by Regan Ure
"Really?" I asked him.
"It's the truth," he shot back, pretending to be upset that I even questioned the description.
That was the thing about Chris: he was a person that was just so addictive to be around because he always lightened the mood.
"So are you going to tell me the reason why you and Damien are going to remain friends instead of giving into your hormones and getting it on, which, I might add, is inevitable?" he asked. I hoped he wasn't right, because I would be the one getting my heart broken.
"He doesn't date, and I need more than that."
My answer was simple.
"You do deserve someone who is emotionally capable of loving you," he told me softly. He didn't act seriously often, but his words and the lack of a smile on his told me that he meant every word. It touched my heart.
"Thanks," I whispered as I put my hand on his. He linked his hand through mine.
"Any idea when they're going to let you out of here?" He gazed around the room in distaste. "I hate hospitals."
"Maybe tomorrow," I murmured. I didn't want to think about that yet. It gave me a whole new set of problems that I would have to deal with.
I yawned. It was hard to believe I was still tired even after the nap I'd just had.
"If you need to sleep, I can go," he offered.
"No, please stay. I'm okay," I insisted.
He stayed for a while longer, and there was no sign of Damien. I wasn't sure if it was because Chris was visiting me or if he was trying to avoid me.
Despite trying to stay awake, I started dozing off while Chris was giving me a rundown of all the gossip at school.
When I woke up, it was early evening. The first thing my eyes searched for was Damien, and I found him sitting in the chair beside me.
I was relieved. He had come back.
"Hey," he greeted me when he noticed I was awake.
"Hi," I replied, rubbing my eyes.
I sat up.
"Chris?" I asked. I must have fallen asleep while he'd been visiting.
"I saw him on his way out. He said you were so tired you drifted off in the middle of the best school gossip," he informed me, a smile tugging his lips.
"I've slept so much but it just never seems to be enough."
"You're healing, your body needs time to recover," he explained gently.
He was right. I glanced down at my arms. The bruises, which had once been black and blue, were turning a light yellow color. Soon they would be gone. My stab wound on my stomach was much better as well.
"The nurses came around with your food while you were sleeping. I'm going to tell them you're awake."
When he left, I noticed the pen on the side table. It hadn't been there before.
Chris hadn't. I glanced down at my cast and realized he had.
Underneath the previous message he'd written he wrote 'I love Damien's hot kisses.'
I was going to kill him.
As soon as I got a chance I was going to get a big black marker and write over it with a black line. I was mortified and I felt the telltale heat in my cheeks—I was blushing. I was careful to keep my cast away from Damien when he returned a little while later. It would be so embarrassing if he saw the messages that my so-called best friend had written.
The nurse appeared with my dinner and I began to eat.
At least with my stab wound healing I was more mobile, and I insisted on going for a shower before I went to bed. Damien, being his usual overprotective self, stayed outside the bathroom door the entire time. He was so scared that I'd fall or accidentally hurt myself.
After my shower, he helped me back to the bed. It was then, as we stood by the bed, that he glanced down at my cast and read the messages.
"Chris?" he asked with a smirk on his face, pointing to the penned messages on my cast.
"Who else," I replied, feeling the heat in my cheeks again. It was mortifying.
"So my kisses are hot?" he asked with a teasing tone. He was enjoying every second of my embarrassment.
I glared at him and he just laughed.
"Those were Chris' words, not mine," I replied as I got back into the hospital bed with his help.
"So you don't think my kisses are hot?" he asked, his eyes darkening as he held my gaze.
"Your kisses were okay," I lied, because they were totally hot. I didn't need to feed his ego, even though my toes curled at the memory.
"Just okay?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. The playful tone was gone.
"I don't want to discuss it," I told him, trying to steer the conversation away from the current topic.
"Well, I do," he said as he stood with his arms crossed over his chest. Was it an ego thing? Why wouldn't he just let the subject slide?
He got a dangerous glint in his eye and he stepped closer. Before I could utter anything, his lips covered mine. Any coherent thought disappeared and all I could concentrate on was his lips against mine. I groaned and my lips opened slightly. His tongue swept into my mouth. I grabbed for his shirt as his tongue touched mine. It was so hot.
Then he was gone. I looked at him, confused, as he stood a few feet away from me with a smirk on his face.
"So that was just 'okay'?" he asked smugly. He'd done it on purpose just to prove a point.
"It was fine," I said breathlessly, underplaying the truth. I put a hand to my chest to slow down my heart that was beating rapidly.
"Just fine?" he asked as he stepped closer.
"It was hot," I finally admitted as I held my hands up, stopping him from trying to prove that his kisses were as hot as he said.
"I thought so," he smirked.
That night I didn't sleep well again. This time I was worried about leaving the hospital. For the few days I'd been here I'd felt safe and the idea of having to leave that safety scared me. I knew logically that I'd be safe in my new home with the Knights, but I couldn't help the fear of the unknown that kept me awake and studying the ceiling.
