“Does Damien know how close you were?”
“No, there was no reason to share. He fucked up. He didn’t keep her safe. I wasn’t going to ease his guilt by sharing what was going on in her life at the time. He should have been there for her. He made it easy for this asshole to take her. She didn’t tell me everything like she would have with him. If Damien and I would have had the whole story, we could have protected her. That night at the party, when all those fuckers were giving her a hard time, I was off in the back, fucking another woman. I’ll never forgive myself. She deserved to be protected by us.”
With the vehemence in his voice, I now understand Martin’s actions with the things he has done since Rebecca’s death. He truly loved her like a sister, and he blames Damien. All his actions up until this point have been revenge. It’s sad on so many levels. He’s basically just a broken, lonely man, who is letting the guilt of the past eat him away.
I don’t know why I believe him, but I do.
“Martin, I know you don’t want to hear this, but Damien is a good man. He blames himself, too. He loved Rebecca. You both need to forgive yourselves.”
He ignores my comment and just looks at me with sad eyes.
Damien and Martin both blame themselves for what happened, and my heart hurts for them.
“You remind me of her.”
I just stare at him. I’m not sure how to respond.
He shakes himself out of whatever memory he was reliving, and vengeful Martin returns. “I need to go.” He adjusts his glasses, and then he reaches for the door. Just before opening the door, he adds, “You’ll be getting close to piecing together who it is after you guys figure this next piece out. I’ll be in touch. Stay safe, Allison. I don’t want you to be the next victim. You can thank me later for the attention you’re about to receive. Damien should be walking through that door in less than thirty seconds.” He walks out the opposite door and closes it behind him.
Right on cue, Damien comes through the door by himself. As he walks over to me, he asks, “Alli, are you okay?” He’s tense and worried.
Standing up, I respond, “Yes, I’m fine. Martin just left. I wasn’t alone for more than ten seconds.”
Immediately, Damien envelops me in a hug. I love the feel of him.
He buries his nose in my neck, squeezing me to him. “I can’t believe I let you do this. I about went crazy out there, thinking about what could be happening.”
“I’m really okay. I had the pen, remember? It wasn’t like last time. He stayed across the room the entire time. I got the next clue. That’s what matters. He’s hurting in all this, too, Damien.”
He’s not taking my word for it. It appears he’s going to ignore my last comment. I wish he could have been in here to see Martin’s warring emotions and façade. Damien’s searching me over from head to toe. His hands roam over me as he looks for any signs of distress. He studies me for a minute. Then, he breathes out a sigh of relief.
“Let’s get you out of here. Bane is in the front. Martin wouldn’t allow him to come back.”
I let out a small snort. “I’m sure, considering how Mr. Badass charged after him the last time. I can’t imagine Martin would want to chance another run-in.”
With the look I receive, I’m guessing my statement wasn’t that funny. As we get to the door, Dr. Jacobs is there to walk us out.
He’s holding a chart, making some notes, as if he truly just had an appointment with me. He leads us to a counter and hands us a bill.
Geez, Martin really leaves no stone unturned.
Damien pays without even looking at the bill, and I turn around.
Holy Hannah. A lot of people are waiting with cameras outside. So, this is what Martin meant about the attention. I mentally roll my eyes. Because of some of these unnecessary stunts, Martin and I are going to have a few words after this is all over with. He’s ensured that the media sees me leaving the doctor’s office, so the crazy psychopath has some proof to confirm the pregnancy rumors.
Bane reports the situation, “Sir, they just showed up as if they had been tipped off while you were back there with Mrs. Wales.”
Damien groans.
I reply in a small voice, “It was Martin. I’ll explain later.”
Damien looks down at me, and I can see the fury building behind those blue depths. He does not like that I was in the same room as his ex–best friend. I don’t blame him.
It’s definitely not on my top-ten list either.
Last time though, I think Martin was desperate because of all the heat that was on him. It’s all starting to come together— slowly.
