If Damián expected her to repay him with sex, he might as well stop being so kind to her. No way would he ever get her into his bed—well, not when he was in it, anyway—whether he thought she owed him sex or not.
* * *
Damián tucked the still-sleeping Marisol into his bed when they returned to the apartment after finding the all-night pharmacy to get Savi's pain prescription filled. He still hadn't managed to get her to take one of the damned pills, though. Stubborn girl. What was she afraid of—that he'd attack her while she slept? Why the hell had she come running to him if all she wanted to do since arriving on his doorstep was run away?
Damián ached to massage his stump. He hadn't expected it to be so raw from carrying Marisol. Of course, he'd carried Karla's bridal litter down the stairs at Marc's earlier today, too. Clearly getting out of shape. Maybe when he was working again he wouldn't sit around on his ass so much.
He walked back into the living room where Savi was seated at one end of the couch. No way was he going to remove his prosthesis while Savi was here. Okay, he may have to buy himself some private time at some point, or risk irritating it to the point of doing some serious damage. Right now, though, he was the one irritated. He sat down and glanced over at Savi, wedged into the corner of the couch, as far from him as she could get. Someone sure must have done a number on her since they'd first met as teenagers. She'd had no problem trusting him that day. He still remembered her lying beneath him, her head pillowed by his leather jacket, her body stretched out on a towel to protect her fair skin in the beach cave.
He hadn't been back there since he'd left for Fallujah. With his stump, he doubted he'd be able to take those stairs ever again, most definitely not with Savi in his arms. He remembered how he'd practically carried Savannah all the way to the cave that day, and how they'd spent the rest of the day having sex.
His dick grew hard just thinking about it. So he'd better start thinking about something else, or she really would think he was up to no good tonight. He looked at Savi's thin frame in the long-sleeved shirt. How much weight had she lost? She looked almost boyish. That someone could hit her the way that bastard had done more than pissed him off. If he ever got his hands on the shithead who'd done it…
Control yourself. Justice would come…later.
"How's your pain level?"
"Fine."
Doubtful. He could see the strain in her eyes. "What did the doctor say?"
She looked up at him, a quirk in her eyebrow. "About?"
"About how long it'll take your rib to heal."
"If it's fractured, six weeks. But I'm sure it's just a bruise. They'll take another x-ray on Wednesday."
"How do you plan to sleep if you don't take the pain meds?"
"I'll be fine."
She'd probably go to her zone and deny the presence of the pain. Been there, done that. "I'll prop up some blankets and extra pillows when you're ready to get into bed with Marisol."
The mention of her daughter—could she really be his daughter, too?—sent her gaze toward the bedroom. She seemed satisfied with what she saw and turned her attention to the bottle of water in her hand, studying the label intently. Her thumbnail dug at the paper as if she were picking a scab.
Damián need to know. "She's mine."
Savi looked up at him. He saw not only pain reflected in her eyes, but fear. She didn't fucking trust him.
"Why didn't you try to find me? Why didn't you tell me about Marisol?"
She sighed, but didn't relax one bit. He had to lean closer to hear her when she began to speak. "When I left my father's house, I was…a mess. Father Martine at San Miguel's helped and I was taken in by one of the parishioners there." She looked down at the bottle again and picked at it some more. "I was hospitalized for a while." Pick. "Anita, the woman who took me in, helped me a lot." Pick. Pick.
She paused and looked up at him. "After Marisol was born, I did try once to locate you, but you'd moved away from your apartment in Eden Gardens. I didn't realize you had lived there until later."
He couldn't believe she'd run to San Miguel's, just blocks from his old apartment. Maybe if he'd gone to church more, he'd have seen her. "I got evicted. Joined the Marines." She nodded and looked back down. "Why didn't you tell me about her last month when I was out there for Teresa?"
Savi stopped breathing for a long while, then swallowed and drew a shaky breath. Her voice was barely a whisper. "I was afraid you'd try to take her away from me. She's all I have. She gave me…a reason to live."