Beside me Damien slept in the chair, his arms folded and his legs stretched out in front of him. He was complicated. I couldn't understand why he was unable to commit. There had to be a reason why. Despite the fact that he wanted me and I wanted him, we were at a stalemate. He was unable to give me the commitment I needed and I was unable to just be the girl of the moment for him.
He made me feel things I'd never felt before and I couldn't deny that I liked the way he made me feel. Another thought popped up in my mind—I knew it was inevitable, given his reputation: soon I would have to watch him with other girls and I knew I wasn't ready to see that. I pushed all thoughts of Damien out of my mind, unable to deal with the pain they brought me.
Tomorrow the doctor was going to discharge me and I'd be going to live with the Knights. I couldn't help the nervous knot that formed in my stomach. I was one of those pessimistic people that thought about all the things that could go wrong. What if they changed their mind after a while? I was pretty screwed up, and what if I was too much to handle?
Damien was with me all of the time, I knew I would have to start to develop some independence and start to do things on my own, but that would take time. I couldn't expect Damien to keep doing what he was, it wasn't fair. He never complained. He still felt responsible about what happened to me and it was probably the guilt that kept him glued to my side.
I knew what I wanted to accomplish, but I had no idea how. I wanted to be able to be independent and do things on my own, but the fear that I felt kept me from taking those steps. I considered what the social worker had suggested. Maybe going to see a therapist might help me build up the courage to be able to be my own person and not to lean on Damien or his family too much.
Sometime after two in the morning I finally fell asleep.
The next morning was a flurry of activity as the doctor discharged me. He'd offered to prescribe me pain medication but I'd declined. Damien packed up my stuff for me as I fidgeted nervously, waiting for his parents to arrive.
"Don't be ne
rvous," Damien said with an encouraging smile as he zipped my bag closed. "Everything will be okay."
"I know, I just can't help feeling anxious."
Twenty minutes later, the Knights arrived to take me to their home—my new home.
Amy and Steven were casually dressed, which meant they'd likely taken the day off work to help me settle in. Damien and Steven took my bags to the car and Amy walked beside me as the nurse wheeled me to the hospital entrance in a wheelchair.
Outside, the sun was shining brightly. It was a beautiful day but it did nothing to help the building anxious feeling in my stomach.
Amy held my elbow as I stood up. As we walked out of the hospital I saw a luxurious red car parked in the front. Damien was standing beside it. Amy steered me toward the car and Damien helped me in, and then closed the door. He jogged around the back, opened the door and slid in beside me.
The car smelled new, and there was a distinct scent of leather. I'd never been in a car this nice.
Nervously, I clutched my hands together and kept my gaze on the scenery as we pulled away from the hospital that had been my sanctuary up to now. I felt Damien's eyes firmly on me the entire journey to their house.
We drove into a nice, well-off neighborhood that had huge houses and well-kept gardens. I was in awe. I'd never seen houses as big as these. Some of them looked like fortresses with high walls to protect their privacy.
Even though Damien had told me his parents were loaded, I was open-mouthed shocked when the car pulled up into their driveway. The outside walls were high, but I could see a massive house that looked like a mansion inside. A black gate swung open and we drove up the driveway.
My mouth was still slightly open as I got out of the car once it pulled up in front of the house. It was so much to take in.
Damien took my bag as Amy ushered me into the house.
"I can't wait for you to see your room," she exclaimed as we entered the house.
The reception area was huge. Amy didn't give me a chance to look around before she steered me up the stairs to the first level.
"This side has Damien's room and yours," she explained as she indicated to the left of the stairs. Damien's room was close to mine. I wasn't sure how I felt about it. On one hand, I felt safer with him around, but on the other hand it was going to be difficult to be near him all the time.
"On the other side is a guest bedroom and a game lounge," she explained. A game lounge sounded interesting.
The house was beautifully decorated with large, flowing curtains and beautifully crafted furniture and ornaments. I wondered if Amy had done her own decorating or if she'd paid someone to do it.
Her excitement built and her smile grew as I followed her down the hallway. She stopped in front of a set of double wooden doors.
"I hope you like it," she said as she grinned from ear to ear.
She opened the doors and I saw my room for the first time.
It was beautiful.
The room was massive. It was probably the size of two standard bedrooms. In the middle of the room was a huge oak-wood bed. The bedding was a pale baby pink color with scattered lilac cushions.
To the side of the bed were a couple of sofas almost side by side that faced a flat-screen TV with a small coffee table in between. On the other side of the bed was a table and chair with a laptop. Beside the table was a walk-in closet.
"I bought you some clothes, but when you're feeling up to it I want to take you shopping," she told me as I peered in the closet.
"You don't have to," I said, seeing that there were more than enough clothes. I didn't need any more.
"I want to," she insisted, grasping both of my hands in hers.
My room was beautiful. I felt the sting of tears as emotion clogged my throat. I'd never owned much, so things had never meant a great deal to me, but I would be lying if I didn't admit that I was touched that Amy had done so much for me.
