Nobody's Perfect

by Kallypso Masters

  He hated the reason she'd come back to him, but was so glad she had turned to him and not someone else.

  "I sometimes feel Marc wears a mask."

  He turned to Angelina again. "He gave up wearing it at the club."

  She glanced down. "Well, not voluntarily. I…um, well, Karla and Cassie and I were…oh, hell, I destroyed his wolf mask last October."

  Damián raised his eyebrows. Damn. He fought the urge to laugh out loud, not wanting to encourage a sub's bratty behavior, but it was about time someone got rid of that asinine thing. Marc needed to admit who he was, no matter who might have a problem with it. Chances of any of the people he said he was hiding from, especially his parents, ever seeing him in the club were nonexistent. Maybe he wasn't hiding from them, though, but himself.

  Maybe—

  "Marco taught me to ski in college."

  Damián looked up as a stunning Italian woman, dressed in an expensive-looking ski outfit he'd guess had never come near touching the snow. She sat down on the bench on the other side of Angelina, who stiffened and inched closer to Damián. Was this the woman Angelina had just been talking about?

  "You went to college with Marc?" Angelina asked. He heard the tremor in her voice.

  "Yes. I'll never forget when that September he brought me up here to meet his family."

  Angelina clenched and unclenched her hands. He wondered if she were debating whether she should deck the woman, or if she should just run away from her.

  "Mama D'Alessio invited me over last night to welcome Marco home, but I hardly got to speak with him the way you monopolized his time."

  Angelina's body tensed.

  The catty woman bared her claws as she tried to get a rise out of Angelina. Damián didn't get the impression there had been anyone special who had gotten under his skin when they were in service, certainly not as much as Savannah had gotten under Damián's skin.

  Damián reached over and squeezed Angelina's hand. Surely, she knew Marc thought the world of her. How could she think this woman had any influence over Marc anymore, if she ever had?

  Angelina sat up taller. "Marc's his own man and can decide who he wants to spend him time with."

  "Well, I'm just saying you shouldn't try to keep Marco away from us. We missed him at Christmas especially."

  The woman made it sound like she was more important to the family—or had more of a right to be here—than Angelina.

  "Family is very important to both of us, Melissa. I've enjoyed meeting his family very much this weekend, but we couldn't be in two places at once. He spent Christmas with my family. "

  Now it was the bitch's turn to clench her fists. Apparently, Angelina had hit a nerve. Good for her.

  Melissa stood and pranced off in a huff, and Angelina's body relaxed, but soon she began shaking. He caged her chin and forced her to focus on him. "Breathe deeply." She didn't respond. "Now, Angelina."

  She took several shallow breaths, and then he saw tears in her eyes. At least her shaking had stopped. He released her face, but took her hand and squeezed it. "Just ignore her. She's just trying to make trouble. Marc's with you, not her."

  "Thanks. I'm okay."

  "Talk to Marc. Tonight."

  She nodded. "I'll try."

  "Don't try. Do it."

  She pulled away. "I'm going up to the room. I'll probably see you at dinner."

  Damián watched her walk toward the chair lift and wondered if she had any intention of dealing with the issue. But that was between her and Marc. He had his hands full with Savi and Marisol.

  Damián looked out at the slopes and saw Marc skiing backward down a slightly steeper grade, Marisol facing him, her eyes wide, excitement mixed with a bit of fear evident on her face. He appeared ready to catch her if she fell.

  She placed all her trust in Marc at the moment. Damián wanted her to look at him like that.

  His gaze drifted to Savi who must have been looking at him, but turned away when he zeroed in on her.

  He wished Savi would place her trust in him, too. It would probably be a lot easier for Marisol to do that than his Savita.

  * * *

  Damián looked up as Marc strolled into the bar area, ordered something, and slid onto a barstool. Marc ran his hand through his hair and sighed. Something must be up, but Damián wasn't sure his friend wanted company. If he did, he'd be upstairs with Angelina. Marc valued his solitude and privacy more than anyone Damián knew.

