Damaged

by Nina D'Angelo

  Forcing herself to remain calm, she took a deep breath. After facing Detective Foley, she’d gone for a walk, wanting some time to think. The fresh air had invigorated her, and allowed her to collect her thoughts.

  Walking back to her Jeep, she’d been about to climb into the driver’s seat when she’d seen the sterling silver rose sitting on the windscreen. Frozen, she’d stared at it, her heartbeat racing wildly, terror washing over her. Slowly, she’d looked around, searching for anything–any sign that he was back.

  She curled her hand into a fist, digging her fingernails into her palm. She needed to remember his face. Even thought she’d been face to face with Katrina’s killer, she couldn’t remember him. He was like a murky memory lodged in her brain. The doctors and psychologists told her that she had suppressed the memory; the terror from that night had forced her to block his face from her mind. The LAPD had pushed for her to undergo hypnosis and she’d agreed, despite her fears of what she would discover, but the hypnosis had been a disaster and she’d become so traumatized during the session that her psychologist had stopped and refused to let her continue.

  All she remembered from that night were his eyes. Someone had once told her that the eyes were the window to the soul. If this were true, then Katrina’s killer had been completely soulless. She shuddered as she remembered them; they had been flat, almost dead. She would never forget them.

  His face was a different story. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t remember what he looked like. In her nightmares, he was nothing more than a shadowy specter chasing her, reaching out and screaming her name with fury.

  He was watching her again. No one else sent her sterling silver roses; no one but him. It was how he’d started stalking her. First with the sterling silver roses, and then the little love notes before he’d escalated to much worse.

  Squeezing her eyes shut, she dug her fingernails deeper into her palm, the pain calming her. Her eyes flew open when a hand touched her shoulder, startling her out of her reverie.

  DOMINIC TURNED HIS head from where the pretty blonde, perched on the barstool, flirted openly with him. He smiled, well aware of her open invitation. She’d made it clear by the way she kept touching him and leaning forward that she wouldn’t object to his taking her home. He shook his head in amusement. A month ago, he’d have taken her up on her invitation and not thought twice about it. A month ago, he wouldn’t have given a damn about what people thought of him, or cared that he had a girlfriend—if he could even call Sandra that.

  But that was before Stephanie. He scanned the busy Friday night crowd, his smile widening when he spotted Stephanie walking into the bar. God, she was beautiful. Every time he looked at her, she took his breath away. He’d never known a woman to affect him the way she did, and in such a short time as well.

  Turning his head back to the blonde, he smiled ruefully. Before Stephanie, he would have taken her home and enjoyed the meaningless sex. Now, all he could think about was the woman walking across the room. He didn’t want anyone else. He wanted her. Not just in his bed, but in his life. He wanted to know her. He wanted to know why she didn’t sleep at night. He wanted to know why she tossed the yellow skittles out and always ate the red ones first. He wanted to wake up next to her each morning, and he wanted her face to be the last thing he saw before he went to sleep at night. He wanted more than friendship.

  Casting his glance back at Stephanie, he was surprised to see that she’d stopped in the middle of the room. His breath caught in his throat when he saw her expression. She looked so completely lost and alone. All he could think about was wrapping her up in his arms. He tapped Jax on the shoulder, signaling over the loud music that he was taking a break, before walking out from behind the bar and heading towards Stephanie.

  As he drew closer, he took her in. She stood with her eyes closed, her hands clenched into fists. Reaching her, he touched her shoulder, surprised to find her cold despite the hot summer’s night.

  Her eyes flew open, and her startled gaze clashed with his. He bit out an oath when she began to shake visibly, and he drew her into his embrace. She buried her face in his T-shirt, her arms automatically wrapping around his waist and squeezing him tightly. He pressed his lips to the top of her head, simply holding her as she fought to regain control, and he forced down the urge to ask what was wrong, afraid to break this precious moment between them.

