“Troy!” Keets yells, running out of the office. Troy immediately steps back and assumes a relaxed pose.
“Keets,” he nods. “Long time, no see.”
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Keets snarls. “You’re meant to be in prison.”
“Oh, I was released.” Troy chuckles. “Didn’t you hear? When Stone got that little ‘confession’ out of me, he got it by force. That makes it inadmissible in court. The ruling was overturned at the appeal. I’m a free man.”
“Well, enjoy it while it lasts,” Keets says icily. “Because come Hell or high water, I will make sure you pay for what you did to Shannon and Natalie’s father.”
I gape as I look back and forth between the two of them. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Troy throws his head back and roars with laughter. “Oh, my dear,” he says with a grin. “Your little boyfriend here seems to think I harmed your daddy. Well, maybe I did, and maybe I didn’t.” He winks. “But you can bet your bottom dollar I’ll be seeing you real soon, Nat.”
I shiver as he runs a lone finger down my arm. Keets growls and Troy laughs again, pulling his hand back and walking to the door. It slams closed behind him and I slump against the bar and lean forward, trying to catch my breath. “Are you okay?” Keets asks, grabbing my arm to stop me from falling. “You’re deathly white. Here, take a seat.” He leads me over to a table and gestures for me to sit down, while he sits opposite me. “Do you know him?”
I debate how much to tell Keets. It’s true that I didn’t know who Troy was when I slept with him, and now that knowledge makes me sick. To think I’m pregnant by the man who beat my sister and killed my father—it’s almost like an episode of Jerry Springer. Keets has been here for me since day one and although it’s only been a week, I somehow feel closer to him than anyone else in my life right now. Still… there’s the whole issue of Liz, whoever she is. It’s often been said that drunk people are the most honest. Whoever this Liz is, Keets clearly loves her and would do anything to be with her. He lied to me, and no matter what his intentions are, I can’t move past that.
“Only as Shannon’s ex,” I lie, shaking my head. He seems satisfied with that answer and stands up, removing his glasses to clean them.
“I’m going to call Shan and Stone, let them know,” he says, putting his glasses back on.
“No,” I gasp, grabbing his arm when he makes a move to walk away. He can’t tell Shannon, she will never forgive me. It doesn’t matter that I didn’t know who he was, I fucked her abusive ex; I’m having his baby. There’s no coming back from that.
“What is it?” Keets asks, taking his seat once more. “Natalie, what’s wrong?”
“You can’t tell her,” I begin, looking at him helplessly, trying to come up with a good enough reason for him to believe me, without spilling the beans about the baby. “She’s on vacation, let her enjoy it while it lasts.”
“I wish I could,” he says gently, stroking the back of my hand with his thumb. “But wouldn’t you want to know if the man who took you away from your family and abused you for years was let out of prison?” I can’t look at him right now, so I simply nod and keep my head averted as he walks away into the office. Letting out a loud sigh, I drop my head down on the table, groaning at the sudden pain in my forehead.
What the hell am I going to do?
KEETS
Well, how the hell was I to know he’d be let out?” I yell into the phone. I’ve been talking to Stone for the past hour, and so far all I’ve managed is to get a blistering headache. Removing my glasses, I set them down on the desk and rub my tired eyes. It’s obvious that Natalie was lying to me when she said she didn’t know Troy. Unfortunately, until she’s prepared to talk, there’s really nothing I can do about it. Right now though, my focus needs to be on the angry man on the other end of the phone.
“Is Natalie all right?” Shannon asks, having clearly taken the phone away from Stone because I can still hear him yelling in the background. “How’s Zeke?”
“Nat’s fine. Zeke, too,” I tell her. “He’s staying with one of his friends.”
“Well, we’ll be home on the next available flight,” she promises. Now, I feel worse. Do they think I can’t handle the situation? “That’s not necessary,” I argue, but Shannon cuts me off.
“Look, Keets, I know you can handle this, okay?” Is she reading my mind? “But this bastard touched my sister. I need to be there in case he turns up again.”
