The Damaged Heroes Collection [Box Set #1: The Damaged Heroes Collection] (BookStrand Publishing Mainstream)

by James, Sandy

  Taking a quick look around the kitchen, Janos shoved open the back door and hurried Lucas up the stairs to Joy’s apartment. Then he decided it might be best to have a frank discussion about circumstances before Lucas made any more stupendous errors that would bring Joy more trouble with her parents. “You need to understand something. My father won’t be pleased to see you with Joy. Not in the least.”

  Lucas’s furrowed brow showed his confusion, but his hard stare also told Janos that Lucas was getting angry. “Why not?”

  Such a simple question. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a simple answer. Janos stopped for a moment to think of how to explain things in a way Lucas could understand. “Hasn’t Joy told you about the restaurant?”

  “Of course. She loves working here.”

  Janos shook his head and marveled at the man’s ignorance. No wonder he stood there as calm as a lamb being led to slaughter. Joy hadn’t told him...anything. She hadn’t warned Lucas of the repercussions of an outsider falling in love with her, and this poor, oblivious guy was in love with Joy.

  “But she does love working here, she told me—”

  “She doesn’t work here, numbnuts,” Janos interrupted. “She owns this place. Or at least she will once Papa thinks she’s ready.”

  “You can stop with the names anytime now, dickhead,” Lucas said with the irritation plain in his voice.

  Janos had to respect the man standing up for himself. His opinion of Lucas rose a couple of notches, knowing that kind of no-nonsense attitude would be necessary in his future dealings with the Kovacs clan. “Sorry. Bad habit Joy keeps telling me I need to shake every time I called her ‘shortstuff.’”

  “Fine. I’d hate for us to get off on the wrong foot. Back to Joy. I thought she was an artist,” Lucas said.

  “You know she’s an artist. I know she’s an artist. But to our father, she’s going to be the owner of Gypsy. Just like all of our brothers. Didn’t she tell you about being Romungro?”

  Lucas nodded. “Of course. She told me she was a gypsy when she read my palm. So? I’m part English, part French, and part mutt. Why does it matter? We’re all American. Ethnic diversity’s in.”

  “But being Romungro’s so much more than just being diverse. It’s a way of life. It’s a heritage.” Janos sighed. “And sometimes a burden.”

  Lucas just stared at Janos for a few moments not understanding any of the riddles in the man’s words. “A burden?”

  “There are...expectations for Jozsa. Our family expects her to honor the traditions, to pass on the customs.”

  “And why won’t she?” Lucas asked. God, he’d grown tired of feeling ignorant. He hadn’t expected Bela’s heated reaction when they met. He still wasn’t sure why Joy had practically run away this afternoon, and none of what Janos told him about gypsies and their families made any sense. He wondered if he’d ever understand Joy’s world. Everyone has relatives. So what? “I wouldn’t stop her, so why wouldn’t Joy pass on gypsy traditions?”

  “Oh, she will. I know her, and she’ll make sure her kids know her culture. But our father expects those children to be... Well, he expects them to be Romungro.”

  Lucas sure didn’t like the sympathetic look in Janos’s eyes, and warning flags were rising all over the place.

  “That’s ridiculous,” Lucas said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “She’s Romungro, so her children will be Romungro.”

  Janos shook his head in reply, and Lucas felt a tight knot form in the pit of his stomach as a sickening understanding began to dawn on him. He only hoped he had leapt to the wrong conclusion. Certainly Bela Kovacs couldn’t be that old-fashioned. Could he? After all, this was the twenty-first century. But the terrifying thought just hung there, dangling in front of Lucas and taunting him. He had to ask. “He expects her to have full-blooded Hungarian children, doesn’t he?”

  “You got it. Archaic, ain’t it? My father still thinks we’re in the old country. And you? You’re just a gadjo to him.”

  “What’s a gadjo?”

  Janos looked contrite. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called you that.”

  “Janos, what in the hell’s a gadjo?”

