“I did,” he answers, and in that moment I hate his honesty.
“How could you?” I almost whimper. I yank my hands back as if the very touch of him burns me.
“Cara,” his voice is tense, “your uncle wants you, and I can’t just let him take you. I looked at those memory cards so I could make a specific one for him. He has to see what happened to you, but not all of it. I have to get him to back off. You were lucky they didn’t kill you by day two!”
He takes a breath to calm down. My eyes are glued to him as he walks away from me only to turn around and stalk right back until he’s inches from me.
“The mafia fucking kills! They don’t play around, and you should know that. Your parents are dead because your father and uncle got involved with them. The way they work is to take out the smaller dealers until only the most prominent members remain standing. And they take out the whole family. You should’ve died twice already. I won’t risk a third.”
My mouth drops open at hearing his admission. I skip the part of the mafia and dying and go straight to my uncle wanting me after all.
“He wanted me?” I ask lamely.
“You won’t be safe with him.” He shoves his hands through his hair, and it’s the first time I see him frustrated. It’s the first time I see him show real emotion. “Everything I have done is to keep you safe. I won’t do a single thing differently, Cara.” Each word is intense, and it grabs at my heart.
I can’t look at him anymore, and I drop my eyes.
“Now,” he continues gruffly, “I’m glad you’re dealing, and I’m glad you’re angry and finally fucking feeling, but, Cara,” he waits for me to look up, “you don’t disrespect me. Don’t ever raise your hands to me again.”
I watch him leave, and I drop to the floor, my emotions a destructive storm inside of me.
I took it out on him. I took the pain and fear out on Damian, the only person who has been there for me. What have I done?
DAMIAN
I wipe my tired eyes. They’re stinging with unshed tears.
I failed Leah.
I’ve failed Cara once, and I’ll be damned if I’m just going to stand by as Tom takes care of her just to save his own worthless ass.
When Tom reached out to me, saying that he wanted her … I just couldn’t. Why after all these years? There can only be one answer, and that’s because they finally got to him. Maybe they got to him a long time ago? I mean, the shitty new identity he gave her just doesn’t make sense. He had to have known that they would find her if she went by her mother’s name. It’s fucking common sense.
I’ve sent back the money he paid for my services. I’ve closed that account and wiped out any trail that could lead to me. He won’t find her. Fuck, I won’t let it happen. I’ll take care of her. I can make up for failing her once.
When the door to my room creaks open, my eyes snap up and my body tenses. I watch a tiny figure sneak in, and when she sees me by the window, she slowly walks closer.
She stops right in front of me and I hear her suck in a deep breath, and then she looks up.
“I’m so sorry, Damian. What I did was wrong on so many levels,” she blurts the apology out and then waves her hand lamely in the air. “I … I just wanted to apologize.”
I raise my hand to her cheek and catch a tear with my knuckle. I hate it when a woman cries, but not Cara – it’s a sign that she’s finally feeling something. It’s a good thing.
I slip my hand behind her neck and pull her to my chest. She comes willingly, and it’s a small victory. She’s not so scared of my touch anymore.
I hold her for a long while. She’s soft against me. Last night when she walked into the kitchen wearing that skirt and boots, I almost dragged her back to the room. It’s as if something smacked me upside the head, forcing me to see the woman in front of me – and fuck, she is beautiful. Now that all the bruises are gone, it’s hard not to notice her.
At first, I just wanted to do right by her, but then I watched the memory cards, and something exploded inside of me. I have to protect her because no one else will. And then I made the mistake of holding her at that motel, and once she fit so perfectly against my chest, I knew it would be hard to let her go.
She’s grown on me, and if I try to cut her out now, I’ll be carving out a chunk of me. She’s already in too deep.
I lean closer and whisper, “I’m so sorry, Cara.” My voice is hoarse with these fucking unwanted feelings that have no place being in my heart. “I’m so sorry I didn’t get to you sooner.”
