Damien, Forever (An Art of Sinners Novel)

by Tempest Phan

  Perhaps I should have turned around and walked away, discretion and all. But I couldn’t bear to see the strain on Lukas’s face during what could only be a confrontation. So instead, I opened the door softly and stepped in. Mark Stone was nearly shouting now, his handsome face livid, a stark contrast to the flat, pale platinum of his hair.

  “I do not give a bloody fuck what you think,” he snarled. “You will drop this bullshit now, Lukas. Do you not realize the harm you are doing to the firm? We are not here to start a war.”

  “It isn’t my intent, Father. But justice will be served,” Lukas responded calmly, although his voice was tight.

  “I repeat. You will drop this now. What the bloody hell is wrong with you? Why must you always make a mess of things? Stone Law is in a very precarious position as of late, and you know this. We need to be careful and vigilant, goddamnit. You’ve always been useless. Bloody useless. Go back to your philandering and leave the running of Stone affairs to those who have common sense and purpose, boy. Bloody useless.”

  “I’m sorry to yet again be such a disappointment, Father.” Lukas’s tone was even, almost monotonous. But I knew him well enough to sense the turmoil inside of him.

  They still hadn’t seen me. I was hesitating whether to make my presence known when Mark threw his wine glass against a wall and shouted, “Yes, a fucking disappointment. You’ve always been a fucking disappointment. Both to me and to your mother. No wonder she offed herself, you bloody useless twat!”

  Lukas paled. I could no longer stand by and watch. I rushed to his side and grabbed his hand. In the back of my mind, memories surged of a similar incident, but with a different boy, at a different time, in a different life. I pushed it all down and turned the lock.

  “Mark.”

  The older Stone turned to me, his eyes still wild with rage, not quite registering my apparition. I shot him the iciest Davenport glare I could muster and continued, “I’ll forgive you this outburst because you are obviously drunk. And I do not care that this is your home. Do not ever, ever dare to speak to Lukas in that manner again, or I swear to God . . .”

  Lukas looked at me, his eyes slightly disoriented as well, the light somehow dimmed from their depths. His face was stoic, but I could see the pain etched deeply onto it, falling into what I now knew were familiar lines and crevices years in the making.

  “Come, my love,” I whispered. “Perhaps it is time for us to leave.”

  He smiled, but none of it reached his eyes. Still holding my hand, he led me out of the study. I paused at the entrance and turned back to say to Mark, “Perhaps when you have recovered your lucidity, you can call Lukas and apologize for your appalling behavior. You will not be welcome in our home until you do so.”

  Mark didn’t respond. He just looked at us as we walked out, a mask of shame slithering over his face.

  I knew his type. God forbid that the world saw them as anything less than paragons.

  Later that night, deeply ensconced in Lukas’s arms and only semi-awake, I heard as he whispered to me, likely thinking me fast asleep, “Bella love. I could only ever dream of such loyalty. What would I ever do without you?”

  Bella

  Lukas and I had been together for nearly two years when Damien agreed to come out and see us, after years of avoiding being in the same room as me. And why not? We were older, and hopefully, wiser. I was in a happy relationship. I could only hope that the pull from when we were kids had eroded with time and distance. I could only hope, in spite of the whispers inside my heart.

  I went to the airport to pick him up, and my heart stopped when I saw him come toward me. He hadn’t changed in all those years. Still tall, still hard, still beautiful, his face unbelievably gorgeous, his ocean eyes somehow bluer, still ringed in black.

  Still, still, still.

  When he reached me, he paused for a few heartbeats. He stood there, his hair a glorious mess. My panicked brain barely registered that it was no longer shaved at the sides, that his bangs no longer reached his chin. They were shorter, but still hit his forehead in a mess, swept to the side. The brow, nose, lip rings were still in place. And he was still hard and lean, perhaps harder than I remembered, his taut muscles showing through the T-shirt he was wearing, his black jeans slung insolently low over slim hips. He was devastating and I was lost. He stepped forward and crushed me against him, new ink dripping from his fingers, a blooming crown of thorns and tears joining the wilted roses from so long ago.