  Stephanie rested her cheek against Dominic’s chest, inhaling his spicy aftershave and his clean male scent. She hadn’t even known where she was going when she’d headed here tonight. She’d found the sterling silver rose, then driven around aimlessly before heading towards the Los Angeles Times Building. Usually, when she was struggling with her emotions and she felt as if she were unraveling, she could head there and lose herself in work, but tonight it hadn’t worked. Tonight she’d needed Dominic. Instead of going over to Ben’s, she was here at Outlaws. Instead of having her boyfriend console her, she was here in Dominic’s arms. And she’d never felt safer.

  Deep in her heart, she knew she was playing a dangerous game; one in which so many people risked getting hurt, but she didn’t care. All she cared about was the man holding her. Nothing could feel more perfect than being in his arms right now.

  Dominic slid his hand into Stephanie’s hair, absentmindedly running his fingers through it. Gently, he drew her back from him, his face softening when he saw her tears. He brushed his knuckles against her cheek, his expression tender. “Now that’s a sight I never thought I’d ever see. Stephanie Carovella crying.”

  She laughed in embarrassment as she dropped her arms from around his waist, then stepped back and quickly wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall apart on you, Dominic. It’s just been one hell of a day.”

  Dominic grabbed her hand in his own, turning it over to place a kiss on her palm. He froze at the sight of the bloody, half-moon nail-shaped indentions evident on her skin. “What the hell?” he muttered. “Stephanie, what the hell did you do to your palms?”

  “It’s nothing,” she said dismissively, removing her hand from his.

  “Like hell it’s nothing,” he growled, grabbing her hands and flipping them over so he could study her palms. “Why the hell would you do this to yourself?”

  “Dominic, please, just drop it,” she said, her voice husky with emotion. “I don’t want to discuss it.”

  Dominic fell silent, unable to tear his gaze from the welted marks on her skin. He instinctively knew that this wasn’t the first time she’d marked herself. “Stephanie, talk to me,” he begged, taking her hand more firmly and leading her away.

  He guided her to the corner table, and she raised an eyebrow when she saw the reserved sign. A reserved sign especially for her. A rush of pleasure flooded through her, and she had the sudden urge to kiss him. Squelching the feeling deep inside, she slid into the corner couch, surprised when Dominic slid in next to her instead of sitting on the opposite side.

  Dominic slid his arm around Stephanie’s shoulders, and drew her closer to the length of his body as he lifted her hand up to study it. “Damn it, Stephanie,” he whispered, shaking his head and pinning her down with his emerald gaze. “Tell me, what on earth would make you do this to yourself? It’s got to hurt like hell.”

  Stephanie withdrew her hand from his and reached for the wine list sitting in the middle of the table, flipping it over and pretending to study it closely.

  “I’m not leaving until you tell me,” Dominic said, smiling at her. He reached out, curled his finger around the edge of her hair, and tugged gently. “You can pretend to study the wine list all night, but you’re going to tell me why you did this to yourself.”

  Stephanie closed her eyes, suddenly angry. Ben would never push her like this. He would accept that she didn’t want to talk about it and let it go, but Dominic wasn’t going to. He was going to push and push until he broke through every wall of defense she had wrapped around her. It was why he was so dangerous. It was why she had told he
rself to stay away.

  Opening her eyes, she hissed, “I don’t need this. I don’t need you lecturing me on my life, or asking questions. I owe you nothing.”

  Attempting to get past him, she scowled when he blocked her from leaving. “Let me pass,” she said angrily, her amber eyes reflecting her fury.

  “No,” he said calmly. “Not until you tell me what’s going on in that head of yours. Why the hell would you want to hurt yourself like this?” To prove his point, he grabbed her hand and thrust her palm inches from her face. “Why, Stephanie? Tell me why, and I’ll let you go.”

  “Go to hell,” she spat, her face a mixture of pain and frustration before she carefully masked her emotions.

  “Oh no you don’t, sweetheart. I’m not letting you hide how you’re feeling,” Dominic growled, sliding his hand around her neck and drawing her close to him. Before she could respond, his mouth closed over hers for a hard kiss.