“Bruises heal,” she whispers. She lifts her head from my chest, and her eyes find mine. “They didn’t kill me. You came in time, Damian.”
We’ve crossed a line today. There’s no going back. Me and all my rules, and I was the one who broke them all.
I drop my eyes from hers and whisper, “I was a coward.”
Minutes tick by, and she brings her hands to my sides. I’m surprised she’s okay with touching me. Every day she gets better at the touching thing, but I can see it still makes her uncomfortable.
I lean my head back against the wall and close my eyes. I need Cara to trust me, and the only way she’ll trust me is if she knows who I am.
“I ran away from home and joined the army, thinking I could just get away. I was eighteen and stupid. I threw myself into the army, learned everything I could. I avoided going home.”
She moves closer, and her arms slip around me. She presses her cheek to my chest, and I let my arms tighten around her.
“By the time I didn’t feel like a coward anymore…” I pause and suck in a deep breath, “it was too late. I got the call that my girlfriend had committed suicide. I didn’t think for one minute that when I left, he would go after her.”
She keeps quiet, just holding me, and it makes it easier to say the words. “It was the first time I killed someone. I told myself afterward I’d never kill in anger again. There was nothing left of me that night. I killed my own father, and I told myself he deserved to die because he was an animal.” Her breathing speeds up, and she holds me tighter.
“I cleaned up the mess he left behind and disappeared. I tried to make up for failing Leah by helping others. Those I’ve killed could not be called humans. If it makes me a monster for killing them, then so be it.”
I lean forward again, and I bury my face in her neck. I just want to hold her. I want to keep this fragile woman because she’s the only fucking beauty left in this life.
CHAPTER 9
CARA
I don’t move a muscle. I don’t say a word because he’s finally opening up to me.
I turn a blind eye to what he is, a cleaner, and to many, it may seem horribly wrong, but to me, it’s justice on behalf of those who have been wronged.
When the silence stretches I know, he’s done talking. I lift my head and then, standing on my toes, I press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Before I pull back, I whisper, “I have you. You’re safe now.”
It’s my turn to be the strong one. “Remove the shirt,” I snap at him, and I swear I hear him chuckle.
I take a step back and watch as he pulls the material over his head. Then he just stands and looks at me. “Well, you aren’t going to sleep in your jeans and shoes, are you?”
This time he laughs out loud. It’s short and unbelievably sexy. I can’t help but smile back at him.
I slip my shoes off and then get onto his bed. I’m taking a huge risk here, but he’s shown me that I can trust him. I crawl under the covers and then quickly take off my jeans. Dressed in his jeans, he gets in next to me. He slips his arm under my head and then pulls me closer to him.
His body curls around mine just like it did this morning. He places his chin on top of my head. “Thank you,” he says, sounding as exhausted as I feel.
I’m getting used to the safety I feel when I’m with him. How am I going to make it out there once I have to go out on my own? Damian didn’t say how long I could stay for.
I
keep myself busy as much as I can. Damian has been missing in action since this morning, so I guess he’s up in his office working.
I heat up dinner, but there’s still no sign of Damian, so I eat mine while standing at the backdoor. I finish up and then head upstairs to shower. I’ve just changed into a pair of slacks and a tee when he knocks on the door. My heart starts to race suddenly. I don’t know if it’s from wanting to be close to him or the uncertainties I have conjured up in my mind.
He stalks right at me and then frames my face with his hands. He presses his lips softly to my forehead, and I cave. I grab hold of him as if I might lose him within the next second, and I know why – I’m already starting to think about leaving, and the thought scares me half to death.
I see the questions in his eyes, but he doesn’t ask them. He just takes my hand and leads me back to his room.
Long after Damian has fallen asleep, I’m still lying awake with my wretched thoughts. I bite at my lip to keep the tears back. I slow my breathing, willing myself to calm down. I taste blood and let go of my lip, chewing on the inside of my mouth instead. I keep telling myself there are people that have had worse happen to them.