  “An outsider. Someone who’s not in our circle. Papa demands she marry a Romungro. It’s odd considering he wasn’t even born in Hungary. He’s American by birth.”

  “Then why? Why would he expect...” Lucas stopped talking as the whole picture suddenly came into focus, making his stomach clench and his head throb. “It’s that other guy, isn’t it? That shithead...um...that Thomas guy. He wants her with that Thomas guy. He’s a gypsy too.”

  “Yes, Lucas. He wants me with Tamas,” Joy replied from behind him, causing him to stand at attention out of reflex.

  He whirled around to face her and was taken by surprise by the pain he saw in her eyes.

  “Janos, can you give us a minute?” she asked. “Please?”

  Janos nodded. As he left the apartment, he patted Lucas on the back, and Lucas had no idea what to make of that. Was it encouragement or commiseration?

  Joy took Lucas’s hands and led him to the couch where she pushed him to take a seat. He obliged her, feeling a bit weak in the knees and more than a little dull-witted.

  “Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?” he finally found the composure to ask.

  She reached up to caress his cheek with those soft fingers. He loved how she so freely expressed her affection whenever she was with him. Joy never played stupid games that made him guess her feelings. But behind that affection dwelled a sadness in her brown eyes that did little to stop the knots that were twisting his insides.

  “There was really nothing to tell. I mean, not until today.”

  “At least now I know why your father looked at me like I was some scumbag from America’s Most Wanted.” Her father saw Lucas as a mangy shelter mutt trying to sniff after a pure-bred show dog. Shit.

  “He doesn’t understand. His world is so...so...different.”

  She took a deep breath that set Lucas on edge. This wasn’t going to be easy for her which meant the story wouldn’t be something he wanted to hear. But for her, he’d listen anyway.

  “Many of my relatives died in the Holocaust. Several more were murdered by the Hungarian government after the war. My father has felt their ghosts chasing at his heels since he was born. His father, my grandfather, survived and eventually came to America with his wife, but he’d already lost most of his family. Both of his parents died in a death camp. Two of his brothers were killed when they stayed behind in Hungary, just because they were gypsies.”

  Lucas grasped at the fragments of his memories from school for anything he’d heard about the Nazis, but he didn’t find much. He had spent more time with horses and staring at pretty girls than studying in high school, especially in history class. “I thought it was Jewish people killed in the concentration camps.”

  Joy shook her head. “Not just Jews, although they probably suffered the most. There were people from every nation, every religion, and many, many gypsies. Roma, Romungro. From Hungary, Romania, Bulgaria. They were sent to the camps too. My grandfather beat into all of our heads how important it was to always remember what they suffered. Always. To make sure the Romungro continued, so we wouldn’t be wiped off the face of the earth.”

  “And he wanted all of you to marry other gypsies,” Lucas said as the dread he’d been feeling enveloped him like a straight-jacket. He couldn’t breathe.

  “Papa just preaches what he believes, the same gospel he was taught from birth. My older brothers all married Romungro women. They’re all raising families in the traditions.” Lucas could see sadness in her eyes again, so strong he could feel his gut tightening some more. “Janos and I... We want something different for our lives. Papa might even allow Janos to choose a different career. But me? No way. I’m... I’m a special case.”

  Lucas arched an eyebrow, not understanding what she was trying to tell him.

  “My brothers are importa
nt, but it was their choice of wives that really mattered to the family. A gypsy woman is the one who continues the race. The bloodline comes from her. From me. As far as my family’s concerned, I can only marry another Romungro.”

  He closed his eyes for a moment to absorb what he’d heard.

  No. No. No. This was just another nightmare. She couldn’t mean it. If she did... Well, then... Then I will lose her.

  “Lucas?”

  Lucas reached out and took her hand in his. Her fingers felt surprisingly cold despite the summer heat. It was obvious that this conversation distressed her, and he wished there was some way to make the trial of explaining easier. He wondered if the telling was as traumatic as the ordeal of hearing what she had to say. “I’m sorry I came here tonight. I didn’t want to make your father angry.”

