Damaged

by Nina D'Angelo

  Dominic chuckled, tapping the newspaper he held against his thigh. “What can I say? I’m crazy about this girl who interns here. Hey, maybe you know her. She’s smart as a whip, and sexy as hell. The thing is, I can’t get her off my mind, and for the past three days she’s been avoiding me. A man has to go to drastic measures when the woman he's falling for doesn’t take his calls or respond to his texts.”

  Stephanie wrapped her arms around herself, feeling butterflies in her stomach at his admission. “You’re falling for me?”

  “You damn well know I am,” Dominic growled, reaching out and grabbing her hand. He brought it up to his mouth, brushing his lips against her knuckles. “The last few days have been hell. I broke up with Sandra, only to find you’d disappeared. Then you didn’t respond to my calls. I wasn’t sure whether I was coming or going. Hell, Stephanie, you made me think that you’d changed your mind about how you felt.”

  Stephanie blew out a frustrated sigh. “I’m sorry, Dom. I’m no good at this. I suck at relationships. I’ve never had one where I’ve given enough of a damn to think about the other person. This is new to me.”

  “Believe it or not, this is new for me too. I’ve never really done relationships, or at least, not serious ones. Sandra was the longest relationship I’d ever had, and that was three months. To be honest, I’m not renowned for my stellar track record.”

  Stephanie grinned at him, tilting her head to look at him. “Don’t look now, but I think we’re having the relationship discussion.”

  “Damn straight, we are,” Dominic growled, scowling at her. “You didn’t call me. For three days, you left me hanging. I didn’t like it.” His expression softened as he reached out to stroke her cheek. “Please, don’t ever do that to me again. You can be mad at me. You can yell, scream and throw things, but don’t shut me out like that.”

  “Okay,” she said softly, breathing deeply and leaning into his fingers. “I really am sorry, Dom. I meant to call you, but I needed time to work some things out. I also had an article to research and write for The Times, and two assignments due. On top of that, I’ve got an exam in a couple of weeks I haven’t even started prepping for.”

  “You’re not having doubts about us, then?” he asked, almost hesitantly.

  “God no,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist and squeezing tightly. “The past three days you’ve been all I’ve thought about, but I’ve needed to prioritize. I also needed to get my head around this thing between us. There are aspects of myself I’ve never shared with anyone, and for the first time in my life I want to. I’m just scared it will change how you feel about me.”

  “Never,” he admonished. Seeing her look of disbelief, he said quietly, “I’m in this for the long haul, Stephanie. Nothing could change how I feel about you. I know you’ve got issues. Hell, I’ve got issues of my own. Nothing you say or do is going to change my mind about us. Just don’t shut me out, ever again.”

  “Life’s kind of crazy right now,” she admitted. “I’ve wanted to spend time with you. It’s just . . .”

  “You have your own life,” he finished, gently, for her. Drawing her close to him, he took a deep breath, relief flooding through him. The last few days had been hell. He hadn’t known where he stood with her. No woman had ever made him feel this way. He’d never had to chase a woman before, or work so hard to try and convince one to date him.

  Pressing his forehead against Stephanie’s, he murmured, “I’ve missed you. I didn’t think it was even possible to miss someone I’ve only known for a short time, but I have. Outlaws hasn’t been the same without you for the past few days.”

  “I bet you’ve been a holy terror to deal with,” Stephanie teased, her lips curving into a mischievous smile.

  “This is where you're supposed to tell me that you’ve missed me, too,” Dominic growled teasingly, trailing his fingers down her spine. He chuckled when she shivered and moved closer into his embrace.

  “I’ve missed you,” she whispered. Sliding her arms from around his waist, she added softly, “I didn’t think I’d ever feel like this about anyone, let alone some stalker-type who shows up where I work, and who tried to pick me up in his own bar with some lame-ass line.”

  Dominic chuckled, lifting his forehead from hers. Reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, he asked, “Can you spend the day with me?”

