Part Twelve
The truth will set you free …
Damion and I spend every second of every day we possibly can together during the next week. The charity fund-raising poker tournament finally arrives and is a huge success. We close the day with a two-hundred-thousand-dollar take home, and neither of us can wait to tell Dehlia. Damion calls her and invites her to dinner, then we head to his room—which has really become my room, too—to shower and change out of our work clothes.
I head to the fridge of his full kitchen and grab a soda. “Can I ask you something?”
He leans on the bar across from me. “Since when do you ask if you can ask anything?”
“I know this event raised a lot of money, but it can’t be enough to support the shelter. It’s a huge facility, and Dehlia has a staff.”
“I told you,” he says shortly. “I took care of it.” He turns and walks away, and I blink after him, shell-shocked at his sharpness.
I set the soda down and follow him, finding him on the patio. I take one look at the way he’s leaning his hands on the wall, chin tucked to his chest, and I go to him.
Gingerly, I settle my hand on his back. “Hey.”
He lifts his head and looks at me, storm clouds overtaking the green of his eyes. “I need to tell you something.”
“Okay,” I say cautiously.
He pushes off the wall and scrubs his jaw. “You know how I said I handled the mob here at the casino?”
Mob? Are we really talking about the mob? “Yes.”
“There’s a guy I know from the shelter. He was there the day my mother died. He’s high up in the mob in Vegas now. I used my connection to him to get the mob out of the casino.”
“That’s good, right?”
“I also used his love for Dehlia to get the facility funded. He donates a ridiculous amount of money every year. Blood money—I know it is. But, damn it, he’s doing one thing in his life right. One thing.”
“I’m … confused about how I feel about it.”
“That makes two of us.”
I wrap my arms around his neck. “Then we’ll be confused together.” And I dare to take a risk. “Damion. I—”
His phone rings, and he kisses me. “Hold that thought.” He sighs. “Terrance. Things are heating up with the investigation on the breach of security.”
He takes the call and my moment is lost, but I vow to get it back.
* * *
Thanksgiving eve morning, I greet Dana—who has long since figured out that Damion and I are seeing each other—with a smile. “Where’s Mr. Ward?” she asks, glancing around the corner, still just as nervous with him as ever.
“In a meeting. Relax. It’s a half day. You probably won’t see him at all.”
She sighs. “Oh, good.” Then looks guilty. “I really can’t say that to you anymore, can I?”
“Of course you can. He’s still intense.”
She laughs, and I head to my desk to work through a stack of reports Damion has me compiling on the different properties. Come noon, I haven’t heard from him, and I dial Maggie to see what time she’s heading to the shelter tomorrow, but I get her voice mail.
Another hour later, Dana and I wish each other a happy holiday. As I step onto the elevator to head to HR, I think of how much I like Dana. It was incredibly kind of her to want to find Natalie’s pictures for her. Sadly, though, Natalie never deserved Dana’s concern.
I’m stepping off the elevator when my cell rings, and it’s Damion. “This security thing is blowing up. The ringleader of the security breaches was a management-level employee at one of the other properties. A dozen employees have been arrested for a plot to steal from the casino, including Natalie.” He hesitates.
“What? What aren’t you saying?”
“Maggie is one of them.”
I stop walking and lean against the wall. “Oh, God. No. Damion. I’m sorry.”
“Money makes people crazy.”
I think of the woman who bribed him, of how that must live in his mind. “I don’t want your money. You know that, right?”
“Kali, baby, you’re the one thing I’m sure of, and that’s good right now. It’s really good.”
“Damion, I … I …”
“Me, too. Me, too. We’ll translate that later.”
I smile sadly, because I know how much he’s hurting. “Sooner rather than later. Can I come to you?”
“No. I don’t want you in this. I’ll call you later and then I just want to lock ourselves away and forget this shit for the rest of the night.”
“Yes. I’ll be here. Call me.”
* * *
At nearly seven o’clock, Damion has checked in with me several times but doesn’t seem close to being home. Home, I think, looking around his suite. I wonder if we shouldn’t get a real home. He’s never had that. Ever. I want him to have that.
Another hour passes, and when my cell rings this time, it’s Terrance. “We need to talk.”
My gut knots. “Why don’t I like how that sounds?”
“Heads up: Natalie told Damion that you were in this, too, and that you were going to write a tell-all piece and expose him for what he is.”
“Oh, God. No. It’s a lie.”
“I believe you, and I think he does, too, but he’s had a hell of a day.”
I remember him grabbing my hand and telling me no recordings. He’s going to be suspicious. People have lied to him. I’ve been lied to. I know what that feels like.
“Kali, are you there?”
“Where is he?”
“He left the police station about an hour ago.”
“I have to go.” I hang up and dial Damion. He doesn’t answer. I race for a drawer and rip away my robe and shove on jeans and a tank top, slide on my Keds. I don’t have a car, since I let go of my rental, so I decide to take a cab. I race for the door and stop. Where the heck am I even going? He isn’t at the police station. I dial Dehlia to discover he’s not at the shelter, either.
The door buzzes and opens, and a weary Damion appears, dropping his briefcase on the floor. I launch myself at him and throw my arms around his neck. “I would never write a tell-all about you. I told her I’d investigate before I met you, when she told me a horror story. The minute I met you I knew she was lying. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. And I love you. And I think we should get a house that is a home and get away from work all the time. And—”
He wraps his arm around me and kisses me. “I didn’t believe her.”
“You didn’t?”
“No. I told you. I’m sure of you. Of us, Kali. I love you, too.”
My heart warms. “You do?”
“Yes. I do. And we’ll get a real home on one condition.”
“Condition?”
“That you marry me. Be my wife, and neither of us will ever be alone again.”
My heart swells. “I would be honored to be your wife.”
He scoops me up and carries me to the bed, settles me on the mattress, and then braces his elbows above me. “Happy Thanksgiving, Kali.”
“Happy Thanksgiving, Damion.”
PHOTO: © DIEGO HARRISON
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author LISA RENEE JONES is the author of the highly acclaimed Inside Out Trilogy, which has been sold to more than twelve countries for translation, with negotiations in process for more; it has now been optioned by STARZ Network for a cable television show, to be produced by Suzanne Todd (Alice in Wonderland).
Since beginning her writing career in 2007, Lisa has published more than thirty books, with publishers such as Simon & Schuster, Avon, Kensington, Harlequin, NAL, Berkley, and Ellora’s Cave, as well as crafted a successful indie career. Booklist says that Jones’s suspense truly sizzles with an energy similar to FBI tales with a paranormal twist by Julie Garwood or Suzanne Brockmann.
Prior to publishing, Lisa owned a multi-state staffing agency that was recognized many times by the Austin Business Journal and also praised
by Dallas Women Magazine. In 1998 LRJ was listed as the number-seven growing women-owned business in Entrepreneur magazine.
Lisa loves to hear from her readers. You can reach her through her website, and she is active on Twitter and Facebook daily.
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