Chapter 22
Light
“My god. I know I am married to your brother, but damn, that man is fine. Even my kids are enamored.”
Dee’s voice pulls my gaze from the same view I have been ogling, the cucumber I am supposed to be cutting gripped tightly in my fist. I put it down on the chopping board and blush, feeling like a child being caught doing something naughty.
“Don’t be embarrassed. It’s a miracle you get anything done with him around.” She laughs, and I relax, focusing on the task at hand.
But like a magnet, my gaze drifts over to the man sitting casually in the chair outside.
My nephew bounces on one leg merrily while my niece rests against his chest, his hand rubbing her back softly while she sleeps.
As usual, he looks relaxed, as if handling two children is a gentle breeze on a summer day, a daily occurrence.
The heat of the day means he is in only a T-shirt, as opposed to the suits he usually wears, and the contrast between his tattooed hands and arms and the innocent children he is handling so delicately makes the view even more enticing—a stark contradiction if ever there was one.
It's like watching the devil frolic in heaven.
The truth of that is now even more apparent after our conversation last night.
Those hands have killed—the same hands touching those little beings.
I should feel repulsed, but as with all the red flag emotions that should be there with Damon, that feeling is missing in action.
They have been from the beginning. The truth of his words and the fact that I knew he was a bad man from the start make me sigh out loud.
I knew. Saying otherwise would be a blatant lie.
“You can talk to me, Si.” Dee brings her board and places it next to me, three uncut tomatoes nearly rolling off.
“What’s wrong?” I look up at her, her brow furrowed as she waits patiently for me to open up to her.
We used to talk all the time. But since James died, our relationship has changed.
I didn’t want to burden her with my negative emotions and feelings, not when she had so much on her plate with the little ones.
She still does. Those terrorists are the quietest I have seen them.
Usually, they run around, causing chaos, and it takes both her and Liam to keep them in check.
I hesitate, wondering how I would go about telling her that she has a murderer in her house. That his metaphorical blood-covered hands are gentling her little ones into submission. How I would tell her that I am in love with said killer and he was not only in love with me but obsessed.
His words from last night were overwhelming and confusing. My moral stance on his actions was insufficient to prevent me from wanting Damon. It should be, but truthfully, it wasn’t.
Because I am in love with him.
“I’m in love with him.” That’s what comes out of my mouth.
Dee’s frown transforms, and slowly, a smile spreads across her face.
“I’m so happy for you, Si.” My lack of enthusiasm slowly steals her smile until she is frowning again.
“Are we not happy about this?” she asks, hesitating before she speaks again. “Is it because of James? You know you have nothing to feel guilty about.” The very fact that this no longer plays a part in my feelings ignites that feeling, the irony not lost on me.
“It’s not that.” I chew on my lip, trying to figure out how to voice my concerns without giving too much away.
“If you’re worried about how he feels about you, don’t be.
I’ve never seen a man look at a woman the way Damon looks at you.
It's straight out of a romance novel. It’s downright feral.
Raw even. I can tell he is guarded, and I doubt many really know him.
But when he looks at you, that wall drops, and everything he feels for you is visible.
It's like looking at another man. He would do anything for you. Anything. Even die for you if it came down to it.”
She lifts her eyebrows and dips her head towards the outside area, and when I look over, dark chocolate eyes lock with mine.
I can see what Dee means. I can feel what Dee means.
The shiver that runs down my spine, the speeding up of my heart, and the sudden dryness of my mouth. He impacts me as much as I affect him.
“What did I tell you? Hot. I'm surprised he hasn’t scorched you to nothingness with that gaze.” Dee chuckles, resuming her chopping.
I blush the same shade as the tomatoes, making Damon smirk before I finally look away. I swear he can hear us even from his spot outside.
“I know he loves me. He told me last night. It’s just…” I look at her, trying and failing to get the words past my lips.
“It's because of who he is?” If it weren’t for my forehead, my eyebrows would be at the back of my head.
“You know who he is?” I had just learned who he was, so I wondered how she did.