I sigh and hang my head in shame. Leave it to me to make it all about myself. “Of course, I understand,” I mumble. When I end the call, I sit for a few minutes, thinking about everything that just happened. It’s pretty damn obvious that Natalie is hiding something, but having only known her for a week so it’s really not my place to pry. It’s not as though we’re a couple or anything. But there’s no denying the terror in her eyes when I saw him standing over her in the bar. She knows him from somewhere else; I know that much for certain. But where? When? And in what capacity? None of it makes any sense to me, and I have the feeling I’ll go crazy if I try to work it out right now.
Leaving the office, I find Natalie gone. At first, I panic, thinking maybe Troy came back, but I quickly force myself to calm down and relax. Natalie’s a smart, young woman; she can take care of herself. Moving behind the bar, I pour myself a shot of bourbon and down it quickly, then follow it up with a chaser of beer. Taking my drink over to a table by the window, I sit down and stare out at the world.
“Damien, what is all this?” She laughs as I help her into her seat. I’ve organized to have our favorite booth at the bar blocked off and decorated with paper hearts and balloons. It looks like a five-year-old did it, but hopefully she understands the sweet gesture.
“Liz,” I say with a smile, holding out my hand. She takes it and we intertwine our fingers, laying them on the table. She looks so damn beautiful tonight, with her long, dark hair pulled back away from her face and left to curl artfully down her back. She’s always looked hot, but tonight, in that killer red dress with no back? Oh, my God, if we didn’t have plans I’d be taking her home and bending her over right now. My cock grows hard and I shift to adjust it in my black slacks. I made the point of wearing a suit tonight, something I hate but I know she loves. Tonight, it’s all about her. Clearing my throat, I try again. “Liz, you know I love you, right?”
“Of course, Damien, and I love you.”
“I can never offer you the world, but I can promise you that you’ll always be my world.”
“Then I will never want for anything.” She beams, and my heart soars with love.
“Well, in that case,” I say, letting go of her hand and climbing out of my seat. I feel every single eye in the bar trained on me as I get down on one knee then pull out a small red velvet box and open it. She gasps when she sees the white gold band, set with a large square-shaped diamond, with more diamonds along the band. It’s simple, beautiful, and I knew as soon as I saw it that it was the one for her. “Liz, will you marry me?”
“Oh, my God!” she screeches, tears running down her face as she stands and pulls me up, kissing me hard. I’ll take that as a yes, as thunderous applause breaks out all around us.
I pull back and take the ring from the box, sliding it on her finger. It’s a perfect fit, as I knew it would be; I had her mother give me her ring size two weeks ago. When we’re seated once more, I order a bottle of champagne to celebrate. But when it arrives, Liz surprises me by refusing a glass. “Are you feeling all right?” I ask, worried.
“Of course.” She smiles. “But I can’t drink tonight.”
“If you’re worried about driving, we can get a cab home and pick the car up tomorrow. I’m sure they—”
“It’s not that.” She grins, interrupting me. “Do you remember when I was sick last week and went to the doctor?” She sits there with a knowing smile on her face, waiting for me to figure it out. By the time it dawns on me, she’s almost crying from laugh
ing so hard.
“Are you serious?” I whisper, tears of happiness stinging my own eyes. She nods and I let out a loud yell, jumping up from the chair and punching the air. “I’m going to be a father!” Everyone in the bar cheers once more, and I fall back into my seat with a huge grin on my face. “How long?” I ask, out of breath from all of the excitement.
“About eight weeks,” Liz grins.
“Liz, I can’t… I don’t… fuck, babe, I don’t know what to say!” I can’t wipe the smile from my face right now, and everyone here knows it.
“You don’t have to say anything.” She smiles once more, grabbing my hand and holding it tight. “This is the start of the rest of our lives together. I can’t wait to see what happens next.”
A loud clap of thunder startles me from my memory, and I blink in surprise as I realize it’s raining heavily outside. A quick glance at the clock on the wall shows I’ve been lost in my thoughts for the past hour… and my beer has gone warm.
I stand up and stretch, glancing around the bar. It’s closed tonight for a function that was cancelled, so it’s just Natalie and me.
