Chapter 29
CELINE
Iwake on the couch with a thin shaft of dirty light shining across the living room.
Sitting up, I forget about yesterday for a second: forget about the gambling center and the fighting, and finally the lovemaking with Damian.
All too soon, it all crashes back in, and I’m thrust firmly back into the real world.
I stand, stretching my arms over my head. At least the house isn’t under attack. That’s something small I can be grateful for.
Julian and Damian are in the kitchen, talking animatedly. They stop when I enter. Julian stands on one side of the counter and Damian on the other. Damian looks down at the floor when he sees me.
For a second, I’m stung, then I see the pulsing of his jaw.
He doesn’t want to look at me too long because he might lose control again.
Last night was the best sex I’ve ever had, hands down, no competition.
When I was riding him, I felt powerful, not some scared girl stuck in a room with a psycho.
It’s like the simple act of making love shattered and then remade my world.
In the cold light of day, everything rushes back in.
Julian frowns as though reading my thoughts.
“What were you two arguing about?” I ask, praying it’s not me.
Damian leans against the counter, the corded muscles in his arms bulging.
“Julian has been contacted,” he says.
“One of my buddies in the Family. Mario.”
“Mario?” I ask, with a faint smile.
Julian rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “Yes, Mario. And before you ask, no, he doesn’t have a brother named Luigi.”
We all laugh, and for a few precious moments, the world almost seems normal.
“Well, what did Mario say?” I ask.
“The fight at the addiction center has broken the news about what half the Family has been doing. The other half isn’t too happy about it—”
“According to Mario,” Damian grunts.
Julian flashes a look at him. “Yeah, according to Mario. Apparently, there’s an auction tonight at an underground nightclub in the city.
There are going to be…” Julian curls his lips.
“Women, girls there for sale. Mario has offered to help us infiltrate the meeting.” Julian looks at Damian.
“He mentioned you too. He said that the Don lost a lot of favor sending men after you.”
“Not men,” Damian grunts. “Not just men, Julian.”
Julian nods, taking it. “You’re right. He sent your best friend after you. That’s how out of control this bastard is.”
“It could be a trap,” Damian says.
“Or it could be a chance to end this.”
Damian nods, accepting the truth of this. “Where were all these so-called heroes when the Don made his move on me? Why didn’t any of them start digging and learn the truth sooner?”
“They were scared,” Julian says simply. “Hell, man, I was scared. You were the only one brave enough to go against the Family on your own. You’ve always been the brave one while we slink around in the shadows, completely terrified.”
Pride swells in me as I look at Damian. He shrugs, trying to make it seem like no big deal.
“The other option is we revisit leaving,” Julian says. “When Mom and Dad come home, I’ll meet them at the airport and come clean. We’ve both got cash, Damian. We can move somewhere else. Set up new identities.”
Damian looks at me for too long, considering Julian is right there. “If we leave, the auction goes ahead. Don… No, I won’t call him Don. He doesn’t deserve that title. Salvatore will keep poisoning this city.”
Fear spikes through me. The memory of gunfire and screaming and the close brush with death attempts to paralyze me.
But then I think of Maria, so brave when I reset her dislocated finger, barely making a noise despite the agony of it. I think of everything those poor women and girls went through… and how many more will suffer.
“We can’t run,” I say.
Damian nods. “Then that’s that. We’re not running.”
Julian coughs out a laugh. “I’ve been trying to convince him for damn near ten minutes. But you walk in, Celine, and like that.” He snaps his fingers.
“It’s the right thing,” Damian grumbles. “People can think what they want about me. Call me the Beast. I’ve worn that name like armor for a long time. But I’ve done what I can with what I have. I’ve tried to make a difference from inside this fucking hellhole we call a life.”
Julian becomes serious. “I know, man. I know. I’ve never doubted that. You’ve always been better than me.”
“No,” Damian snaps. “I didn’t mean that.”
Julian shakes his head. “I get it. I honestly do. And…” He gets choked up.
“I’m sorry.” Tears glimmer in his eyes. “The truth is, when Salvatore came to me with the job to take you out, I was too scared to say no. Do you know what forced me to change my mind? When you dropped those two men, I ran. I hid nearby. And I thought to myself, Damian never would’ve agreed to this.