"Thank you," I managed to whisper to her when I turned to face her.
"You're welcome," she replied as she gave me a brief hug. I hugged her back. Slowly but surely, she was winning my trust.
"Let's go take a look at your bathroom," she suggested. I couldn't believe it—I had my own bathroom?
A door adjoining my bedroom opened up and I followed Amy into the bathroom. There was a corner bath and shower next to it. The towels and bath mat were the same baby pink as the bedcovers.
I was speechless. I wasn't sure if I would ever feel completely comfortable with all of this. Damien was placing my bags next to the bed when we stepped back into my room.
"I'm going to give you a chance to settle in," she told me as she followed Damien out of my room and left me alone.
I sat down on my bed and looked around my new room.
This would take some getting used to.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Haven
I was still sitting on the bed ten minutes later, still a little shell-shocked, when there was a soft knock against the door.
"Come in," I said. I remained sitting on my bed, still trying to take everything in.
Damien stepped into my room.
"So what do you think?" he said when he sat down on my bed beside me.
"I'm a little overwhelmed," I admitted, flickering my gaze to the flat-screen TV and the laptop.
"You’ll get used to it," he assured me, but I wasn’t convinced.
"They bought me a laptop. I haven't even figured out how to use my new phone properly," I explained, indicating the laptop on the desk. I felt like such a failure.
"Don't worry about small things like that," he told me. "I'll teach you."
He'd already done so much for me.
"What do you want to do today?" he asked.
I wasn’t sure, but when my eyes swept around my room and settled on the TV I knew what I wanted to do.
"I want to watch a movie."
If I were anyone else, it would be a normal to sit and watch a movie and eat popcorn, but I was anything but 'normal.' I couldn't remember the last time I'd done either of those things.
"You have a look through the DVDs and I'll go and make the popcorn," Damien suggested as he left my room.
Inside the cabinet below the TV I found a whole bunch of DVDs. I sat cross-legged in front of the cabinet and looked through the titles, but I had no clue what any of them were about. There were a couple of titles that I'd remembered hearing about from other people, but I'd never watched any of them.
When Damien returned with two sodas and two bowls filled with popcorn, I still hadn't decided on a movie to watch.
"Too many choices?" he asked, when he saw I still hadn't picked one.
"Something like that," I muttered, feeling self conscious.
He set the popcorn and sodas down on the coffee table and bent down in front of the cabinet beside me. His finger trailed over the spines of the DVDs until he selected one.
"How about Pretty Woman?" he asked.
"Okay."
I had no idea what it was about. I wasn't even entirely sure what I liked. He took the DVD out of the box and slipped it into the DVD player while I sat down on the one sofa with my feet tucked underneath me. Instead of sitting on the other sofa, he sat down next to me and handed me my popcorn and soda.
"Thank you," I said. I set my soda back on the coffee table in front of me.
He pushed a couple of buttons on a remote, and the movie started.
I munched on the popcorn with my eyes glued to the TV. I was hyperaware of every movement Damien made beside me and no matter how hard I tried to ignore him, I failed.
While we watched the movie, I couldn't help but root for a happy ending between the two main characters. The whole story line was so unrealistic, it was laughable. There was no way a rich, good-looking guy goes looking for a hooker and ends up falling in love with her. Even though the plot was unbelievable, I was on the edge of my seat, nearly biting my nails, hoping he'd come back and sweep her off her feet.
And when he did I sighed with contentment and settled back to watch. I felt Damien's eyes on me but I ignored him as I popped some more popcorn into my mouth. By the time the credits began to slide up the screen I set my bowl of popcorn down onto the table.
"Have you ever watched it before?" he asked quietly. I shook my head. There was no point in lying about it.
"Why?" he prodded further when I didn't elaborate. He set his empty bowl on the coffee table as he turned to face me.
I released a sigh. He wasn't going to let it go.
"It's the first movie I've watched in seven years," I explained, and then I waited for the disbelief. His eyes widened with surprise.
"No movies in seven years," he repeated softly. He stared at me, trying to comprehend what I'd just told him.
"What about TV?" he asked after a little silence.
I shook my head. I felt like a freak. Most of the things my peers took for granted, I'd gone without. All of this stuff was new to me.
"I'm sorry," he said softly.
"It's fine, it's just movies and TV," I said with a shrug.
"It's not just movies and TV you went without," he stated softly. He knew how badly I'd been treated. A heavily emotional silence descended as I averted my gaze from his. I didn't want his pity.
"I'll make sure you make up for everything you missed out on," he insisted, sitting forward.
My gaze met his. He smiled at me, his somber expression gone.
I nodded my head at him. "I'd like that."
"Come on, let me give you a tour of the house," he offered as he pulled me to my feet.
"Sure," I replied. This house was so big that I might need a map, not just a tour.
I followed Damien out of my room.
"That's my room," he indicated the room across the hall from mine. The doors to his room were open, so I got a glimpse of his room. It was messy, but I could see that he had a bed similar in size to mine with a dark-blue bed cover.
