The Most Special Chosen

by Rachel De La Fuente

  It takes me a while, but I finally make it over the corner, only to wish I’d never left my chair. For the first time my intuition has failed me. I can’t believe it wanted me to see this.

  My heart actually stops for a moment. In the darkened corner, Damien is standing with his back to the room, bent over a girl with her head thrown back, arms and a leg wrapped tightly around him. It looks like they’re screwing!

  Her head is thrown back in ecstasy. Hell, I know how good he is, so she is definitely enjoying herself. I try to come up with an explanation, any explanation besides the one staring me in the face, but there’s only one thought running through my mind.

  “No!” I don’t speak loudly, but Damien’s head snaps up, and he looks over his shoulder, a look of pure horror on his face. His lips are red, brighter than they should be, and his mouth seems fuller. His eyes are almost black, and when they meet mine, I don’t see shame, or guilt, or pity, or even love. I only seehishorror.

  I shake my head, not wanting to process what I’m seeing. I can literally feel my heart breaking into a million tiny pieces. Without stopping to think, I turn and shove people out of my way to get to the women’s restroom. It’s the one place he can’t follow me.

  Once ensconced in one of the stalls, I pull out my phone and send a message to Shawn. I know he’ll help me through this.

  Shawnie, can u please pick me up? I’m at Queen’s Ball.

  Of course, meet u there in 10.

  I sigh, leaning up against the door. I take deep breaths, trying to keep myself from crying, or screaming. I thought that what we shared was special. I can’t believe that Damien was . . . My stomach heaves, protesting the thought. I can’t even think it. But I saw him. How do I refute the evidence right before my eyes?

  My breath hitches on a sob. I have to get out of the club. I exit the stall and take a good look in the mirror. I look like absolute shit.

  To help disguise myself, I twist my hair into a bun, since it’s probably my most defining feature. I peek out of the bathroom and am heartened to see Damien isn’t in sight. I head off for the front door as quickly as possible, keeping my head down. I can’t see him right now, not when my heart is broken and bleeding. I squeeze between the people to finally make it outside.

  I almost cry with relief when Shawn pulls up. The look on my face must say it all. He jumps out of the car and runs around to fold me into a hug. I take deep, calming breaths, trying to keep myself from crying. Once I get going, it takes me a long time to stop, so I don’t want to let it loose. I don’t succeed. A single tear tracks down my cheek.

  When I pull back a little, Shawn helps me into the car. “Let’s get you home, Lys,” he says quietly. I simply nod as he closes the door.

  Once in the car, he starts in. “What did that bastard do to you?” he growls. “I knew he was bad news, Lys. I can’t believe I fell for his act.” Even now I try to defend Damien, at least a little.

  “He didn’t . . . He didn’t do anything to me,” I mumble, staring at my knees.

  “Then why are you like this?”

  “I saw . . . I caught . . . him . . . ” I don’t want to say it because that makes it more real, but Shawn doesn’t bother to mince words.

  “So, basically the jackass was cheating on you.”

  It isn’t a question, and I don’t really want to answer, so I shrug dejectedly.

  He continues. “I’ll take that as a yes. Lys, you deserve so much more. I’m only thankful you don’t know what he really is. I can’t imagine what a wreck you’d be then. Aaaargh! That ass!” He slaps the steering wheel. “You need to be with someone who’ll respect and love you enough not to hurt you.”

  His words wash over me. I don’t pay too much attention. “I thought he did.”

  “Well, obviously not.”

  I clench my eyes shut in pain at his words. But the image of Damien and that girl plays in Technicolor behind my eyelids. “God, it was awful.” I force my eyes open and try not to blink. I don’t want to see it anymore. “The girl was literally hanging on him. And she was gorgeous. Like supermodel looks. And it looked like they were . . . were . . . ” I can’t bring myself to say it.

  “Lys, come on, where’s your confidence? You know you look amazing, too. Don’t change your opinion of yourself because he was an idiot. And, not to defend the asshole, but I’m pretty sure Damien is too proper,” he throws the word out, mockingly, “to fuck a girl in the corner of a club.” He reaches out and puts a hand on my shoulder. “You don’t need to torture yourself with that thought. This isn’t Zane happening again, Lys. Damien’s a different kind of dipshit.”