That’s what finally made me do the right thing, if you can even call it the right thing after how far I let it go. ”
Damian nods. “You’re right. I never would’ve agreed. I would’ve eaten a bullet before that. But you know what, Julian? If I had a sister—”
Julian gets choked up. “Don’t say it—”
“You’d never touch her. Not in a million damn years. So, neither of us is perfect.”
I stand at the edge of the scene as emotion tears through both men. I’m caught in the middle, unsure of whom to comfort or if my comfort would even be welcome.
I’m not sure what to do or say, only that these two men clearly care about each other and any rift between them deserves to be healed. Damian breathes through gritted teeth, then looks at me, a look of devastation in his eyes.
“We’re going to do this because it’s the right thing,” he says, holding my gaze. “No matter what happens, no matter how this plays out, we’ll always have that… this is the right thing.”
“I could do with some good karma,” Julian says. “But…”
“What?” I ask, my voice breaking.
Emotion is laced heavily in the air, like any moment we could all burst into tears. Or maybe that’s just me projecting because I feel a sob creeping up my neck and threatening to burst out.
“Before we leave, Celine, we’ll drive you out of the city. Take you to a safe house. You’ll wait there, hidden, and if you don’t hear from us…” He clears his throat.
“There will be an exit strategy,” Damian picks up. “You’ll have a car and directions to another safe house, then another, until you can meet with my FBI contact and start a new life.”
“I don’t want to think about that,” I whisper.
Damian rushes across the room and takes my hands. For a moment, he hesitates when he realizes what he’s done, how far he’s let himself go without even thinking about it. Over his shoulder, I see the indecision on my big brother’s face, a flicker of rage before he buries it.
Damian leans down, stares at me. “Think about it,” he tells me. “If we go in there to save those poor girls, and I don’t know you’re safe and ready to run… it’ll break me.”
“Me too,” Julian says with a croak.
“What were you going to say?” I ask Julian. “You said but… but you didn’t finish.”
Damian turns to him, his hand still on mine. It’s like he can’t stop, like he needs as much physical contact between us as he can possibly get before he rides into the gates of hell.
“I need to know what this is,” he says. “Is it a fling? Is it something else? You said it’s only been a little while, but if that’s a lie, now is the time to come clean about that.”
“It’s not a lie,” Damian says in disgust.
Julian waves his hand angrily. “Look at you both,” he snaps. “You expect me to believe that this has been going on for days? That you weren’t sneaking around long before you helped with his wounds, Celine? Really?”
“It’s the truth,” Damian says, matter of fact. “Life isn’t a fairytale. I’m too old, and life has beaten me up too many times to believe in love at first sight…” His voice grows husky. “But if I said we didn’t have something real, I’d be lying.”
Julian looks at me expectantly.
The stress and the emotion catches up and tears prick my eyes.
“Oh, we’ve got something,” I murmur, struggling to hold back a sob.
Julian has never been able to see me cry without comforting me, and I don’t want to manipulate him.
“You want to know what this is? There are no simple answers. But we have something, something real.”
Julian groans and leans against the counter, massaging his jaw.
“This is still so damn surreal for me, seeing you two like this… but I know you both. And I’ve never seen you so content before, so sure.
Either of you. Damian, you’ve never dated, never thought you were worth it.
And Celine, you’ve been so busy and, let’s face it… ”
“Go on,” I whisper.
“Self-conscious,” he says with a shrug.
“I don’t feel that way with Damian,” I tell him honestly.
How could I?
Every time he looks at me, it’s like the first time, like my undeniable beauty is crashing into him.
Every time he looks at me, I learn the meaning of the word obsession.
“If we’re going to do this,” he says. “If we’re going to gear up and go to war against the mob, if we’re going to take out the Don and his fucked-up goons, then I have to be okay with this. I can’t go in there with this hanging over me. I have to put your happiness before this weird feeling.”
A shudder escapes me, a sob finally breaking like a wave on a beach. With the hand that isn’t glued to Damian’s like I’m holding on for dear life, I wipe a tear from my cheek.
“It’s not easy,” Julian says. “But I accept this–accept you two together.”
“Don’t feel like you have to,” I whisper, not daring to get my hopes up too fast.
“I mean it,” Julian says passionately.
Damian lets go of my hand, approaches his friend, my brother. “If we’re going to do this, there’s something I need to say too.” He rests his hand on Julian’s arm. “I forgive you.”
Julian turns his head to cover the glimmer in his eyes. I cover my mouth with my hands as emotion surges up inside me.