Bane says something in his earpiece that I can’t make out.
Damien starts issuing instructions, “Bane, when we go out there, you make sure no one touches Alli—absolutely no one. She’s the priority.”
Bane nods as we make our way to the door.
I plaster a smile on my face and look up at Damien. “Just look happy as we go out to the car, okay? Don’t look brooding or stressed. Until we figure out how we want to play this after I tell you everything, we don’t want any negative press about what’s going on in our relationship.”
Without hesitation, he plasters on his public façade. I can still see the trouble in his eyes, but to an outsider, we look like the perfect happy couple without a care in the world. I wind my arm around his waist as Bane positions himself on my other side.
Bane takes control of the situation as he says, “Jeremy will be pulling up any second to clear the crowd. Mr. Wales, Mrs. Wales will be between us as we get to the car as fast as we can. Jeremy will remain outside the vehicle until we have her safely inside.”
Damien responds, “Sounds good, Bane.”
Jeremy pulls up, gets out of the car, and clears a path. We walk out the doors, and just like that, we are in the chaos of questions.
“Allison, how is your health?”
“When is the baby due?”
“Mr. Wales, are you shocked at the news?”
And my favorite, “Is this why you got married so fast?”
We keep our smiles in place on our faces. Camera flashes go off as we make it to the car. In record time, we are inside and on our way. People tap the side of the car, shouting their questions through the glass.
When we pull out on the road, I lay my head back, let out a sigh of relief, and close my eyes for a brief moment. It’s over.
After a few minutes, I look over at Damien, who is still eyeing me worriedly.
Squeezing his hand, I mouth the words, We need to talk.
He tips his head in understanding. Taking his phone, he dials a number. “Frank, Wales. Ben should have dropped some contracts off for me. Very good. I’ll be at the sports complex momentarily. I have some business to take care of before the game tomorrow. With all this media mayhem surrounding my wife, we’ll be coming in the back entrance.”
Hitting End on his phone, he says to the driver at the front of the car, “Jeremy, to the sports complex. Bring us into the private entrance. You’re to remain there until I finish my work or when Alli is ready to head back to the hotel.”
“Yes, sir.”
Damien gives me a little wink.
Reluctantly, I must admit that Martin is quite clever. He gives Damien very obvious reasons to keep security high.
I hope Martin is telling the truth.
He’d have to be a phenomenal actor, regarding how he felt about Rebecca. I might be naive, but for now, I’m going to believe him. Hopefully what I’m about to tell Damien doesn’t cause him to carry additional guilt for Rebecca.
Like my mom used to tell me, The past is in the past, and all we can do is learn from it to make our future better.
We’ve been sitting in Damien’s massive office at the sports complex for about three hours now. I’ve rehashed every detail of my meeting with Martin—every single detail.
I’m exhausted. Squeezing Damien’s hand, I try to comfort him as I see the hurt in his eyes. Telling him
about Rebecca confiding in Martin was the hardest part. Damien needs to forgive himself.
I know from experience. My mom always said, You don’t have to forget, Allison. You can forgive, move on, and live your life.
Even if Martin and Damien had known what was going to happen, fate has a way of stepping in and letting what was meant to be come to pass. I remember my mother’s words, Allison, live your life to the fullest. Don’t dwell on the things you cannot change. Treasure the moments you have.
In his perfectly pressed black suit, Bane is sitting across from us on another couch. “Sir, I’m going to pull the article Martin referenced and start from there. We’ll need a plausible reason to go to your parents’ house. Let me know what you and Mrs. Wales decide regarding the pregnancy rumors and being more affectionate in public. My suggestion would be to play both up in order to drive the perp over the edge faster.”
My stomach drops at the pregnancy comment. I’m about to speak my thoughts when Damien squeezes my hand. A look passes over his features as he gazes at me. I know he’s about to handle it, and we both agree on how it should be handled. I don’t know how I know it, but I do.