  “I shouldn’t,” she began, a small smile creeping onto her lips. “But I want to. What did you have planned?”

  “I thought we could drive up to San Francisco. Are you game?” he asked, grinning when she nodded.

  Taking her hand, he led her to the passenger side of his Porsche and opened it up for her. She slid inside, and he closed the door before jogging around to the driver’s side. Sliding in, he twisted around in his seat to face her.

  “There’s something I forgot to do.”

  Stephanie gave him a questioning look, confusion sliding across her face. She gasped softly when he covered her mouth with his for a brief, hard kiss. She couldn’t prevent the sigh of disappointment that escaped her when he ended it.

  “Hi,” he whispered.

  “Hi,” she whispered back, losing herself in his emerald gaze.

  “Now we can go to San Francisco,” he murmured, gently brushing his mouth against hers again. He reached out to take her hand and intertwined his fingers with hers before he firmly placed her hand on his thigh.

  “What’s in San Francisco?” she asked, as he started the ignition.

  “I’m hoping a location for the second Outlaws. I’ve been looking to expand for a while, and narrowed it down to a few places, but nothing felt right. A friend of mine owns a bar up in San Francisco, and he’s looking to sell it. I’m hoping if the location’s right, I can renovate it and turn it into an Outlaws.”

  “You’re expanding,” she said softly.

  He nodded, unable to contain his excitement. When he grinned at her, she couldn’t resist returning it, swept up in his enthusiasm.

  “I want to expand Outlaws, and eventually have it in every American city. If that’s a success, then I’ll branch out internationally. I’m starting with San Francisco and San Antonio. For the past six months I’ve been scouting for locations,” Dominic said, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

  “You’ve always wanted to branch out?” Stephanie guessed, watching him nod.

  “Yes, the plan was always to open a bar here in LA and then expand. I’ve managed to raise the money to buy the first location.”

  “In San Francisco?”

  He nodded again, smiling briefly at her. “Once I find the perfect location, I’ll buy it and then look at investors to provide the start-up capital.”

  Stephanie leaned back in her seat, studying the man beside her. He was as passionate about Outlaws as she was about writing. It made her smile. In some ways, she and Dominic were perfectly suited. They both knew what they wanted out of life, and they weren’t afraid to get it. They'd both worked hard to achieve their successes, and they’d both played hard. She was well aware of his reputation, but it didn’t faze her. She didn’t have the best track record for relationships, either.

  Looking out the window, she took a deep breath. This relationship was different for both of them. For reasons of his own, he’d never had a serious relationship. Casting a glance at him, she acknowledged that in some ways, that made him just as broken as she was.

  Turning back to look at Dominic, she said, quietly, “Can we stop somewhere before we go?”

  He smiled gently at her. “Of course. Where do you want to go?”

  Stephanie took another deep breath. “Forest Lawn Cemetery. If we’re really going to do this, then there’s something I need to show you.”

  STEPHANIE HELD DOMINIC’S hand, silently leading him through Forest Lawn Cemetery. A battle of emotions raged inside of her. She didn’t know how much she was willing to share with Dominic, or how much she could tell him. She just hoped to hell she didn�
��t scare him away.

  Gripping the bouquet of roses in her other hand, she grimly stared straight ahead. No matter what, this was going to change her life forever. She knew that now more than anything.

  Dominic let Stephanie guide him through the cemetery, surprised that she’d brought him here. Glancing around, he couldn’t prevent the shudder that ripped through him. He hated places like this. They were dark, depressing, and they gave him the creeps. Resting his eyes on the woman in front of him, he grimaced when she dropped her hand from his and started to walk ahead of him.

  He knew why she’d brought him here. After that night at the bar, he’d done his research. He knew Stephen and Jennifer Carovella were buried at Forest Lawn. Joy filled him as he realized that she was once again letting him in, revealing to him another part of who she was.