  I try to smile, but I’m certain it looks more like a grimace. I know he means well, but his words aren’t comforting. “Thanks, Shawn.”

  “You know what? Screw home; let’s go get you some chocolate.” He flips a u-ey in the middle of the street.

  “Yeah, okay.” Chocolate should help keep my mind off of all this.

  He grins. “Do you want chocolate food or chocolate drink?”

  “Shawn, it’s eleven. I don’t think any place with chocolate food will be open. I’ll take a chocolate Frappuccino.”

  “Coming right up.” He drives to an out-of-the-way café, presumably so we can’t possibly come across Damien. We sit at the outdoor tables until they close at 2:00 am.

  I’m feeling marginally better, as Shawn has kept me laughing all night with stories of our time in high school, and the fun we’ve had since becoming roommates. It’s weird. I feel like he’s trying to hold on to me, and our friendship. But I’m not going anywhere, am I?

  “Since we’ve been kicked out, we should probably get home,” Shawn sounds apologetic, but he has a point.

  “If we must,” I pout. On the ride home, I scroll through the 35 text messages and 18 missed calls from Damien, asking where I am and telling me that we need to talk. It doesn’t escape my notice that not one offers an apology. I erase them all and ignore another call. I’m not ready to talk to him, and my temper has begun flaring. It’s my coping mechanism.

  If he didn’t want to be with me, he could have said something. It hurts even more considering what we’d done a couple weeks before. Was that really all he wanted from me? I’m suddenly extremely pleased that circumstances conspired to keep us from repeating the activity. Maybe in the future I’ll be able to look back and at least revel in a perfect first time. Not many women can boast that.

  Thinking about it gets me down. I was so certain Damien truly cared about me. Shows how much I know. I’m great, until he found something better.

  Shawn does his best to keep me laughing as he drives us home. He keeps me preoccupied enough that the thoughts of Damien and his betrayal can’t be my main focus. At least until I see who’s waiting in the driveway. Shawn sees him at the same time I do.

  “Pull into the garage, Shawnie. I don’t really want to talk to him.”

  “All right.” Shawn hits the button for the garage, and I notice Damien’s worried look.

  “Elysabeth!” He hops off his motorcycle, and, despite my current feelings, I can’t help but notice how fluid his movements are, or how gorgeous he is, which makes me angry at myself. Buck up, Lys.

  “Elysabeth! Please, I must speak to you! You do not understand!” He throws himself in front of the car, spitting out a fast string of French as he does so, making Shawn hit the brakes, hard. “Elysabeth, s’il te plaît. Écoutes-moi!”

  “What the fuck?!? Is he crazy?” Shawn yells.

  “Elysabeth!” Damien’s eyes are wide and wild, and he sounds almost panicked.

  “Do you want me to tell him to leave?” Shawn sounds a bit too pleased with that thought.

  I shake my head. “Thanks, Shawnie, but no.” I sigh. “I can’t avoid him forever, and it doesn’t look like he’ll leave me alone.” I meet Shawn’s gaze. “Just don’t leave, please.”

  He touches my arm with a concerned expression. “Are you afraid of him?”

  I smile warmly at h
ow protective he gets when a guy is giving me troubles. “No, but Mount Lys might erupt.” Shawn nods in understanding. He doesn’t want to see another eruption any more than I do.

  I get out of the car, my anger returning now that I have a target for it. “What the hell was that, Damien? Do you have a death wish?”

  “Elysabeth, please, I must speak with you.”

  “I don’t want to speak with you. Go away!”

  “Elysabeth, allow me to explain what you saw.” A flare of anger hits at his words, and I explode.

  With a hard shove at his chest, I hurl my hurt and anger at him. “Explain what I saw? Explain what I saw? We both know what I saw, you two-timing fuckwad. I saw you with her, on her, in her!” I take a deep breath to continue my diatribe.

  “I have every reason to hope to never speak to you again, and yet you won’t leave me alone! Why are you here?” I wait for an answer, but nothing is forthcoming. “What can you possibly say to make me forgive you? I mean, why would you want me to? You looked plenty happy with her.” I remember the look of horror on his face at being caught at the club and feel a deep pain again. “Go away, Damien. Just . . . go away.”