  She pushed against him, bringing her hands up onto his chest in anger, but Dominic ignored the fists pounding against his chest and kissed her thoroughly. He lifted his head briefly to study her bruised lips, and her eyes that glistened with tears. His own expression hooded, he dipped his head again, this time to capture her mouth gently with his own. His groan was strained as he sought entrance to her mouth, his tongue touching hers playfully.

  Stephanie’s hands uncurled, and she flattened them against his chest before they slid up to his shoulders and circled his neck. In frustration, she pressed closer, wanting to touch more of him. Dominic slid his arm around her waist and lifted her up onto his lap without breaking the kiss. He tore his mouth off hers, his chest rising and falling heavily, his breath harsh. Looking at Stephanie, he smiled in satisfaction; she was equally affected from their kiss.

  “You shouldn’t kiss me like that,” she whispered, reaching out to wipe her pink lip-gloss from his mouth. He captured her hand in his own, pressing a moist kiss against the palm before he studied the indentions.

  “Tell me why,” he demanded again, his voice low.

  She closed her eyes, her breathing ragged. She contemplated lying to him, but she couldn’t. She didn’t understand why, but she didn’t want to lie to Dominic. She wanted to tell him everything about herself, including who she was. She didn’t want to hide from him.

  Slowly opening her eyes, she whispered, “Control.”

  “Control?” he asked, confusion clouding his face. “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s about control,” she said, her voice husky with emotion. “When I feel like I’m losing control, and I’m unable to hide my real emotions, I use pain to bring myself back to reality.”

  “Why is control so important to you?” he asked quietly, watching as she slid off his lap and back onto the seat beside him.

  “It just is,” she said, her expression neutral. She gave him a careless shrug. “It’s my way of protecting myself.”

  ‘From what?”

  “From anything and everything,” she said, shrugging again. “I know you want to believe that the world is a shiny, happy place, Dominic, but it’s not. There are things that go bump in the night, and there are monsters under the bed. I learned at a young age that control is the key. The more in control of your emotions you are, the better you are at hiding them.”

  “Stephanie, you don’t need to hide your emotions. Not from me,” he said softly, reaching out to lace his fingers through hers. “You never have to hide them from me.”

  “Dominic, don’t you realize you’re the one person I especially need to hide my emotions from?” she whispered, removing her hand from his. “And you’re the one person I don’t want to hide them from.” Wrapping her arms around herself, she said quietly, “You make it so easy to believe that love can make the world go round, and that happily ever after can exist for me. You make me want to grab onto everything you have to offer and never let go.”

  “Would that be so bad?”

  Stephanie smiled bitterly, looking straight ahead. “In my world, Dominic, happily ever after doesn’t exist. What exists is pain and heartbreak. I won’t put you through that. I can’t put you through that. Don’t ask me to.” Turning to him, she linked her arm with his and rested her head against his shoulder. “Please, can you just be my friend for now?”

  Dominic nodded, resting his head against hers. “Stephanie, sooner or later you’re going to have to accept we’re more than just friends. You’re going to have to stop pretending this isn’t heading where we’re heading.”

  “Dom—”

  “I’ll just be your friend,” he interrupted, his gaze meeting hers and holding it steadily, “for now, but sooner or later you’re going to have to make a choice. You either want to explore what’s happening between us, or you don’t. If you don’t, I’ll walk away. It will be with regret, but I’ll let you go.”

  She swallowed hard at the idea of Dominic walking away and closed her eyes, surprised at the hollow emptiness she felt inside at the thought of not having him in her life. She opened her eyes slowly when he cupped her chin in his hand and forced her to meet her gaze. “But babe, if you decide to take a chance on me—on us—I promise I will never break your heart, and I will never let you go.”

  STEPHANIE TAPPED HER foot impatiently, glancing at her watch for the fifth time. Turning her head to stare moodily at the traffic congesting on Sunset Boulevard, she drew out a shaky breath.

  Dominic wanted more than she was willing to give. He wanted a relationship with her; a real relationship, not like the one she had with Ben. He wanted a relationship where they would be open and honest with each other. He would expect more from her than she had ever given to anyone.