  Stephanie dropped Dominic’s hand, walking ahead of him until she stood in front of her parents’ headstone. Dropping down to her knees, she gently untied the rose bouquet she’d brought with her, and placed it on her parents’ gravestone.

  Dominic stood silently behind her, watching her carefully clean away the debris around the headstones. He held out his hand when she began to rise to her feet, and she took it gratefully. Wrapping her arm around his waist, he turned his head to look at her and drew in a sharp breath, seeing her shattered expression.

  Stephanie swallowed hard, the grief overcoming her. No matter how many times she came here, no matter how many years it had been since her parents died, the impact of her loss always hit her as hard as it had the night they’d died.

  Shakily, she whispered, “Dominic, I brought you here because I need to tell you about my parents. I need you to know what happened that night.”

  “Stephanie,” he began, stopping when she shook her head vehemently.

  “No, let me tell you. I need to tell you. If you’re serious about me, if you’re serious about us, I need to tell you how they died. I need to tell you everything,” she said, stumbling over her words. “I need to prepare you.”

  “You need to prepare me?” he said slowly, unsure of what she was telling him.

  Stepping away from him, she turned back to her parents’ headstone. “My life has never been a bed of roses, Dom. I’ve seen things that are straight out of other people’s nightmares. I’ve survived two serial killers, and I’m still standing.” She cast her hand out to indicate to her parents’ graves. “But my parents aren’t, nor is Katrina. They died and I walked away both times with barely a scratch. No matter what, I always land on my feet and everyone else around me dies.”

  Turning her head to look at him, her eyes glistening with tears, she said bitterly, “I don’t want you to walk into this relationship blind. I’m damaged. I doubt I will ever be healed. Something inside me broke when my parents died, and I’m not sure it’s fixable.” Taking a deep breath, she added softly, “I’m not sure I want to fix it anymore.”

  Dominic took the few steps to where she was, sliding his hand into hers. “Tell me what happened to your parents,” he said quietly.

  Stephanie nodded, breathing deeply. Looking down at the ground, she said quietly, “First I need to tell you who they are.”

  “I know who they are,” Dominic confessed.

  Stephanie looked up swiftly, surprise on her face. “How?”

  “Sandra,” he began, shaking his head. “She’s a member of the LAPD.”

  “You dated a cop?” she asked in disgust, shaking her own head. “Let me guess, she told you every gritty, gory detail.”

  “No, Stephanie,” Dominic protested, gripping her hand tightly in his when she tried to break away from him. “She only told me to ask you about what happened. She was worried about us getting involved.”

  “As she damn well should be. Dominic, you don’t want to be a part of my life. I should have walked away from you the night you sat down at my table. I just couldn’t, and now it’s too late for both of us,” she said bitterly, brushing her tears away with the back of her hand.

  Jerking her hand out of his, she moved to sit down on a nearby headstone. “Did she tell you how they died?”

  “No,” he said, moving to sit down beside her.

  “I’m surprised you haven’t heard the story already anyway,” she murmured softly, refusing to look at him. “God knows the media loves to rehash it over and over again. That’s another thing you’ll have to get used to if we date, the constant intrusion of the media. I’m the original Hollywood wild-child, according to all the gossip sites. I do what I want, when I want, and to hell with the consequences. They’ve even picked up the moniker Gena gave me. They call me Hurricane Stephanie, did you know that?”

  Watching him nod his head, she snorted in disgust. “They love to follow my every movement. I’m entertainment to the masses, and they don’t give a damn how I feel about it all.”

  “Stephanie, I’m no stranger to the media myself, so if you think that’s going to scare me away, you’re wrong,” Dominic said, reaching out and tucking two fingers underneath her chin to lift her head. He met her gaze head on, smiling gently at her. “Nothing you’ve told me has scared me yet. Despite what you think, I don’t scare easily. Tell me what happened to your parents.”

  Stephanie cocked her head slightly, studying the man in front of her. When he returned her gaze unwaveringly, she nodded curtly.