  “Oh, Bella baby. I’ve missed you so damn much . . .”

  And yet, we were almost like strangers, in spite of our near-daily texts and calls. Seeing him like this, in front of me, warm flesh and blood, was nothing at all like a small phone screen during our video calls. He stole my breath. He assaulted my senses. Massacred my heart. Tore me up inside. And I knew it was wrong. All fucking wrong.

  When we pulled into the driveway, Lukas’s new red Maserati was parked on the street, and Damien looked back at it as we walked up.

  “That’s one hell of a car.”

  Lukas opened the door and stood on the porch as we approached.

  “Hello love,” he called to me. I smiled at him, trying to telegraph that he had nothing to worry about.

  That night, Lukas made love to me with a possessiveness that almost scared me. With his hands, he pinned my arms above my head, driving deeply, urgently, almost painfully into me over and over again. His eyes searching mine intently. Could he see my emotional betrayal in them? I closed my eyes, knowing that I was unfair to be shutting him out. I pulled my arms away from his grip and wrapped them around his neck before burying my face against his chest.

  And no matter how I tried to will myself to not think of Dame, I did. I imagined him to be the one above me, the one kissing me in almost quiet desperation. Whisper-soft kisses on my face and lips, moaning my name softly, silently saying, “You’re mine, Bella. Mine. Mine only.”

  If it were you, Damien, I thought. If it were you . . . If I were yours . . . I kissed Lukas back, my emotional numbness finally ebbing, my eyes tightly shut, imagining not the glorious, golden man above me, but my dark Damien. Damien whose blue eyes saw right through my soul, whose name was a hidden whisper on my lips. Damien in all his strength and steadfastness and loyalty. It was him that I thought of, as Lukas’s lips rained kisses on my face and neck, as his hands and more caressed my body and probed my darkest, deepest places. And knowing all along how deeply, terribly unfair it was for the man in whose arms I was, in my mind, I made love to Damien instead. Somewhere I heard a door open and close. I ignored my hidden tears as wave upon wave of pleasure-pain hit me.

  ***

  Damien

  She was behind that closed door. In bed with a man who wasn’t me. A good man, one who obviously loved her, one who at least could give her everything her heart and soul desired. A man that I hadn’t ever been.

  I heard the rhythmic squeaking of the bed, the soft muffled sighs and moans, recognized her sweet voice, her sounds of pleasure, and suddenly I couldn’t breathe. My treacherous mind began to wander, unstoppable in its torture of my heart.

  Here he was, kissing her lips, likely journeying lower and lower as her moans intensified. Lower, lower before he stopped on her other lips, her clear, bright scent intoxicating him, driving him insane with just how perfect she was, how perfect she tasted.

  Her taste.

  I could still remember her on my tongue, petal softness and honeyed sweetness.

  I trembled. But my mind continued its torment.

  There she was, taking him into her velvet mouth, licking, sucking, until he was likely close to exploding. And then he would wrap her small body in his arms and plunge inside of her, tormenting her, fucking her tight heat in long strokes, bringing her excruciating pleasure as she would moan his name softly. Her gorgeous face would likely be flushed, her eyes half closed, as she lost herself in him.

  And then, she’d make that small sound in her throat, the one that meant she was
on the verge of falling apart.

  Oh, that sound. I’d lived for it, still heard it in my mind’s eye, every night as I fell asleep. Still lived for it, still imagined I was the one to earn it from her.

  If she were mine.

  I knew I should have expected this, but how could I have been fool enough to think I could go through with it? I was suffocating, my heart exploding into shards and dripping poison at the thought of another man fucking her. I grabbed my wallet and headed out the front door.

  Damien

  I was sitting at the kitchen table when he walked in. Bella wasn’t home. He gave me a curt nod before heading to the cupboard to grab a mug.