Damien speaks to Bane, “My mother has been wanting to have a party. She’ll drop everything she has going on to do it as long as it means maximum exposure. I’m not playing up the pregnancy rumors—period. No negotiation. In regard to the more public display of affection, I don’t mind that as long as Alli is okay with it. But I’m not making my wife a sex object.”
I squeeze his hand back as I respond, “Agreed.”
Being a naturally private person is going to make this a little harder, but I’m relieved Damien didn’t even entertain the other suggestion. It just feels wrong to pretend to be pregnant.
“Very well, sir. Let me know when you’re ready to leave. I’ll start looking into all the details we discussed.” Bane stands and walks out the door at the other end of the room.
Damien grabs some file folders off the table and starts signing some documents. I’m guessing they are probably the contracts Ben dropped off. I lie back on the couch and try to organize all these chaotic thoughts in my mind. We’ve had a busy morning to say the least.
Damien stops my train of thought. “You know, if you want me to give all this up, I would in a heartbeat. We could disappear and never be found again. I want to find the fucker who killed Rebecca, but you’re my priority, Alli. Your safety and happiness are what matters the most.”
I sit back up and look at my husband sitting next to me. He grips the pen tightly as he savagely signs his name over and over again.
Putting my hand on his arm, I try to calm his nerves. “I know you would. You and I both know though that isn’t how we want to live. Right now, everything just feels out of control, and we can’t slow it down or rein it all in. It feels like we’re trapped, which intensifies all this.”
Abandoning his signing frenzy, he leans back against the couch, and I follow him. He puts his arm around me while his free hand rubs his forehead.
Blowing out a long breath, he says. “After the game tomorrow, we need to get out of here and take a few days to ourselves to regroup mentally.”
We don’t have time for that.
“We just got back from our honeymoon. You have to be getting behind on your work, Damien. I don’t—”
He cuts me off. “Baby, it’ll be fine. I’ve got it under control. We might have just gotten back, but we have had to deal with a year’s worth of stress this week. Let’s just take a couple of days. It’ll give Bane time to research, and we can decompress some. No cameras, no press, just us.”
“When you put it like that, how’s a wife to refuse?”
Just then, I hear my phone chime from my purse. I grab it and see it’s Sam.
Sam: Girl, if you are preggers and didn’t tell me first, I won’t be responsible for what I do to your husband—because I won’t be able to do anything to you!
Damien looks at me curiously as I roll my eyes.
I go ahead and answer his unspoken question, “It’s Sam. She’s asking about the pregnancy rumors.”
Damien rolls his eyes right back, and I type a response. I think these rumors are starting to wear on him more than he’s letting on.
Me: No, I’m not. Press isn’t listening, and they’re going for the juicier story, of course.
Sam: Gotcha. Damn bloodsuckers.
Me: Yep, that about sums it up. How are the meetings going?
Sam: Good. Tell the hubby I’ll have the kicker signed by the end of the weekend.
Me: Be good!
Sam: You know it. MUAH! xoxo
Me: xoxo
“Sam told me to tell you that she’ll have the kicker signed by the end of the weekend.”
He chuckles. “My tenacious little sister-in-law. I almost feel guilty about siccing her on my unsuspecting players.”
I bump his shoulder. “I think tenacious is an understatement. And I think your players are big boys. Sam can’t help it if they’ve been hit a few too many times in the head or think with the wrong part of their anatomy.”
I give my most innocent smile as Damien grabs the nape of my neck, bringing our lips together. His wintergreen flavor explodes in my mouth.
Barely disconnecting the kiss, he says against my lips, “I need to get you back to our room, so I can give you another lesson in how you sack the quarterback. You’re going to have to be in top form tomorrow with Sam in order to win the bet.”
I immediately stand and start backing toward the door. “I know who I’d like to sack.”
