Курок Дуглас Пенелопа

 

I snorted, realizing the breakfast he’d be back for was me.

 

P.S. Your phone is on the nightstand.

 

I crashed back on the bed, feeling my body tingle all over. He wrote me a note. I’d never gotten a love letter before, and that was totally one.

I couldn’t believe he had a Braille printer? Nice. With audiobooks and VoiceOver, I rarely read anything in Braille anymore, but if only to get little notes from him, I loved it.

What time was it? We were up so late, and if he wasn’t back yet, it must still be early. Didn’t he ever sleep?

My phone rang, and I reached over and grabbed it, hoping it was him.

“Hello?” I answered, sitting up and keeping the sheet wrapped around me.

“Winter?” Ethan blurted out. “What’s going on?”

I stilled, my smile falling. Why was he calling me?

I kind of wanted to have it out with him about those pictures, but I wasn’t in the mood yet.

“I can’t talk right now,” I told him. “I’ll call you later, though.”

“Why are there pictures of you online?” he barked, cutting me off. “Pictures of you with him?”

“What are you talking about?”

“At the Throwback last night!” he yelled. “There’s footage of you two kissing! People were taking pictures! Did he make you do it?”

What? Pictures… I don’t…

And then I remembered Will and I were dancing, Damon came up behind me, we started…

People were everywhere. All around us.

And my shoulders fell.

Winter Ashby sent Damon Torrance to jail for statutory rape, and now she’s crawling in bed with him, of age, and here was proof she was totally willing this time.

“How could I be so stupid?” I murmured.

In front of everyone.

But it was going to happen anyway, right? It was a small town. Eventually people would know we were together, and we’d have to deal with reactions, given our past.

“What is the matter with you?” he snapped like I was a child. “You had to know people were watching! You sent him to jail for rape. People were going to remember that. And now you’re making out with him? It makes you look…”

Like a liar. Yeah, I knew exactly how it made me look.

Sometimes I longed for the time where everything wasn’t recorded and broadcast for the world to see. Of course it looked bad.

And now the people who always maintained his innocence were emboldened more.

“He knew what he was doing,” Ethan continued. “How could you fall for it? Why would you let him touch you? Did you not know it was him again?”

I could hear the disbelief in his voice now.

Again.

“Some people were willing to believe you the first time, but now…” he said. “They’ll never believe he fooled you twice. I knew he was smart. I just didn’t think you were so dumb.”

I hung up on him, refusing to listen to it anymore. I didn’t do anything wrong. We didn’t do anything wrong.

We had a fucked-up start years ago, and we both spent years paying for it, but we were doing this. We wanted this.

I loved him.

And Damon didn’t plan that last night. He didn’t know they would take pictures. He wouldn’t have done that.

But part of me wondered.

Part of me doubted. He wouldn’t have done that, right?

He hadn’t said he loved me? He got me to say it. Twice.

Why hadn’t he said it back?

 

 

 

Damon

 

Present

 

Walking through the backdoor and Mikhail following, I downed the rest of the bottle of water and tossed it into the trash before dumping some food into his dish and letting him chow down before I headed down the hallway and through the foyer.

I brought my T-shirt to my nose as I climbed the stairs and sniffed. Cigarettes and sawdust. It was probably on my skin, too.

Eh, she’d deal with it.

I pulled the shirt off over my head and walked into the bedroom, tossing it on the floor. “I’m dirty and sweaty,” I said, kicking off my shoes, “but you’re just gonna have to roll with it.”

Leaving the light off, I put a knee down on the end of the bed and crawled up, dying to pin her hands above her head and kiss her until she was begging to get fucked.

But as I reached her side of the bed, it was empty.

“Winter?” I called.

I felt the bed, not finding her, so I reached over and turned on the lamp.

She wasn’t here. The sheets were rumpled and still warm, though.

“Winter?” I barked louder.

Dammit, girl…

I climbed off the bed and went into the bathroom and dressing room, finding them both empty. Leaving the room, I headed down to her bedroom and swung the door open, but she wasn’t there, either. My heart pumped harder, and I bit the corner of my mouth to keep my nerves in fucking check.

Maybe she was in the ballroom.

I walked to the railing, about to head down the stairs but saw Crane move across the foyer.

“Where is she?” I demanded.

He stopped and looked up, meeting my eyes.

But then dropped them again.

“Fuck you, where is she?” I snapped.

“A car picked her up,” he told me, looking like he really didn’t want to. “She said she’ll be at St. Killian’s and back in a couple days.”

“And you let her leave?”

He closed his mouth, averting my eyes. Why the fuck did I hire extra security if he was just going to let her come and go like that?

“It wasn’t my impression she was a prisoner, sir,” he said.