“I forgive you,” Damian says again, voice firm and heavy with feeling. “You were scared. You had the weight of the Family bearing down on you. And in the end, you made the right choice. So I’ll say it again, Julian, because we’ve been through too much to end things here. I forgive you, man.”
Julian turns back, eyes shiny. He nods. “Thank you,” he pushes the words out.
I walk over to them, knowing that many people would find this strange, not caring even a tiny bit. I wrap one arm around my brother and the other around his best friend and pull myself in for a hug.
It begins to snow as we drive out of the city, a blanket of it thickening on country fields.
Damian drives, and Julian sits in the passenger seat.
I hug my knees to my chest, trying not to relive what happened in the basement, trying – and failing – not to think about the fact I could lose them both if this goes wrong.
“I’ve called my contact,” Damian says. “When we leave you at the safe house, you’ll stay in the secure room.
It’d take a nuke to get in there. There’s supplies, facilities, and everything you need.
If we’re not back by a certain time, get in the car we left for you and drive west. We’ll leave the address in the glovebox. You’ll be safe.”
I bite my lip.
But I won’t be with you.
Even with Julian’s tentative approval, I don’t let these words out.
The safe house is a sleek home, all glass, beside a frozen lake, built so that it’s raised off the ground with a garage beneath it. The snowfall has picked up, becoming a thick shield that hides the scrub by the time we pull into the garage.
Damian takes me to the safe room at the rear of the house. It has a door like a bank vault and is built like a mini apartment. He nods towards the door. “It’s easy enough to open from the inside. Don’t open it for anyone except for us.”
I rush to him, throwing myself into his arms. “Please come back.”
He clings onto me desperately, pulling me flush against him so that there’s no space between our bodies.
“Whatever happens, you’ll be—”
“No, Damian.” I lean back so that I can place my hand against his chest, clawing against his firmness through his shirt. “Don’t promise me I’ll be safe. Don’t promise me whatever happens, I’ll get out of here. I want you to promise that you’ll come back to me.”
He sighs, as if he’s debating saying it to me. He could say it even if he doesn’t mean it. If he doesn’t return, it’ll mean he’s dead–or worse, a prisoner of the mob, experiencing all kinds of twisted horrors. He won’t have to confront me after lying.
“I can’t promise you that,” he says. “But I’ll try with everything I’ve got. Because fighting to come back to you gives me more motivation than anything else possibly could.”
He kisses me like he’s scared of my reply, like he’s worried that it isn’t good enough. Maybe it’s not, but when our lips collide, I can’t argue anymore. I wrap my arms tightly around him and disappear into the reality-obliterating closeness of our kiss.
Nothing else–just this, just us.
“We’ve got a little time before we have to leave,” he murmurs, his breath sensually moving over me.
I turn away, guilt stabbing at me. “I’m not sure I’m in the mood…”
“Hey.” He touches my chin, turns me back to him. “I’m not an animal.”
Somehow, I laugh, jabbing him playfully. “Liar.”
“Okay, maybe I am.” He smirks. “But I was going to ask, Celine, will you do me the honor…”
Is he kidding? He’s not going to ask that question, is he?
“Of building a snowman with me?”
A surreal laugh grips me. “Are you serious?”
“Scared you haven’t got enough Christmas spirit for it, eh?”
“I’m up for the challenge.”
He squeezes my hip. “We’ll see about that.”
We put on our coats and gloves and go outside. Julian sits on the porch with coffee steam whirling around us, watching as we gather and pack the snow. It’s difficult to let the significance of this day go at first, but the further we get, the more distant the drama becomes.
Damian steps back, hands on his hips, chuckling as I add the finishing touches: two stones for eyes, a stick for a nose, and a bunch of broken sticks to form a mouth.
“Is that supposed to be me?”
I study the frowning, grumpy stick mouth, then turn to him with a big smile. “How could you tell?”
For precious seconds, it’s Christmas again, and no one can hurt us.
Then it all hits me: the fact this could be the last time I see him and my brother, the battle they’re walking into, the guilt at calling in ‘sick’ to work when they’re going to be understaffed and rushing to find cover, the fact that I might be falling in love and it could all be taken away with the cold punch of a bullet.
But I don’t let my smile falter. I keep it glued to my face, staring at my man, as snow flutters around him and settles in his hair.