  I start to lose steam, and my final words come out sounding defeated. Even worse, stupid, traitorous, teardrops are sliding down my face.

  Damien drops to his knees in front of me, hands raised, almost as though he wants to take hold of me. He looks absolutely devastated. “Please, Elysabeth, ma chère, do not cry. I swear to you, it is not what you think. Let me explain.”

  Mentally exhausted, I give in. “Fine,” I shrug. “If that’s what it takes to get you to leave, say what you will.”

  “Elysabeth,” Damien starts, sounding hesitant. “I have needed to speak to you, to explain something, but I was not sure you were ready to hear it. And now, I have to tell you, so that you will understand.” I look at Shawn and could swear I see a sudden look of understanding. But in a flash, with a quick look to me, it’s gone.

  “She already knows you’re an ass, Damien,” Shawn says coarsely.

  Still on his knees, Damien drops his head and sighs. “I know I made a horrible mistake, but it is not the one you think.” He looks back up at me, then at Shawn. “Will you come with me, both of you? There is something I need to show you.”

  “Go with you, are you crazy?” I move away from him in surprise and exasperation. “Damien, it’s almost 2:30 in the morning! Even if I didn’t want to go to sleep, why the hell would I go anywhere with you?” Shawn grips my shoulder, recognizing the signs of my anger returning. I grind my teeth in frustration and turn away from Damien entirely. I desperately want to hit something to work out my anger. I wish I’d gotten that punching bag for my birthday.

  “Where would we be going?” Shawn asks suspiciously. “I mean, Lys may trust you. Or, well, she may have trusted you, but I certainly don’t.”

  “I would like to take you to my home. Elysabeth,” Damien says pleadingly. “I think it is time for you to meet my family. I would like you to speak to my father. He can make things clearer than I can.”

  I whirl around to face him. “Now? You think now is the right time for me to meet your family? After all the times you told me they were different and you wouldn’t feel comfortable with me meeting them?” My voice cracks, embarrassing me. I don’t want to let him know how much this hurts me. Anger is easier than hurt.

  “Considering what I will be disclosing to you, yes.” I look at Shawn with a raised eyebrow. I’m certainly not tired anymore, and curiosity is worming its way into my anger. Damien wants me to meet his family. Finally. Shawn shrugs. I shrug as well. He nods.

  “All right, we’ll go, but I’m driving Lys,” Shawn says, practically daring Damien to argue. Damien wisely keeps his mouth shut.

  Once we’re ensconced in the privacy of Shawn’s car, I can’t help but ask, “Do you think this is a good idea, Shawn?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know, but he wants to explain. That’s a step in the right direction.”

  “Do you think there’s any possible explanation besides the obvious one?” He shrugs again, which I find odd, but I have far too much on my mind to consider why Shawn is shrugging so much when he rarely does. I reach forward to turn on the radio. It’s set to a hard rock channel. Shawn’s the one who’d originally gotten me into this kind of music. He broadened my musical horizons.

  After about 15 minutes, Damien pulls up to the same gated community we went through when we went to the beach, speaks to the guard, and gets us waved through. We follow Damien through a massive housing community until we pull into a long, winding driveway that ends at a huge mansion.

  It’s three stories tall and looks like it’s made of marble. The mansion is built in a stair shape, with a tall back, and a shorter front. There’s also a two-story circular portion attached to the front that has single-story pillars surrounding it which support a protruding, gazebo-style roof. There are two chimney stacks on the front portion, and the roof is a warm wine color. Shawn’s surprised, to say the least.

  “This is amazing!” Shawn sounds as awed as I felt the first time I saw these houses.

  “I know. But really, considering his gifts, and his car, we both should have seen it coming.” I sigh. “Now, come on, and stick with me.” We both get out at the same time, then follow Damien up the stairs and walk through the door as he holds it open for us. I’m pretty sure Damien sniffs me as I walk past him. It’s weird. Do I smell?

  As we pass the enormous entrance hall and go down a corridor, I get a good look at the inside of his house. It’s as beautiful as the outside, and it feels so . . . homey. It’s all done in warm golds, creams, and different woods. But there are also blues and whites to help keep it from getting overpowering.