  “She will be right back,” I volunteered, pointing to the note written in her light, loopy cursive on the table.

  He nodded. He poured himself a cup of coffee, completely black, completely the opposite of me with my four sugars and five gallons of heavy cream. He took a sip before looking my way. I leaned back in my chair, left arm thrown over its back, meeting his stare straight on. He took another slow sip, still looking at me over his mug.

  “Do you go to bed with that shite on?” he asked.

  Everything about this man was so fucking fancy. The house. The car. Even the way he said “shit” in those cultured tones of his.

  “What shit?” I asked, rubbing the side of my neck.

  He pointed to his eye, likely referring to my liner, which lately, I’d been wearing like war paint right upon awakening. Blame it on the band, I guess. But I knew it had always been a mask of sorts, something to protect me against the world, something like the piercings and the ink, visible markers that clearly screamed out who they thought I was, just so I wouldn’t disappoint them with the truth.

  I bit down on my lip rings and just smiled in response. I’d spent my whole life being the subject of snide remarks. Didn’t give two fucks about what an asshole aristocrat thought, especially not one who’d stolen my girl.

  I frowned. She wasn’t mine to steal.

  He interrupted my dangerous rumination. “Never mind. So, remind me. How do you know Bella, again?”

  Like he fucking didn’t know.

  “She and I grew up together.”

  “She mentioned you were her best friend.”

  I smirked.

  “We’ve met before, haven’t we?” he insisted.

  “Yeah. Come to think of it, we have, if you can call those short encounters meeting someone.”

  “The charity dinner.”

  I smiled, but I knew it did not reach my eyes. “And the club.”

  “Ah, yes. The club.”

  We kept looking at each other. His eyes gave away nothing. A good trait for a lawyer, I supposed.

  Finally, an audible sigh and the sound of the mug being placed on the counter.

  “Listen, this is awkward. I get it.”

  I laughed. No shit?

  I stood up and walked over the few feet to stand in front of him by one of the grey granite counters. “Enough bullshit.” I crossed my arms and leaned back. I looked him straight in the eye, which was easy as we were both exactly the same height, something I wasn’t used to, as I normally towered over most men.

  “How much do you love her?” The words were barely a whisper on my lips.

  His mouth turned up in a sneer. “At least as much as you do. If not more.”

  And there it was.

  “Is it that evident?”

  He laughed. It sounded dark and bitter. “You’d have to be blind—or Bella—to not see that.”

  I didn’t respond.

  He must have taken pity on me because he finally said, “Listen, I bloody get it. There isn’t anyone out there like her.” And then, with a hard jut of the chin, “But she’s mine now.”

  Seconds ticked by. I held his stare. Suddenly, the front door opened and she came walking through, a breath of fresh air and sunshine, making my heart skip. She was holding grocery totes, and both Lukas and I rushed over to grab them from her as she turned first to him, then to me, smiling her brilliant smile.

  “Thanks, guys!” She laughed. “I went on a grocery run when I realized we were missing a few key things.” As she said that, she turned to me and fished something out of the tote I was holding, before offering me a brightly colored bag.

  “Candy?” Lukas did not try to hide the snark in his voice.

  I put the tote on the counter and tore open the pack of gummy bears. I threw a couple in my mouth, winking at Bella. “Thanks, baby girl,” I said softly, ignoring the way Lukas’s face tensed at my words.

  She just kept smiling at me. I could feel her light, that warm, radiant light that could only be hers, streaming out of her. I felt both comforted and terrified by it. Comfort because it was her; terrified because Lukas was right. She wasn’t for me.

  “What are your plans for today, again?” His clipped tenor cut through my thoughts.

  “What time are you headed to the office?” Bella asked, turning toward Lukas and dusting something off his shoulder before grinning at him.

  He bopped her cute little nose and took a sip of his coffee before saying, “Late morning. Maybe in the next hour or so.”