Sounded like she'd been about as far gone as he was after his foot had been blown off in Fallujah. His scars were more visible, but mental scars could be a lot more painful than any physical ones. They'd both been pulled back into life—Damián by Adam and Marc; Savi by Marisol and the folks at San Miguel's.
Now they'd found each other again. He didn't have a fucking clue what that was going to mean for him and Savi, but he did plan to be a part of Marisol's life.
Hell, in all honesty, he doubted he'd have been any help to her or Marisol while in Fallujah or even the next couple years that followed. He'd been too fucked up. At least she'd been able to keep their daughter and take care of her. She'd done a damned good job, too. That couldn't have been easy for someone so young.
"You're a great mom. I'd never do anything to come between you and Marisol." She looked up at him and he saw the relief in her sad, but beautiful, blue eyes. He still couldn't get used to her as a redhead. She'd been blonde in his dreams and fantasies—a helluva lot of fucking dreams over eight years.
Mi sueño. My dream.
Fuck that shit.
"But I'm her father and I'm going to be a part of her life now."
Savi remained still for a long while, then nodded. "Mari's always wanted a daddy."
Damián didn't want to think about any other men who might have tried to fulfill his obligations over the years. He hoped there hadn't been many—but if there had been, he'd sure as hell make sure Marisol knew who her real daddy was.
"I know she's calling me daddy already, but I want her to know it's more than wishful thinking, to know I'm not just a temporary daddy."
Savi winced as she leaned forward slightly, but pierced him with her gaze. "If you ever do anything inappropriate to her or hurt her in any way, I'll make sure you never touch anyone ever again."
Mierda.
Obviously, he had some work to do to win her trust. Nothing but time and a track record would achieve that. But he wanted her to know one thing going in. He leaned closer to her face to make sure she heard his deadly promise.
“If anyone ever touches either of you inappropriately, I’ll rip their fucking balls off and cram them down their throats.”
Chapter Three
"Maman, did Santa come yet? Daddy said he would find me all the way in Colorado."
Savi groaned to herself. Damn Damián for making promises like that. All of Marisol's gifts were back at their house in Solana Beach. Savi had found a few things at a local thrift shop and a discount store this week, but not nearly as nice as the toys she'd purchased over the last six months, with whatever remained from each paycheck. All left behind when she'd had to run. Savi damned her bastard father once more, this time for ruining Christmas for her daughter. She hoped he would rot in hell one day soon.
"Maman. Are you awake?"
"Yes, baby. Just resting my eyes." Savi blinked several times, stalling for time. "Feliz Navidad, sweetheart. Why don't we go fix Dami…Daddy some breakfast before we open presents?"
Savi still couldn't get used to calling Damián "Daddy," but her daughter certainly had had no problem latching onto the name from the night they'd explained to her that Damián was her father. Heck, she'd called him that even before she'd known there was a biological connection.
Not having experienced a father's love, Savi wasn't sure how to analyze the bond forming between the two of them. She'd fought hard not to inhibit their relationship, but still kept a watchful eye on th
em. Men could change, just as her father had done when Savi was eight. Watching Mari's face light up whenever Damián called her his little doll, or teased her about something, made Savi long for that kind of love and acceptance.
Right now, though, she watched the light go out of Mari's eyes, because mean old Maman wouldn't let her dive into the mountains of presents she expected to find under the tree they'd decorated together last week. Her daughter's disappointment would only grow worse when they went into the living room and she saw that Santa hadn't really found her in Colorado, after all.
"Can I look under the tree before we go to the kitchen?"
Savi swallowed against the lump in her throat. "May I?" Savi prompted, still hoping to postpone the inevitable.
Mari sat up on her heels and stared down at Savi. "May I look, Maman? May I?"
Savi tossed the blanket off and fought back a moan as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. She sat until she could get the pain in her side under control. She still couldn't believe that Lyle had broken her rib.