But … it doesn’t change the fact that I want a normal life. I want the same dream any other woman wants. As much as those things scare the hell out of me, I want them all because I’m still a twenty-five-year-old woman with dreams.
I’m trying to nurse myself with some coffee when Damian walks into the kitchen looking like a lion that’s ready to kill.
“I’m going to get Jean. She’ll be staying here until she has things sorted out. I’ll be back in an hour. Could you do me a favor and fix up the other guest room?”
I nod because I’ll spit the coffee out if I open my mouth.
She’s coming to stay.
Here!
With us.
Shit!
“What’s that?” he asks, and I look at him blankly. I’m sure I didn’t say anything out loud.
“What’s what?”
He stalks over to me until the cup presses against my chest. His eyes are hard on my mouth. I drop my eyes to his neck when his thumb brushes over the bruise on my lower lip from where I bit into it last night.
“I…” I start to sputter against his hand and grasp the cup with both my hands. “I… the toothbrush slipped. It nicked my lip,” I lie. I’m terrible at telling lies.
He drops his hand to my chin and lifts my face to his, and he waits for me to look up. He knows I’m not telling the truth.
“Cara.” He leans in, and I feel everything about him surround me – his strength, his stealth, his deadliness, and his vulnerability, and I wish he didn’t have to go and get Jean. I can’t deal with another person in the house. It took me a month to get semi-comfortable with Damian.
“You can talk to me,” he says, and his breath skims over my cheek, “about anything.”
I close my eyes and all the ‘anythings’ rush through my mind. The life I want. My freedom. A mundane career. A family. I want normal. I lift myself a few inches and press a quick kiss to his cheek.
“I’ll remember, thank you,” I say, and I bring the cold coffee to my mouth, hiding behind it.
He gives me a look I can’t quite place before he turns and leaves. I watch him walk out of the kitchen to go get Jean.
What if there’s no place for me here after she moves in? She will be a new person for him to save. The thought haunts me as I make sure the guest room is ready, and then I retreat to my own.
I have lunch in the oven waiting for them. I draw my curtains for the first time, so I can’t see when they come.
Before I realize what I’m doing, I walk to my cupboard and open the doors. I separate three sets of clothes from the rest, and I put them aside on an empty shelf. Only when I’ve done it do I realize those are the sets I’ll be taking with me when I leave. A numb feeling spreads through my body.
I feel like a zombie as I leave the room and walk up to the attic. Damian said he had a new identity created for me. I’ll need it if I want to disappear.
I quickly look in the drawers and then I move over to a filing cabinet. I find a file with my full name printed on it. There are a passport and I.D card in the file. I don’t even look at them as I grab them. I shove both documents into my pocket and race back to my room.
I place the documents under the pile of clothes I’ve set aside. I wait with a pounding heart for them to return. I can’t risk leaving, and they end up finding me next to the road.
When I hear wheels spinning over the gravel, I place my hand over my heart and take deep breaths.
I can do this. I have to do this.
I turn my back to the door and stare at the cupboard, trying to think up excuses for why I’m staying in my room and not coming out. I can hear them moving around the house and talking. My eyes keep darting to the slightly open door. I wish I had the guts to close it all the way.
Eventually, the afternoon turns gray and night sets in. I stop thinking of excuses and start to reassure myself that I’m doing the right thing by leaving.
As soon as it’s dark, I get into bed. I hear the door creak open wider and quickly snap my eyes closed.
“Cara.” His voice is a soft whisper. Whether it’s not to wake me, or not to disturb her, I don’t know. I’m hoping he’ll think I’m asleep. I hear the door creak some more and I breathe out. And then I hear him move and pins and needles flush my body hot and cold all at once. He’s not left like I thought he did!
The bed shifts under his weight and I stiffen, waiting, but he doesn’t touch me.