Natalie. Shit.
Doing a cursory check around the bar, I see that it’s empty. “Nat?” I call, listening for her voice, but I hear nothing above the thunder. Dammit, where is she? Pacing around the bar, I try to think of what to do. Do I go after her? Call her? Right. Idiot. They have phones now. Racing into the office, I drag out Shannon’s address book from the top drawer and flip through until I find the number I need. Punching it into the phone, I listen to Nat’s cell phone ring hollowly in my ear. Shit. Hanging up, I grab my leather jacket and slip it on as I exit the office and walk through the bar and out the front door. The rain has made the ground especially slippery, and I am forced to quickly grab onto the side of the brick wall to stop myself from slipping ass up in the mud. The rain pelts heavily on the top of my head and creates a speckled view through my glasses. Keeping my head tucked down, I pull my jacket up around my ears as I try to keep the sting of the water out of my eyes.
“Natalie!” I call out, but my voice is drowned out by a loud clap of thunder. Fuck, where is she? A movement to my right catches my eye, and I turn my head in time to see a small figure huddled against a tree in a field about a hundred yards away. Cupping my hands around my mouth, I call out again, “Natalie!” and the figure looks up. Anger courses through me as she makes no move to walk toward me. What the hell is she doing out here? Does she really care so little about her own safety?
I break out into a run across the field, but as fast as I run, I’m still soaked through by the time I reach her side. “What the hell are you doing out here?” I demand, barely able to see her through the water covering my glasses. Taking them off, I tuck them into my jacket pocket and rub my hands over her bare arms. She’s soaking wet, her hair is plastered to her head and her teeth are starting to chatter. I need to get her inside, now.
“Come on,” I say, lifting her gently up into my arms and walking carefully back across the field and into the bar. Taking her straight through to the bathroom, I stand her back on her feet and remove her wet clothing. There’s a formality to it, a means to an end. This isn’t about seduction. This is about survival.
When we’re both naked, I turn the shower on, adjusting the faucets until a steady stream of warm water pours out. Taking her hands, I gently lead her under the water with me, gripping her tighter as she gasps and tries to pull away. “Shhh,” I whisper, pulling her into my arms. “I know it hurts, just let the water do its job.” Her shoulders shake and I instinctively know she’s crying, but whether it’s in pain or frustration, I have no idea. I hold her still beneath the water, trapped in my arms as I allow it to soak into our bodies and create a vacuum of warmth around us. I keep her there until her teeth stop chattering. When I finally let her go, she stands there mutely, no longer attempting to run away. Picking up a clean cloth sitting on the bench by the shower, I pour a generous amount of sweet smelling bath gel into it, working up a lather before I touch her. When the cloth passes over her shoulder she winces and closes her eyes. Brushing her wet hair away from her neck, my eyes narrow at the fresh gouges in her pale skin, clearly made by her fingernails. Dropping the washcloth to the bottom of the shower, my fingers lightly touch the wound, immediately pulling back when she winces again. “Sorry,” I mumble, my eyes searching hers as she keeps her head downcast. I can’t understand why she keeps doing this to herself. Is there any way to help this woman who’s already come to mean so much to me? Reaching for the 2-in-1 shampoo bottle, I squirt a little into my palms, rubbing them together before smoothing them over her blonde hair, being extra careful not to go too close to her new wound. As my strong fingers massage her scalp, I feel her begin to relax until her legs almost give way beneath her. Supporting her with one arm wrapped around her waist, I use my free hand to gently guide her head beneath the stream of warm water, washing away all traces of the soap. Turning the faucet off, I help her out of the stall, grabbing a large, white, fluffy towel that’s sitting on the heated rack. I wrap it around her body, enveloping her in its thick warmth before leading her back into the bedroom.