  Maybe Angelina had brought up the subject of Melissa.

  When the redheaded bartender set a glass and a bottle of white wine in front of him, Marc waited for her to pour a sample, but didn't bother to go through his usual ritual of tasting. He filled the glass nearly to the rim, then downed the contents of the glass in a few swallows.

  Marc was going to be fucked up if he kept chugging his wine like that. Damián picked up his beer and headed over to see what was up.

  "Where's Angelina?"

  Marc looked up at him. "Upstairs." He looked around to see if anyone was with Damián. "How about Savi and Marisol?"

  "I think you wore Marisol out on the slopes today. They said they plan to soak in their Jacuzzi and go to bed early."

  Damián was disappointed that their last night at the resort would be spent apart. Savi didn't even want to have dinner with him, but said they'd order room service instead. They'd been apart most of the day and he missed them like crazy.

  Funny how a few weeks ago, he'd have been fine being alone. Situation normal. But now the thought of their not being in his life hurt. An actually physical pain.

  Damián took a seat next to his friend and took a swig of his now-warm beer. The bartender placed several bowls of salty snacks between them. She reminded him of the redhead he and Marc had played with at the kink club in LA, just before they'd been deployed to Iraq. Marc had insisted Damián come along that night. It had been the first time Damián had experienced BDSM in a positive way since he'd dumped his kinky girlfriend after juvie.

  Damián reached for a handful of pistachios and laid them in a row in front of him. He opened one and set the shells aside. Marc seemed pissed about something. "Anything you want to talk about?"

  "Not particularly."

  So much for that.

  Marc paused, grabbing a nut and cracking it open. "Tell me more about you and Savi. Where did you meet her?"

  Damián washed another nut down with a swallow of beer. "Long time ago at the hotel where I worked. She was in trouble and I happened to be the only person around to help."

  "You played the hero, huh?"

  "Something like that." Some fucking hero. He'd taken her back to the very man she was on the run from now.

  "Why didn't you tell me you had a kid?"

  "Didn't know myself until a couple weeks ago."

  "Merda! She's the Savannah you were always talking about in Fallujah!"

  Damián nodded. "Yeah, but don't call her Savannah or she'll bite off your head and spit it out."

  "Duly noted." He drained his glass and poured another.

  Damián ordered another Dos Equis; definitely his last of the night. "We'll be shoving off tomorrow about noon. If I don't see you again up here before that, thanks for everything. Seeing Savi and Marisol laughing out there today was great."

  "Glad to have you all here. Looks like we'll be leaving tomorrow, too."

  "I thought you were going to stick around and visit with your family more."

  "Change of plans."

  That didn't sound good. The bartender set another bottle in front of Damián. "Angelina said she liked your family."

  For the first time since he'd walked in here, Marc grinned. "They like her a lot, too. I tried to tell her she had nothing to worry about."

  If his family and Angelina weren't the problem, then the Italian barracuda must have said something to upset him. Clearly, Marc wasn't going to talk about it, though.

  Time to change the subject. "Dad and Karla should be home sometime tomorrow after
noon. I want to stop by and see him before we head home. Fill them in on what's going on."

  "Tell them we'll invite them over later this week. Angelina would love to cook something up for them. Why don't you all come over, too?"

  "I'd like that, but will have to check with Savi."

  Marc nodded. "Merda." Abruptly, Marc stood up. "If you'll excuse me, I need to go check on Angelina. We may come down for drinks and appetizers later, unless she wants to just go have dinner. You want to join us?"

  "No. I'll just finish this one and head back upstairs."

  Motioning to the bartender, Marc signed for both checks and told the bartender to charge anything else to Marc's room.

  Damián felt like a fucking freeloader, but after his Christmas splurge, he didn't have the funds available to even cover the drinks for this weekend.

  If he didn't get his sorry ass back in a Harley shop soon, and get some money coming in, he'd have to dig even deeper into the money he'd saved for the dream of starting his own Harley repair business someday. After years of putting every spare cent away, he needed to face reality. He had a daughter to support now, and she came before any biker dreams.