  Damien passes by us as an absolutely, drop-dead gorgeous lady stands from the armchair she had been sitting in. “Hello, Mother.” Shawn looks at me, eyes wide, and mouths mother? I share his shock. The lady can easily pass for Damien’s older sister. I can’t believe she’s old enough to be his mother.

  She has shoulder-length, slightly wavy, chocolate brown hair which contrasts beautifully with her porcelain skin. Her large, dark brown eyes are framed by thick lashes. Her full pink lips and aristocratic nose could easily see her in any fashion magazine. Her figure is perfect, and is shown off to advantage in a sea foam green, silk, sheath dress that reaches her knees.

  “Damien, Cucciolo, you should have told me you were bringing guests. I have nothing prepared.” Despite her warm smile, I can hear the rebuke in her voice. I’m surprised she doesn’t complain about the hour.

  “It was . . . unexpected, Mother. This is Elysabeth, and her best friend, Shawn.” She turns to us.

  “Elysabeth? You mean . . . ?” Damien nods with a nervous look. “Elysabeth, it is so nice to finally meet you. I have heard so much about you. And Shawn, it is nice to meet you as well.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Delanciennes.” I’m unable to come up with anything complimentary to say, and I’m sure she notices.

  “You . . . have a beautiful home, Ma’am.” Shawn tries to help, but his hesitance only makes it seem worse. She smiles at him. “Thank you.” She turns to her son with a frown. “Obviously there are some problems. What has happened? You said she was not ready yet.” I look to Shawn, confused, but he ignores me.

  Damien looks an odd combination of sheepish and worried. “I know, Mother, and I am still not sure. There have been . . . complications.” I roll my eyes and huff. What a ridiculous way to refer to what happened.

  “What happened?” Damien’s mother asks seriously.

  “She saw me . . . ” He trails off with a meaningful look, and apparently, he doesn’t need to say any more. His mother gasps, covering her mouth with her hands.

  “You did not! From a living source!” She sounds scandalized. “How can you ever expect her to forgive you?” Damien hangs his head. I’m getting more confused by the moment.

  “I realize how grave my err
or was Mother, but I was desperate.” I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

  “I assume she told her friend and now he needs to know as well?” Damien nods at his mother’s exasperated words. Then, I get a major shock. So does Damien, if his expression is anything to go by.

  “I already know,” Shawn says. And I think I’ve figured out what’s really going on.”

  “I doubt that,” Damien’s mother says condescendingly.

  Shawn casts Mrs. Delanciennes an exasperated look, before turning back to Damien. “You were thirsty right?” Damien nods slowly, still looking shocked. “And Lys saw you taking care of that?” Damien nods again. “You’re a complete idiot, you know that?” Shawn looks vaguely disgusted. “At first I thought she knew, then I figured you kept it quiet for your own reasons, and I was okay with that, but you’ve hurt her by holding it back. You owe her the truth!” He says, pointing at me. “You should have told her ages ago! And you should have been better prepared.”

  Damien still looks shocked. “How—”

  “It’s not important,” Shawn waves away the question.

  It’s obvious Shawn knows something I don’t, and the thought that he’s kept something, presumably important, from me annoys me more than it would if I weren’t already pissed off.

  “Hello!” I wave my arms. “Still here. What’s going on? And what, exactly, is it that you all know that I don’t?” Damien glances at Shawn hopefully.

  Shawn shakes his head forcefully. “No, way. This is all on you.”

  Damien sighs. “Elysabeth, I have a revelation for you, that I hope you can accept—”

  “Oh, she’ll accept it,” mumbles Shawn.

  “But I’d rather wait for my father,” continues Damien, completely ignoring Shawn’s interruption.

  “Look, I want to know what the hell is going on. I don’t know what Shawn is going on about, but I saw you . . . bent over her . . . and she was—” My voice breaks. I can’t continue.

  “Damien Delanciennes, what have you done?” Damien seems to shrink down at the booming voice. I turn to the speaker, an attractive, slightly older version of Damien. This man must be his father, as he has no older brothers. He’s intimidating, and is dressed in extremely elegant black and red clothing that has a certain older feeling, as though from another era.