  “I’m guessing you know my parents were kind of big in Hollywood,” she said with a careless shrug. “I was born and raised in Beverly Hills, and had a charmed life until I was eight. In some ways, I was a spoiled brat. My parents gave me what I wanted, whenever the hell I wanted it-except their time. Both of them were constantly working, so every second they shared with me was precious. I just didn’t realize it until the night they were murdered.”

  Dominic wrapped his arm around her shoulders, drawing her closer to him when he noticed her shaking. She gave him a tiny smile. “Did you know they were murdered?”

  He nodded. Clearing his throat, he said throatily, “The night Sandra and I broke up, I did an Internet search. I read how your parents died.”

  “Then you know how the LAPD found me?” she rasped.

  He nodded again, closing his eyes briefly. An image of an eight-year-old Stephanie filtered through his brain, and he shook the image away.

  “Here’s something you don’t know. The night my parents were murdered, it was my eighth birthday.”

  “Steph—”

  “The LAPD and FBI were so fucking clueless. They made assumptions about the killer, and because of that he got away.”

  “They never caught him?” he asked gently.

  “No, and they never will. He’s too damn smart for that,” she said, her expression grim. “He killed my parents on my eighth birthday, and nobody ever thought to wonder about the significance of the date. Instead, they focused on the idea that my parents were targeted because of their wealth.” She snorted indelicately. “It had nothing to do with money, and everything to do with who my parents were.”

  “You seem so certain.”

  “I am,” she said, scuffing her sneaker against the grass. “I don’t know how much you know, but my parents were murdered by a serial killer. They call him the Jesus Christ Killer. His modus operandi is pretty much self explanatory. He tortures his victims and makes them confess all their sins to them. He tells them if they repent, he’ll let them go, but then he kills them. He drives train spikes through their hands and feet, places a crown of barbed wire around their heads, and then positions them as he sees them. And here’s the kicker . . . he’s not picky. He doesn’t care if his victims are wealthy, poor or working class. He kills for completely different reasons.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Dominic breathed, whitening underneath his tan. “How do you know all of this?”

  “The night Katrina was murdered, FBI Agent Michael Simmons came to visit me. He wanted to know what I remembered the night my parents were murdered, and he decided to impart everything he knew about their killer to me.
The bastard didn’t give a damn I was bleeding, broken and battered. He hit me right where it hurt. He inflicted more damage onto me than I ever thought was possible, then he had the audacity to ask for my help.”

  Dominic swore, gripping her hand in his and bringing it onto his thigh. She gripped his hand back, giving him a ghost of a smile when she saw the fury blazing in his eyes.

  “How could someone do that? How could he tell you what happened to your parents after you’d survived such a brutal attack? Who the hell does that?”

  “Michael Simmons is exceptionally driven. He will stop at nothing to capture the Jesus Christ Killer, and he has no qualms about using me to do it. He wanted to use me as bait. He’d hoped that my attack would draw the Jesus Christ Killer out,” Stephanie said, her voice dripping with venom.

  “Why on earth would he think that your attack would draw him out?” Dominic asked in confusion.

  “Michael Simmons knows the Jesus Christ Killer inside out. He’s spent more than ten years chasing him. He’s read everything ever written about him, and he’s spent years trying to perfect a profile on him. He knows he doesn’t do anything without a reason, and I’m guessing he realized I was left alive for a purpose.”

  “I thought it was because he didn’t know you were in the house,” Dominic said slowly, his heart thundering in his chest as he waited for her answer.

  Stephanie twisted around on the headstone to look at him directly. “No, that’s what the FBI wanted the media to believe. Dominic, the night my parents were murdered, the Jesus Christ Killer knew I was in the house. He woke me up, and even helped me out of bed.”

  Closing her eyes, she said softly, “I remember there was a chill in the air, which was unusual for that time of year. I remember him wrapping me up in a warm blanket and carrying me downstairs. He was so gentle, and every one of his actions were of love. He told me that I had no reason to be scared, and that he wouldn’t hurt me.”