  * * *

  Savi leaned against the head rest and let the wintry scenery fly by without paying much attention. The weekend in Aspen had been fun, but also exhausting.

  Marisol certainly had taken to the slopes. Children were so adaptable to whatever environment they were placed in. Savi wished she could adjust as quickly. She wanted to regain control of her life, or some semblance of it, as soon as possible. They'd been away from California for three weeks, mooching off Damián. He was job hunting and didn't have the resources to put them up indefinitely.

  She wished she'd taken time to gather her legal papers before fleeing California after Lyle's attack. How many times did she counsel families with domestic abuse issues that they needed to have things like that ready to take with them, if they had to leave and find shelter? She couldn't go back to her house for them now. Lyle and her father surely had the place under surveillance. Maybe even Mari's school wouldn't be safe. And how could she register her without a Social Security number?

  Oh, lord, what was she going to do?

  "Mind if I stop off at Adam and Karla's before we head home, Savi? They just got back from their honeymoon."

  Savi remembered the nice house where they'd spent much of Christmas day and the couple she'd met at Teresa's house. She'd rather go back to Damián's and decompress in a long, hot bath, but she couldn't even control something that simple in her life anymore.

  "No, that's fine." Mari would sleep most of the way to Denver, so she should be well-rested by the time they got there. Thoughts of what she was going to do when she went home drained what little energy she had, and she closed her eyes.

  No, not home. Damián's…

  Savi awoke with a start when they hit a bump and looked up. She'd fallen asleep, too. Amazing that she trusted Damián enough to make herself that vulnerable. Maybe it was just exhaustion.

  "Sorry about that rude awakening, querida."

  Savi wiped the sleep from her eyes and looked out the passenger window to see they'd pulled into the drive next to a white Hummer generously dusted with road salt. She wondered where they had honeymooned. Savi turned around and looked into the backseat to find Mari rubbing the sleep from her eyes, as well.

  "Where are we, Maman?"

  "Remember the house where we had Christmas dinner? Well, we're going to visit some of Daddy's friends here for a bit."

  "Can we go home soon? I want to see Boots."

  As Savi opened the back door and unbuckled Mari, she assured her daughter they'd be home soon. Home. Now even she was thinking of Damián's place as home.

  "Damián!"

  Savi held onto Mari's hand as she looked up to watch a woman with long, black curly hair catapult herself across the porch and into Damián's arms. Karla. Savi remembered thinking this young woman and Damián were a couple when she'd seen them sitting next to each other, holding hands in the waiting room at her office the first time she'd seen them together. They'd been holding hands again when she'd seen them again after choir practice at church.

  Not that it mattered to her.

  Damián reached up and touched a pink-and-green filigreed choker around her neck. "What's this?"

  She beamed at him. "One of my Christmas presents. Adam had it designed especially for me."

  He smiled at her. "Congratulations, sweetheart."

  Congratulations didn't seem like something you'd tell someone for receiving a Christmas gift, but Savi soon forgot that when Damián bent down and kissed the young woman's cheek. Savi wondered if they had ever been anything more than close friends. An unfamiliar emotion bubbled up leaving her unsettled. She chose not to explore it any further and walked up to them.

  "Ms. Baker?" Karla looked from Savi to Damián and back again, then quickly recovered. "What a nice surprise. Happy New Year!"

  "Same to you. Please call me Savi. And this is my daughter, Mari."

  Karla took one look at Mari, and her gaze riveted toward Damián with a question in her eyes. He grinned and nodded, and Karla beamed as she hunched down to Mari's height and exchanged hellos.

  A male voice interrupted the scene. "Who do we have here?"

  Savi looked up at Adam walking across the porch, his stride almost panther-like. She shuddered, then controlled her fight-or-flight response. He doesn't want to hurt you. His smile was warm. Savi relaxed.

  "Dad, you remember Savi?"

  So, he even called the man Dad.

  Damián placed his hand on the back of Mari's head. "And this little doll is our daughter, Marisol."