  “It’s all right. He... he doesn’t know you’re here.”

  Discrimination. The word kept sounding in Lucas’s head. That’s what this was, simple and pure discrimination. How ironic for a white male to feel like he was on the outside looking in. The concept would have been even more foreign if it hadn’t been for his time in Iraq, watching on a daily basis the differences in how people were treated based solely on their ethnicity, their gender, or their religion. Now he understood the frustration, the helplessness of being hated simply because of who and what he was. Surely Joy didn’t feel the same, didn’t think Lucas was below her. “Are you ashamed of me, Jozsa?”

  She appeared surprised at the question, but Lucas didn’t know how else to interpret the fact that Janos had hurried him up the stairs so damn fast. And if what she had told him was all true, he would never be accepted by her family. Never. They could only see each other if they lied and snuck around like a couple of sixteen-year-olds disobeying their parents.

  “I’m not ashamed of you. Not for an instant. This isn’t about you.”

  He shook his head before she stopped talking. “You’re wrong. It is about me. I can’t change who I am. I can’t be the man your family wants for you.” Lucas took a deep breath, trying to grasp calm he really didn’t feel. He’d known how he felt about her for a while. It was ludicrous to think he’d fallen for her so quickly, especially after Lisa’s betrayal. But Joy made what he’d ever felt for Lisa, for any other woman, a pale shadow. Now that he had finally found love, real love, it might be snatched away from him. And Lucas was afraid there wasn’t much he could do to stop it.

  He had to tell Joy how he felt before she made any important choices about her life or her family. How could he tell her he loved her and not scare her away by coming on too strong, too fast? But if he didn’t tell her, she might never know.

  Lucas took another steadying breath, then, with carefully chosen words, he took a terrifying leap of faith. “I... I want to be with you. I need to be with you.” The soft glow from her eyes told him she felt the same. She didn’t need to utter a word to explain; he knew she cared for him. “But that means your father will be really unhappy.”

  Joy chuckled, but it wasn’t a humorous sound. Her lips quivered as if she would cry at any moment. “Oh, he’ll be a hell of a lot more than unhappy. No one in our family has ever gone against his wishes. And he wants me to...” She let the words hang between them as she looked away.

  Lucas felt his heart pounding a hard, frantic beat, remembering what obstacle stood between them. He couldn’t lose her, damn it. Not now. “Like you said before, he wants you to marry Tamas.”

  Joy let her gaze wander back to his. “Yes. He wants me to marry Tamas.”

  “And will you?” Lucas asked, oddly terrified of the answer and at the same time sure she cared for only him.

  Luckily, the reply wasn’t long in coming. “No, Szivem. I’ll never marry Tamas.”

  He let the breath he was holding leave in a gasp. Thank God. Joy gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, but her fingers were still as cold as ice.

  “I need to get back to the restaurant. We’re catering a wedding rehearsal dinner for the mayor’s daughter, and Papa will miss me.” She dropped his hand, stood up, and smoothed her long skirt.

  Lucas got to his feet and immediately tugged her into his arms. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart. I... I don’t want to come between you and your father.”

  “It’s my choice. I’ll deal with my father.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and rubbed her cheek against his chest. “It’ll be all right. Somehow, it will be all right.”

  Stroking her soft hair, Lucas tried to gain hold of his turbulent thoughts. He’d turned this woman’s life into a damn Shakespearean tragedy, forcing her to choose between him and her family. It didn’t seem fair. She’d done so much for him and this was how he repaid her.

  Joy looked up at Lucas with those beautiful brown eyes. “I need to go.” She raised herself to her toes to touch a quick kiss to his lips. “Wait a few minutes then go out the back. I’ll come to our house when I can. Just as soon as I’m able.” Her mouth brushed his again then she broke their embrace and hurried out of the apartment.

  Lucas watched her leave as his heart clenched with fear. Joy would have to decide. One day soon, she would have to make a choice that could change her life. Our lives. What hurt the most was that he wasn’t sure if she would choose him. Even knowing how she felt about him, that she cared for him, he had no right to expect her to destroy her relationship with her family because of his feelings for her. After all, he figured from her perspective, they barely knew each other.