“I want to help you, but I’ll leave it to you to come to me,” he whispers. His fingers are soft on my hair, barely there, and then he moves away.
This time I watch him leave, and as he pulls the door slightly closed, tears sting my eyes.
I want to cry because I don’t know if I can live this life he lives.
I want to cry because I don’t know what the future has in store for me.
I want to cry because there will always be a death sentence hanging over my head, and I don’t even know who wants me dead. It’s terrifying having a faceless enemy.
I’m so empty and filled with longing for the only place I feel safe.
I drag my weary body out of bed. When I open my door, I jump back a step. I don’t know how long Damian has been standing outside my door.
He takes the step that closes the distance between us and his palms warm my cheeks. His hands move into my hair, and he presses his lips to my forehead. “I have you. You’re safe, Cara,” he whispers.
He takes my hand and pulls me to his room which has become my sanctuary of late. I crawl onto the bed and wait for him to lie down before I snuggle into his side.
“Damian,” I whisper, wanting to keep the calmness that has settled between us. “Why did you keep me?” I ask the question that’s been on my mind most since he brought me here.
“I’d rather not answer that one,” he denies me an answer for the first time.
I pull back so I can see his face better. He’s frowning, and that worry muscle in his jaw is ticking overtime.
“Why not?” I push. I shouldn’t but, against my better judgment, I do.
“You’re healing, Cara.” He tries to smile, but it looks like a grimace. “Let’s leave it at that.”
I look down at his chest, and I think about what he just said. Why would it have anything to do with me healing?
“Uhm…”
I can feel the frustration pulse off of him.
“Why can’t you just leave it?” he growls. “I failed Leah. I left her unprotected, and he beat the shit out of her, knowing it was the only way to get to me. My father killed her. I know it in my gut. They say she hanged herself, but I don’t believe it for one fucking minute. He killed her. I failed her and fuck,” he hisses, “I failed you, too! Do you want to hear that I feel like shit because I was too late?” I try not to see the connection - that I’m nothing
more than a replacement for his dead girlfriend that he couldn’t save.
His voice is nothing but a mere whisper, “Tom sent me the first recording they made of you. I watched that recording of you being beaten over and over… and…” He reaches for me, but just before his hand touches my cheek, he drops it. “I just knew I had to get to you. I felt sick knowing they had you.”
“Me or Leah,” I whisper and I lift my eyes to his. “Did you go to get me or Leah?” I ask, and my voice quivers. “Who did you bring home, Damian? Me or Leah?”
His face darkens, and I see the predator, just like he was that day when he came to get me. He lifts his head slowly, and my heart starts to beat heavily, thumping faster when he sucks a breath through his teeth.
“I dragged you out of that fucking hole,” he hisses. “I cleaned you, Cara.” My name sounds bitter on his lips. “I killed nine men for you.” He takes a breath, and I know he’s not done. I’ve angered him.
“Don’t…” I start, but he holds up his hand, and the gesture alone makes the air crackle.
“I feel because of you. I hate because of you. I’m angry because of you. I wish I could go back and torture them, make them suffer, instead of giving them such quick deaths.” His voice drops, and every word is like a punch. “When I watched those recordings they made of you…” He pauses, and I start to shake my head, willing him to stop. “That’s not what gutted me, Cara. Hearing you scream in my house for those fuckers to stop is what eats at my fucking soul! Not knowing how to make it fucking better frustrates the shit out of me. Do you know how fucked up I feel because I was too late?”
“Please stop,” I croak, my lungs burning for air.
He takes a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m not answering your question though, am I? I kept you because you have no one. There’s not a single fucking person out there that cares if you die. I saw someone who was shoved into this fucked up world to fend for herself, and she couldn’t. I saw someone who needed to be protected.” He sucks in a ragged breath, and then he whispers, “I see the most beautiful fucked up woman in front of me, and she’s perfect. You’re so beautifully broken, and it makes me want to keep you.”
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