  The older man's green eyes twinkled as he grinned ear to ear. "So you just had to beat me to it, huh?"

  Savi watched as Karla's hand went to her abdomen and she smiled at Adam. The newlywed couple was expecting. Their easy acceptance of Damián's being the brand-new father of a seven-year-old made it clear these people shared a close bond, unconditional love.

  Adam pointed the way to the door. "Let's get inside before you all freeze to death." The man wore black jeans and a black, short-sleeved, USMC-imprinted T-shirt, but didn't seem to be cold at all.

  Inside the house, the warmth of the kitchen enveloped them. Such a friendly place, it exuded a welcoming vibe. Savi wondered if she'd get a tour of it this time. She still wanted to check out that mysterious, closed-off living room.

  When Damián placed a hand at the small of her back, Savi froze and stepped away, putting much-needed space between them. She ignored the look of sadness that crossed his face. Surely he didn't think spending a weekend together—in adjoining rooms, of course—would have changed anything. What did he want from her? When would he demand more than she could give?

  Karla offered everyone a warm drink and soon had a pot of milk heating on the stove for cocoa. Damián asked if he could talk with Adam in the office, and Savi watched them walk down a hallway toward the front of the house. So much for the grand tour.

  "Um, how was your honeymoon?"

  Oh, what an invasive question. But Karla just grinned and didn't make her feel nosey at all for asking.

  "Wonderful." The woman blushed and touched her choker. "We went to his family's cabin in the Black Hills. It was a nice escape after a few crazy months around here."

  Savi knew Karla and Adam had gone to California after Teresa's attack in early November. Because they were so close to Damián, she could imagine that incident would have affected them all profoundly.

  "Damián called us earlier to say he was in Aspen. I just assumed he'd gone up with Marc and Angie."

  "Yeah, they were there, too." Savi reached out and stroked her daughter's hair. "Mari got some ski lessons."

  "How about you?"

  "No. Doctor's orders." She realized the woman didn't know what had happened. Best to keep it that way. "I broke a rib a few weeks ago. It's still healing."

  When she looked back at
Karla, the woman's eyelids had opened wider. "I'm so sorry! I hope you're feeling better."

  "Much. Thanks."

  "Did Damián go skiing?"

  "Oh, no. He seems to have an aversion to the slopes. He just watched."

  The disappointment in the other woman's face puzzled Savi, but she didn't pursue it. There were lots of things Savi didn't want to try, usually out of fear. For whatever reason, he wanted to avoid skiing. She'd respect his choice. If not for Mari, Savi probably would have stayed in the lodge and read a book by the fire.

  "How long have you and Adam known each other?"

  "Nine years." She didn't look old enough to know him that long. "We met when I was sixteen." Karla smiled. "He rescued me from my own stupidity."

  Karla told her the story of how she'd run away at sixteen to find fame and fortune, but had wound up close to being kidnapped by a pimp. Savi shuddered. How many times had her father and Lyle threatened that fate for her if she hadn't obeyed them? Toward the end of her enslavement, she'd wondered if perhaps the life of a street hooker might have been preferable to the treatment she'd received at their hands and those of their sadistic clients.

  Feeling unwanted emotions roiling to the surface, Savi took a sip of her cocoa and found it still too hot to drink. The back door opened and Grant walked in. The woman exuded a quiet power.

  Grant took one look at Karla's necklace and grinned.

  "Congratulations, Karla. You've been collared by one of the best."

  Collared? Sounded like a police term, but had nothing to do with Karla's receiving a pretty necklace.

  Karla laughed and touched the necklace Adam had given her. "Some days, I wonder what I've gotten myself into."

  What was it about this necklace that had everyone in such awe? It was beautiful, but it was still just a necklace.

  Grant moved to the coffee pot and poured herself a mug. "You so deserve this, after all you've put up with."

  Savi felt like an outsider and glanced at the doorway through which Damián had disappeared with Adam. How long would they be gone? She just wanted to get back home and decompress for a while.