“Honestly, I wish I didn’t know the name Damon Deangelo, and only because it is linked to a part of my past I wish never happened.”
Her voice is filled with so much hurt, and her eyes are glassy with emotion. I wait, not wanting to rush her but curious as hell how these two opposites in every way are connected.
Dee is the sweetest person I know. Kind, caring, compassionate. She never raises her voice, even with the kids, and always looks after them and my brother like they are treasures she needs to protect. I can’t imagine any darkness in her past. Was I that bad at reading people?
“Right after my parents died when I was ten, I was placed in an orphanage. A nice one, just on the other side of town.” She looks down, taking a tomato and slowly slicing into it as she talks.
This was the first time she spoke of her past. I’d never heard her mention her parents or any family before.
At their wedding, she had no family present—only a handful of friends.
I thought it was strange but never mentioned it, thinking perhaps she had a fallout with them.
This is the first I know that both her parents are dead.
“One day, a viewing day, a rich middle-aged couple came to the orphanage, looking to adopt three children. Two girls and a boy. Over the age of ten, which I was at that time. I was so excited. Usually, the people who came wanted to adopt babies or toddlers. So I put on my best yellow sundress and combed my hair until it was shiny, hoping to be picked. Hoping to be part of a family again.” Her voice is so sad that I palm my chest, my empathy once again overwhelming me. It was like I could feel how she felt.
“I was so excited when they picked me. Me, Raina, and Marcel. They promised us things beyond our wildest twelve-year-old imaginations. All the other kids at the orphanage were so jealous. We couldn't believe our luck when we pulled up to the massive mansion we would call home. How na?ve we were.”
A tear trickles down her cheek and drips onto her arm.
“As soon as we stepped foot into that mansion, things changed. Gone were the charming smiles on their faces. Instead, I saw the true face of evil. It lived in these people and what they did to us, Sienna.” Her voice breaks, and I can't help the tear that slips from my lid in response to the many others pouring down her face.
“I have not spoken of it to anyone. Not even your brother.” She daps her face and then composes herself.
“I ran away when I was sixteen—ended up on the streets. But that was better than the House of Horrors. When I turned eighteen, the money in the trust fund my parents set up for me became available, and that’s when my life turned around.
I bought a small flat. I attended college and found a good job at your brother's firm. That’s how we met.
Years later, I saw an article in the newspaper.
‘Prominent couple slaughtered.’ Their genitals were mutilated, and they had been tortured. They suffered. Terribly.”
She finally looks up at me.
“I was happy, Si.” I can see she feels tormented about this. The image of a sweet twelve-year-old Dee being abused floats through my mind, and I, too, am happy her abusers are dead. What does that make me? What does that make us?
“Marcel called me that same day. He had left that place and made a name for himself in some tech firm. He knew who had killed those evil bastards.” Her eyes drift over to Damon before meeting mine again.
“It was never confirmed, but he told me a contract had been taken out on that couple. A contract that had been completed by a man referred to as the darkness himself. The man rumored to have done this owns the club where you work. Sin. All speculation, of course. Nothing was ever proved. But I know it is him. I just know. And I’m grateful, Sienna.
I wished so many times I could do it myself.
And if someone put those two in front of me and put a gun in my hand, I would kill them.
Without hesitation or conscience. What does that make me? No different to him. A bad person.”
I am stunned. Gobsmacked. Her words and her past are not what I expected.
“No, Dee. You are not a bad person. You’re not,” I say with conviction as I watch the uncertainty swim in her eyes.
“When those people were killed, they had five children in their care. All adopted from orphanages. The authorities knew what was happening there. I went to the police station when I ran away and reported them. You know what the cops said?” She looks at me with anger on her face and venom in her tone, so unlike what I am accustomed to when talking to her.
“They told me I was lying and trying to extort money from people who were only trying to help ungrateful shits like me. And I wasn’t the only one.
Raina also went, and some of the children who were at the house after us who had suffered the same abuse.
But money buys silence, and they bought their silence and their ticket to continue abusing young children. ”
If she were the kind of person to spit on the floor, she would. I could feel the pure rage and venom from her.