoved in the corner, the ratty pink and purple blanket with a dirty pink Care Bear resting on the pillow without a case. Sadness robs me of air, but when I glance down at the little girl with her bright green eyes and big smile, she does something else.
She steals my heart.
I smile back at her and tuck her into her bed. She yawns and stretches, her eyes fluttering open and closed.
“Will you be here for bakefast?” she asks, messing up the word breakfast.
“I should be, princess.”
“Good,” she says, yawning again and grabbing her bear and rolling over.
And that’s when it happens.
She becomes my daughter. My Arrie.
I adopted her a year later.
A tear slides down my face at the thought of Arrie’s living conditions before I arrived and moved them into my house. Kerry-Anne always looked immaculate when we were dating, but Arrie was wearing clothes that were either ripped, dirty or too small for her.
Kerry-Anne was a selfish cunt. It didn’t take me long to realise everything she was as a person, and everything she wasn’t as a mother, and that’s why I stayed for ten years.
It was only two years into the relationship when things really started to shift and fall apart. But I prevailed for the little girl that stole my heart, the little girl I promised I would be there for no matter what.
Arrie .
Swiping the tear from my cheek, I look around and realise I’m sitting at my attorney’s office. I must have spaced. Opening the door of my pickup, I step out and walk up the concrete stairs to the entrance.
The door chimes when I walk in, and a young receptionist glances up, her eyes growing wide and mouth falling open. Jesus. I offer a tight smile, and she smiles back, batting her eyelashes.
“Hi. I’m Damon Woods, I’m here to see Archie.”
“Mr Wilson will be with you shortly. Is your wife coming in as well?”
I try not to roll my eyes. “Just me.”
She leans forward and squeezes her tits together. Her white blouse is see-through, but I pay no mind. I have enough issues in my life without adding a stage five clinger into the mix.
Turning away, I move to take a seat when Archie calls me in.
We’ve been friends for a long time, but regardless of that, he’s professional and that has always come first. He’s a smart man and in no way crooked like the other lawyers and half the damn cops in town.
The light bounces off his bald head as he motions for me to follow him into his office. I do, cradling the paperwork underneath my arm, but as soon as the door closes, all pretences fall from his face, and something tells me this isn’t going to go as I planned.
“You might want to sit down for this, Damon.”
I remind myself this is not Archie’s fault, and taking out my anger and frustration on a friend isn’t the done thing, so I move to the seat across from him.
“Give it to me,” I demand, throwing my folder on the desk.
“We might have a problem.”
“I gathered. Now spill. ”
Sighing, he opens his drawer beside him and pulls out a stack of stapled paper. As soon as I read the first few lines, fury erupts under my skin.
“She fucking what!?”
“I know.”
“Can she do this?”
“Not really, but she is going to try.”
“Will a judge look at this?”
Archie hesitates.
“For fuck’s sake. This woman has been the bane of my existence for over two decades, and we have been divorced for ten years. How is this possible?”
“Did she give you money toward the apartment or workshop at any time?”
“Kerry-Anne’s mother died and left her some money. I didn’t put it toward the workshop, but it’s going to be difficult to prove.”
Archie nods his head, seemingly already deep in thought, if his face speaks for him. When he doesn’t say anything, I glance down and continue reading through the documents. The more I read, the angrier I become. When I reach the last page, my hands are shaking, and my body is vibrating.
I’m moments away from blowing my fucking top but Archie speaks, dousing some of the flames.
“She won’t get what she’s asking, Damon. It’s not possible. You have been separated for a decade, you’ve paid child support, helped with all Arrie’s educational needs, and anything else she might have needed.”
I look up at him.
“She wants to take my fucking workshop, half my superannuation, and she wants me to pay her off for the house she’s living in. The house I fucking already paid for, Archie. You can’t expect me to be ok with this. ”
“I’m not, and you don’t have to be.”
Closing my eyes, I roll my neck from side to side, trying to ease the tension. After a quiet couple of minutes, I open them and find Archie already watching me. Biting down on my tongue, I allow the pain to mollify me.
“How long?”
“If all goes well… Two years.”
“Two fucking years?! I refuse to spend another two years in this fucking hole.”
“I know.”
“So?”
“Let me put a proposal together, and I’ll forward it to you for your approval before I send it to Kerry-Anne.”
“Good. Fix it, Archie, please.”
“I’ve got your back, brother, but right now, you need to piss off so I can see the next client and fix this stuff for you. I’ll be in touch.”
I start the pickup with my mind whirling and the only thing I know can help my soured mood is the one thing that will leave me feeling hollow and alone has soon as the deed is done and high has faded.
I’m going to hate myself in the morning.