  Think about what you’re asking of her, Lucas.

  He sat back down on the couch, and two cats immediately joined him. Petting them for a few moments, he contemplated what he should do. Then he saw the crumpled drawings lying on the carpet. Drawings of him.

  Joy’s father. Bela already knew they were together, and Joy would suffer because of it. Lucas checked over his shoulder and saw the bare wall where the collage of his own face had been. Then he glanced at the stack of pages on the coffee table. Grief poured through him at the thought that perhaps Joy had taken the sketches down to please the old man.

  Now what?

  As a third cat jumped up to purr and rub against him, Lucas sat and contemplated his choices.

  The first was easy. I could just walk away. Joy wouldn’t be faced with any decision if he simply left her in peace. She might even welcome the agonizing choice being taken away from her.

  But there was simply no way he would be able to make himself stay away. And it wasn’t because of what had passed between them that afternoon. Lucas had already decided that he wouldn’t use her like that again. This wasn’t about sex, and he feared that’s what she saw their encounter as—just sex, not making love. What he felt for Joy was something different, something much deeper and much more enduring. She might not feel it as strongly. Not yet. But he was positive in his love for her.

  Lucas felt the corners of his mouth bowing into a grin as he thought about his other choice. I’ll win them over. He would find a way to get her family to change their minds. He’d find a way to get her father to accept him. Somehow.

  Already sure that Janos was on his side, Lucas decided to do whatever he had to so that Joy’s parents would allow her to see him. And he’d enlist Janos’s help in setting up a plan of action. He’d get Brian and Samantha’s help, too. Seth and Katie as well, if they were willing.

  His tentative grin became a full-blown smile as he thought about the things he could do to stay close to Joy. Her father would see that they belonged together, that Lucas would let Joy be who she was and what she was and not take her away from her culture.

  Yes, the old Lucas was back. With a vengeance. The proud Lucas who had goals and dreams and aspirations for the future. The obstinate Lucas who always got his way.

  The caring Lucas who knew how to love.

  Giving each of the cats an affectionate pat or two, he put them aside and flipped through the stack of pictures resting on the coffee table. The one that caught his eye showed him standing next to the barn as it was being
built by the Amish. He had his hands on his hips and a determined look in his eyes. My “stubborn” face.

  Grabbing a couple of thumbtacks from the end table, Lucas hung the picture on the wall, wondering if Joy would understand the significance. Would she know that he was trying to tell her just how damned determined he was that they be together? Because that’s exactly what he was.

  Damned determined.

  Chapter 14

  Janos let a sly smile cross his lips. Lucas was back. Again. Not that Janos hadn’t expected the pesky guy to be waiting for him.

  For two weeks, he had been there every day Janos went to open the front doors to Gypsy at four-thirty in the afternoon. Like clockwork. Lucas sometimes came alone, but more often than not, he brought someone with him who he wanted to “introduce to Hungarian cooking.” He always told Janos the restaurant’s opening time was perfect because most people who worked at the racetrack needed to be at the track early on race nights.

  The whole situation had become highly amusing, something to look forward to each workday instead of the same old food business, the same old customers. On several of the visits, Lucas dined with a couple of pretty women and two toddlers.

  The ladies seemed intent upon watching every move Joy made. They would chat with her whenever she stopped at their table, and Janos could tell there was genuine friendship blossoming between the three women. And while they talked, Lucas would stare intently at Joy. He didn’t say much, but then again, the women didn’t give him much of a chance. Between waiting on them, bringing their meals, playing with the toddlers, and chatting away about all sorts of things, Joy stayed well occupied.

  Lucas might not have talked to Joy, but he’d made the mistake of constantly trying to raise conversations with Bela. Janos knew his father wasn’t stupid, and there was no doubt Bela knew exactly what Lucas was up to. But a stubborn and obviously lovesick Lucas didn’t seem deterred in the least.