With that, Damien stands and starts to stride toward me. Biting my lip, I turn to run. Getting chased causes excitement to pool inside me.
He catches me and scoops me up by my legs. I squeal in delight as he carries me down to the car parked at the private entrance.
It’s moments like these that make all the other shit we are dealing with seem like nothing. He’s my everything, and I’d walk through fire if it meant having just one more second with him.
It’s game day, and in an hour, we are going to head to the stadium. Sam got ready at the crack of dawn, and she has already headed over to the field. This morning, she confirmed that the kicker was signed last night. I’m glad she’s enjoying her job so far.
Trying to focus back on the task at hand, I stand in the closet, looking at my choices, as I try to decide which dress to wear. Damien comes into the room in his team outfit that all the executives seem to wear on game day—tailored khakis and a blue dress shirt with the team logo on it. He comes and stands at the entrance of the closet.
Pushing dress after dress aside, I mumble, “Don’t worry, I’ll be ready in time.”
For whatever reason, I’m feeling a little more stressed today while I’m getting ready. It’s just like the banquet—but magnified by a million times.
What if I don’t remember some of the terms? What if I make a total fool of myself? It’s sports for crying out loud, and I suck at sports. Everyone is going to expect me to know it all being married to Mr. Sports Mogul.
He chuckles from behind me, causing me to whirl around to face him with a not-so-pleasant look on my face.
He immediately puts his hands up in the air. “I come in peace. I have present. It help you with dilemma.”
The way he is talking like a caveman almost has me laughing—almost. It’s so unlike him.
I just stand there with an impatient smile on my face. Sex is not going to solve my dress problem.
He steps out of the closet and then brings back a long rectangular box with a huge blue bow on the top. Now, he has my interest. Normally, I’m all for sex. However, I’m on a strict time limit, and I have to focus right now on getting ready as there’s a good chance I’ll be caught on camera at some point today.
After taking the box from him, I remove the lid and then the tissue paper. I grab a beautiful long-sleeved blue dress from the box. It’s fitted through the top with a modest V-neck. Looking in the mirror,
I form it to my body. I notice it ties at the waist and then flows gently out to my knees. It’s made of some kind of soft material that’s not over the top, but it still has me riveted from the slight sparkle it emits.
I throw myself at Damien. “Oh, I love you. You always know exactly what I need.”
He takes a few steps back with me in his arms and chuckles. “You must’ve been desperate. Normally, clothes don’t excite you like this.”
I give him a playful slap on the chest. He bends down, gives me a kiss.
Pulling back, his lips lightly touch mine as he says. “For both our sakes, I’m glad I don’t have to get you all worked up prior to the game.”
I moan at his statement. “Not helping.”
He disengages himself from me. “I’ll let you get ready. I have a phone interview in five minutes. I’ll see you downstairs in a bit. Love you, baby.”
Giving him my sweetest smile, I respond, “Love you, too.”
With that, he switches back into business mode and disappears.
About forty minutes later, I make my way downstairs. I’ve left my hair down and applied my normal amount of makeup. I have on black stilettos that I’ve worn for an extended period of time before, and they are somewhat comfortable. My jewelry has been left to a minimum. I’m wearing only the earrings I got on my wedding day and a simple tear-drop diamond necklace that Damien gave me on our honeymoon to celebrate our one-week wedding anniversary.
As I come down the stairs, it hits me. I know what I’m going to get Damien as a belated wedding gift. I’m excited to start working on it. What do you get the man who has absolutely everything or can get anything he wants? It’s not incredibly original, but fingers crossed, the sentimental meaning comes through, and he likes it.
I cross the floor toward Damien.
His voice begins to rise while he is on the phone. “Ben, I don’t fucking care what you promised them. They are not allowed in the box. Take care of it. This is unacceptable. Remember who you work for.” He ends his phone call and curses to himself. “Fucking asshole.”
Love Me (Trust Series #2) Page 12