  “Ah, well, don’t mind us. I’ll just show Dame around. We’ll be home around dinner time.”

  He simply nodded at her, then glanced back to me and forced a smile. I knew that mine was no more sincere.

  ***

  I watched her traipse ahead of me, the roar of the ocean around us, gorgeous in her white sundress, her dark hair flying in the wind, her creamy skin standing out against the golden sand. It was a warm spring day, and the water was still cool. And yet she walked toward it, turning back to laugh, calling for me to hurry.

  I just smiled at her, my heart catching in my chest. I remembered full well what had happened the last time she and I had been in the water together. A quiet lake on a rainy day. Nothing at all like this private beach, the California sun beating down on us from an unbelievably blue sky.

  I picked up the pace until I was next to her. She stood there, looking at the waves, stepping into the white foam, her toes curling into the wet sand. Without looking at me, her hand reached back and found mine, her fingers lacing through mine.

  I felt electricity course through me at her touch.

  She sighed and turned to put her other hand on my arm. “I’m so happy to finally have you here, Dame. We talk every day, but nothing can ever come close to having you near me.”

  I changed the subject to something safer, something that wasn’t about us.

  “How’s the work on the Mei Ying nonprofit going, Bella?”

  She shrugged, explaining that she’d set the planning aside for a bit. This last year had been a whirlwind of playing perfect girlfriend in support of Lukas and his role as head of Stone L.A., and that had left very little time for anything else beyond her volunteering commitments. She was putting in time at a local shelter as well as overseeing a network of local pantries which, beyond the day-to-day admin, also included throwing fundraisers. She was quite good at raising money, although the requisite galas and receptions and crowds were a drag on my little introvert.

  Some things never changed.

  No, some things couldn’t change.

  She looked up at me, the rawness in her hazel eyes splintering my heart. I knew that I could not hide the emotions in mine, either.

  I smiled nonetheless as she led me back to the warm, dry sand, before sitting down. I plopped down next to her, our arms touching, the round satin softness of her pale shoulder curving against my bicep. I wanted to wrap her against me but held back. It would be inappropriate. It would lead to something more.

  She was looking straight ahead at the ocean, the waves rushing in and out, and I could not help but just stare at her, feeling the unbearable ache in my chest somehow grow by the minute.

  Finally, she turned to me, squinted an eye against the sun, and said, “I have a surprise for you. Come with me.” She stood up and grabbed both of my
hands, laughing as she helped pull me to my feet.

  Later, as she parallel-parked her car in front of a tiny shop in what appeared to be a fairly quiet part of her beach town, I realized that her “surprise” was a trip to an antique instrument dealer. She beamed her gorgeous smile at me and I could feel the happiness radiate from her in waves. There was nothing she loved more than making others happy, and her big heart never failed to fill mine while also taking a sledgehammer to it.

  I got out of the car. I glanced at the clean, bright storefronts lining the oddly tranquil street. Bella had joined me on the sidewalk, but her attention was transfixed on a hidden corner around the side of the building across the street. Her gaze crashed against mine, and a rosy blush spread across her delicate cheekbones. I looked at the spot she’d been staring at and saw a woman kissing a man, clearly very much into it given their state of undress. But what caught my attention was the third figure, a man on his knees beside her, his hand up her skirt.

  Whoa.

  I quickly looked away, my eyes catching Bella’s. That rosy blush had deepened and was now painting her whole face.

  She cleared her throat and laughed, before saying, “Oof. Have you ever, Dame?” There was a teasing lilt to her voice layered over a dose of discomfort. She bit down on her lip.

  I smirked and shook my head as I walked ahead to the shop and held the door open for her. “No. I don’t fucking share.”

  Bella

  “Lukas,” I murmured while in his arms. We’d just had frenzied sex for the last hour. Lukas had always had a healthy drive, but ever since Damien had arrived, he’d been insatiable.