"Please, Maman?"
Not sure she could stand to see the disappointment coming, Savi nodded and let Mari scamper off the bed, get into the wooly slippers she'd gotten at Marc's outfitter store, and pad to the door. It was still dark outside, but when she opened the door to the living room, the lights of the Christmas tree illuminated the bedroom. Damián certainly had used a lot of lights on the little tree. The smell of fresh spruce wafted into the bedroom. The tree they'd cut was so much more beautiful than anything Savi would have found back home. And he was sweet to leave the tree on all night for her daughter. Mari had been asleep when he'd carried her into the apartment after they'd returned home from midnight Mass not so many hours ago.
The squeal she heard from Mari sent warning bells off and Savi rose more quickly than she should have. After regaining her equilibrium—and breath—she held her side as she hurried into the living room. Her eyes opened as wide as Mari's at the sight. Around the tree were dozens of gifts—including an enormous wooden dollhouse Mari was checking out at the moment. Many of the other gifts were wrapped, but there were so many more than the few Savi had placed there. She looked over to find a bare-chested Damián sitting up on the sofa, a sappy grin on his face as he took in the experience of his first Christmas with his daughter.
"How did you…?"
He turned toward her shaking his head as he placed a finger against his lips. Savi rubbed her chest to ease the unexpected ache there.
"Maman, Daddy was right. Santa did find us! Look what he brought me!" Her daughter peeked inside the dollhouse shaped like a log cabin and began moving tiny pieces of furniture around. The look of awe and wonder on her face reminded Savi how resilient children could be. Her whole world had been upended two weeks ago, but this morning, all was right in her little girl's world because Santa hadn't forgotten her. Savi blinked against a burning in her eyes. An image of a past Christmas flitted across her mind.
"Maman! Look what Santa brought me. Barbie's house!"
Maman, dressed in her maroon silk robe, sipped hot tea and watched seven-year-old Savannah open her presents. Father read the newspaper, disconnected from the females in the scene, but Maman's brown eyes shone with happiness. Maman loved Christmas more than any other holiday.
"Open another present, chére. What else did Père Noël bring you?"
The blonde-headed little girl pulled another box from under the enormous tree and opened it to find a Holiday Barbie doll in a sparkling green-velvet gown. A big bow was set at an angle on the doll's blonde head. She looked like a princess, without a tiara.
Her mind flashed forward to what might have been the next Christmas…
The little girl crawled under her bed, clutching the blond-haired princess in her hands, trying to hide from Father…
The pad of Damián's thumb brushed against her cheek and Savi nearly came out of her skin as she jumped back.
"Whoa, querida." Damián reached out to steady her, grabbing her by the upper arms.
Savi looked up at him, drawing a few ragged breaths as she fought to regain control. His hands were so strong. For one moment of weakness, she wished she could lean on him, but she needed to pull away instead. She followed the instincts that had kept her safe for so long.
His look of hurt made her feel guilty, after all he'd done for them, but she wasn't ready to have any man touching her. She'd never give her body to another man, especially not as payment for services offered. Never again.
"You were a million miles away."
She blinked and wondered where that flashback had come from. She hadn't thought of those Christmas memories in…forever. Even now, Savi felt as if she were watching a scene from a Christmas classic movie, not remembering a part of her own life. No, not her life. Savannah's. All emotional ties to that tragic little girl had been severed for a very long time.
"You okay, Savi?"
She nodded, but needed to put some distance between them. "What can I fix you for breakfast? Pancakes? Mari's probably hungry."
"She won't be thinking about food for a while." He studied Savi's face with concern in his eyes and she had the feeling he was seeing more than he should. "You sure you're okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."
Savannah's Maman disappeared when she was eight. The little girl's spirit died soon after, right after her father molested her and began more than a decade of abuse and torture on the innocent little girl's body and mind.
The only person in the flashback scene who had survived unscathed was Savannah's father—and she wished she could send him and all monsters like him to the pits of hell so she could watch them burn.