  Rubbing her fingers against her forehead wearily, she admitted to herself that she didn’t know what to do anymore. Part of her wanted to keep pretending that Dominic was just her friend. She wanted to pretend there wasn’t anything stronger between them, but she knew deep down that she was only lying to herself. And she was so damn tired of all her secrets and lies! For the first time in her life, she wanted to let someone in. She wanted to rest her head on Dominic’s shoulder and confess her darkest sins, and know he would still care about her.

  She cursed softly, picking up her coffee mug and taking a sip. Wrinkling her nose when she realized her drink was tepid, she placed the mug back onto the table, pushing it away from her. Her fears of Dominic’s rejection told her she was already in too deep where he was concerned.

  She jumped when a hand touched her shoulder, and she spun around in her chair, her heart pounding rapidly. She placed her hand on her chest, then took a deep breath and murmured, “Cassandra, you scared me.”

  Cassandra Carrington smiled in cool amusement as she slid into the chair opposite Stephanie. “I didn’t think anything could scare you, Carovella. You’re indestructible.”

  “It’s good to see you,” Stephanie said, reaching her hand across the table and linking her fingers with the woman opposite her. She squeezed gently, her smile falling away and her expression darkening with anguish. “I could use a friend right now.”

  Cassandra squeezed Stephanie’s hand back, staring at the woman she’d met in Bangkok. She’d been bloodied, bruised and desperately in need of a place to hide, and by some small miracle, she’d found Stephanie. Without a single word, Stephanie had taken her in. The Bangkok police had banged on every hotel room door, determined to find her, but Stephanie had kept her hidden.

  She’d stayed with Stephanie for five days, and in that time, not once did Stephanie question why the Bangkok police were hunting her down. Cassandra kept waiting for her to ask, but she never did. Finally, she’d asked Stephanie why she hadn’t. She’d never forgotten Stephanie’s answer.

  She had told her that everyone had his or her own secrets and burdens to bear. She figured this was one secret Cassandra wanted to keep to herself, and she was okay with that.

  Cassandra had studied the woman in front of her, seeing for the first time the pain in her eyes, and
then she’d understood. Stephanie had her own secrets.

  Staring at the woman sitting across the table opposite her, she squeezed her hand again and smiled. Stephanie could hardly sit still. She’d never seen her so fidgety before. She arched an eyebrow, her voice gentle, “What’s got you so wound up?”

  Narrowing her eyes when Stephanie’s phone vibrated, she grabbed it off the table before Stephanie could reach for it, glancing at the name of the person who’d sent the text message.

  “Well, this is interesting. Who’s Dominic?”

  Stephanie leaned over and took the phone out of Cassandra’s hand, glaring at her. "He’s a friend.”

  Cassandra grinned at Stephanie, then leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. She hooked her left foot around her right one as she drawled, “Uh-huh, a friend. Right.”

  When Stephanie blew out a frustrated sigh, she began to laugh quietly. “Oh my, I know that look. You’ve met a guy.”

  “No, Cassandra, I’ve met the guy,” Stephanie whispered, turning her head back towards the strip. “I don’t know what to do.”

  Cassandra studied the redhead in front of her. She’d known Stephanie for three years, and she was always in control. The only time she’d let anyone see her vulnerability was the night she’d been attacked. Cassandra scowled in annoyance. She’d been in Milan on a job when she’d heard the news that Stephanie’s roommate, Katrina, had been murdered, and the rumor that Stephanie had been the intended victim. She’d finished her contract and jumped on the first plane back to LA, determined to be there for the woman she considered her best friend.

  Stephanie had been surprised to see her. She hadn’t wanted anyone to see her in pain. She’d put her walls up for everyone, but Cassandra. Cassandra knew who Stephanie really was, and what had happened to her. After she’d left Bangkok, she’d been curious about the woman who hadn’t asked her any questions. She knew that only someone who was hiding from something—or someone—would accept her at face value.