Sitting her on the edge of the bed, I dry her hair as best I can with the towel before laying her down and tucking the blankets up around her chin, not bothering to help her into fresh clothes. Making short work of pulling on a pair of boxers, I go around locking up and turning out all the lights. Returning to the office, I pause when I see her eyes closed in sleep. Something fiercely possessive wraps its fingers around my heart, thawing some of the ice inside. She looks so innocent, so peaceful. How can I begin to understand the turmoil she’s going through, to want to hurt herself the way she does? Slipping beneath the blanket, I think nothing of pulling Natalie close to me, wrapping my arms securely around her. She mumbles incoherently and snuggles up against me, and I bury my face in her still damp hair, inhaling her scent. This woman needs me, and for at least one night I make a silent vow to give her everything I can. Though the storm rages on outside, for the first time in years, all is quiet inside of me.
NATALIE
I wake up with an almost overwhelming pressure on top of me. I panic for a split second, until I realize it’s Keets’s arm draped around my midsection. Relaxing back against him, I take the opportunity to study his face. He looks so different when he’s asleep; younger, much more peaceful. The lines are relaxed, and he looks as though whatever demons haunt him during the day are absent at night. I watch as his eyelids flutter open, and a sleepy smile spreads across his face as he gathers me close. “Good morning beautiful,” he mumbles.
“Good morning yourself.” I smile, running my hands over the muscles on his arms.
“That was a stupid thing you did last night,” he says seriously, and I look up at his face to find him intently watching me. “Why were you outside in the middle of a storm?”
I shake my head and try to explain it to him. “I just needed time on my own. I didn’t know it was going to start raining that badly. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have gone out. I’m sorry for scaring you.”
“Just don’t do it again,” he grumbles, and I can’t help but laugh as he buries his face between my neck and my shoulder, kissing it softly. I moan lightly and lean into his touch. “Natalie?” he whispers against my hair. “Why do you hurt yourself?”
“I—”
A loud bang from the bar area has us both jumping up, Keets immediately on alert. “Stay here,” he warns, grabbing a steel bat by the window as he moves silently toward the door. Glancing back at me as I sit terrified on the bed, he motions for me to stay quiet by placing his index finger against his lips. I nod breathlessly as he hoists the bat above his shoulder and reaches for the door handle…
“Keets!” Shannon squeals as she shoves the door open, narrowly missing him. She either doesn’t see the bat in his hands, or refuses to mention it for whatever reason.
“Shannon?” I say, staring at my sister as she bounces into the ro
om and drops a bag on the ground. “Natalie!” She jumps onto the bed and leans over to hug me, but immediately shields her eyes and clears her throat.
Oh. Shit.
“Uhm, Nat? Honey?” she asks delicately through her hands. “Where are your clothes?”
I shriek in surprise and burrow under the blanket, desperately trying to ignore Keets’ amused chuckle. “Fuck. My. Life.”
“I’d say it’s already been fucked,” Stone’s booming laugh echoes around the room.
“Kill me, just kill me,” I fake cry, still hiding under the blanket.
“Nat come on, get dressed,” Shannon coaxes, grabbing the edge of the blanket and inching it down away from my face. I turn beet red when I see Stone standing there. “Get him out of here!” I screech, pulling the blanket back up over my head. “Out,” Shannon orders firmly. I wait until I hear the office door close before I sit up, tucking the blanket around my breasts as I lean over the side of the bed, grabbing my own bag and pulling out some fresh clothes. “I got wet,” I groan.
“I don’t need to know that,” Shannon exclaims with a laugh, slapping her hand back over her eyes to give me some privacy. I’m well aware Keets is still in the room, but he’s seen me naked and vulnerable, there’s no point in hiding from him now.
“Oh, my God. Shut up, bitch, you know what I meant.” I push the blanket back and pull on a pair of black shorts and a pink tank top before whipping my hair up into a high ponytail on the top of my head. “I’m decent now.”
“Thank God,” Shannon says, removing her hand from her eyes with a grin. “I love you, sis, but I really don’t need to know about your sex life. Yours, either,” she adds, looking over her shoulder at Keets.
“Hey, what’d I do?” he complains.
She shakes her head with amusement and turns back to me, the smile dropping from her face. “Where is he?” she asks, referring, I assume, to her stepson.
Flawed (Blaze of Glory #2) Page 10