* * *
Well, at least he'd brought a smile to the face of one of his girls this Christmas morning. Damián tried to hide his disappointment. Last week, when he'd heard Marisol chatter to Santa at the mall about the things she wanted to receive, he'd gone to work trying to make his daughter's Christmas dreams come true. That Josefina doll had taken a chunk out of his dwindling checking account.
He'd hoped Marisol's happiness also would bring a little joy to her mama, too, but no such luck.
Clearly, Savi wasn't interested in anything he had to offer. The look on her face made it obvious the holiday wasn't as special for her as it was for him. Maybe sad memories from her past clouded the joy of the season for her. The holidays weren't happy for lots of people. Adam…Dad had gone into a funk every year until he got through the holidays. Damián hoped he and Karla were making new memories this Christmas morning to replace the sad ones.
While he didn't think he could do anything to change Savi's state of mind, Damián was determined for Marisol to have nothing but pleasant memories and he was ready to start celebrating. He'd never managed to go to sleep last night. He'd been assembling toys and then helped Luke Denton, a new Dom at the club and Marc's SAR partner, carry the log-cabin dollhouse upstairs. Luke, a carpenter and an artist, had worked on the house night and day all week. He seemed like a man on a mission and Damián was just grateful to him for helping make this a special Christmas for Marisol.
Damián had a lot planned for today, including playing Legos again with Marisol. He also hoped he'd connect with Savi on common ground at some point.
First, he needed to answer the call of nature and take care of his stump. "I'll be right back."
When he returned to the living room, Savi was smiling, sitting on the floor and watching Marisol unwrap another gift. Ah, the set of American Girl books. He remembered how much Teresa had enjoyed the Josefina stories at that age and hoped Marisol didn't already have them, or the doll, for that matter.
"Josefina!"
Damn. She probably already had them.
"How did Santa know I wanted these?"
Score. Pride swelled his chest. Savi glanced over at him and mouthed the words "thank you," but he didn't miss the pang of regret in her eyes. He hoped she didn't see him as competition for their daughter's affections. Hell, he had some asinine
notion about sharing the responsibility of raising her now. Far-fetched, given how Savi hadn't wanted to have much to do with him since she'd shown up on his doorstep. They'd co-existed, but Savi avoided being alone with him—not easy to do in this tiny apartment with the three of them practically on top of each other.
But he couldn't believe how much he had enjoyed having them both here. Mine. Family was the most important thing of all to him. If Savi thought he'd turn his back on his daughter, well, she had a lot more to learn about him.
Damián limped into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. His stump ached this morning. It had looked redder than Santa's suit when he'd been in the bathroom, but he'd be damned if he'd remove the prosthesis and show Savi what he'd become. Of course, if he ever did get anywhere with her, he'd have to reveal he was a cripple. He'd look pretty damned stupid if he refused to remove his pants in bed, and he couldn't get them off without first taking off the prosthesis.
"You should have Marc or Dr. McKenzie take a look at that foot."
Damián spilled coffee grounds on the countertop and turned to find Savi standing in the doorway.
"Nothing they can do." Determined to veer this conversation off in another direction ASAP, he went back to loading the coffeemaker. Marc should be here soon, but he hoped she wouldn't mention the foot to him. He hadn't told Marc she didn't know about the amputation yet.
Savi reached for a paper towel and began cleaning up the mess. Too bad she couldn't clean up the mess in both of their lives at the moment.
"Thank you for making this day so special for Mari."
Damián measured the grounds again. "No big deal."
"Yes it was. You helped keep the magic of Christmas alive for her another year. I just want you to know I appreciate it."
He turned back to her, noticing that her eye's bruising had faded to yellowish green. Almost healed. Anger that someone would hurt her seethed beneath the surface, but he regained control and picked up the conversation. "She's my daughter, too. That's what daddies do."
Nobody's Perfect Page 6