“Was it your impression that I might eat ice cream out of your skull for not telling me she was going?”

He tightened his lips.

“Was she upset?” I asked. Do you know that at least?

“She seemed troubled, yes,” he answered. “Said she just wanted to have some space to think.”

Think.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. When women think, shit didn’t go the way I wanted it to.

What the hell was she doing? I did what Rika told me to do. Almost. I got to work on something. I brought in a crew, we tore down that fugly fountain and built the one I had designed and planned, working day and night for two days, so she’d find it and explore it and hopefully love it.

Getting the message that she’d be at The Cove last night gave me hope, but nothing prepared me for how she just let it happen. How she was already ready when I showed up and for the first time, she let me touch her, without a guise or a fight.

It was fucking incredible, and for a little while, it was like the years in between when we were kids and now had never happened. Nothing existed except us, especially all the bullshit in between.

It was kind of a date. I kept her clothes on. Most of them.

But every time the spell started to fade, she let all that other shit back into her head, and I was getting kind of fucking sick of losing her.

She may or may not love me.

But it was becoming clear. She didn’t want me.

“Sir?” Crane called out, sounding on alert.

I looked up, the door opened, and men, some I had and hadn’t seen before walked in, all in suits and some with gloves.

I closed my eyes, sighing. “Fuck,” I mouthed.

My father stepped over the threshold, dressed in a black suit with a gray shirt, his dark eyes looking up and finding me instantly.

He was trying to get a hold of me last night, and I blew it off. He always gave me a long leash, but if he had to snap it, it fucking hurt.

“What do you want?” I asked, descending the stairs.

“Do you care?” he replied. And then he looked around. “Where’s your wife?”

I held his eyes. My father’s strength hadn’t dissipated with age. Although graying, his skin growing more wrinkled, and his voice getting raspy from all the years of cigars, he still had a very healthy appetite.

For everything.

Especially for making sure he had control over all in his domain.

Unfortunately, I never went according to plan and never would. I might not be any better than him, but we weren’t the same, either.

He waited another moment, but when I didn’t answer, because I already knew that he knew Ari wasn’t here and his grandchildren weren’t getting made, he flexed his jaw and jerked his chin, gesturing to me.

“Take him,” he told his men.

What?

They rushed me, taking my arms, digging their fingers into my shoulders, and I thrashed, throwing them off and growling. “Get the fuck off me!”

I tore away, shoving one of them in the chest. “Son of a bitch!” I yelled.

One grabbed my wrist again. I whipped it away and threw a punch, but more came from behind, and I looked to Mr. Crane who was already being held back, looking angry and helpless.

Gabriel paid for the security. He paid for everything. As much as my own team wanted to do something, they wouldn’t.

The backs of my legs were kicked in, my knees buckled, and I fell, coming down to the floor. Three men held me down, keeping me on my knees, one with his grip on the back of my neck.

In front of me, my father crouched down.

“And where’s the sweet, little bitch who’s twisting your head?” he asked. “Where is she?”

Winter.

I was suddenly glad she wasn’t here. Michael and Rika were no match for Gabriel, but she was safer with them than anyone if I wasn’t there.

“Your life was going to be blessed,” Gabriel told me. “All the money and pussy you could ever want, and all you had to do was follow a simple instruction.” His voice was eerily calm. “It wasn’t even that hard.”

He stood up, and the muscles in my shoulders stretched with someone holding my wrists behind me.

“I should’ve shipped your ass to Blackchurch ages ago,” he said. “We can lock you up still, though, can’t we? Give you some time to think.”

And then his hand smacked across my face, the sting something I was very used to. I gritted my teeth together.

“And I have all the time in the world,” he threatened.

No.

What the fuck did he mean?

“Maybe in a few weeks you’ll come around,” he mused. And then to his men, “Bring him.”

A few weeks. What the fuck?

They stood me up, barefoot and shirtless, and tightened a zip tie behind my back.

Everyone started to walk out, and I looked over at Crane, jerking my chin, knowing he knew I was referring to Winter and the dog and that he needed to take care of things.

But as everyone left, and the man behind me held on to me, an arm suddenly coming around my neck as the guy in back of me whispered in my ear.

“An eye for an eye, motherfucker,” he said.

And then a pain hit my side under my ribs, digging into my flesh as some kind of small blade pierced my skin.

I grunted, immediately feeling the blood drip out as I shot my gaze over my shoulder, seeing the asshole who did it.

Miles Anderson.

The guy who had Winter in his car when she was sixteen. The guy who also attacked Rika the same Devil’s Night I did.

Fuck. He worked for my father now?

“A few weeks,” he lamented, “more than enough time for us to find her and have some fun.”

I thrashed, growling as the pain seared my skin.

“She’s been fun to mess with these past couple of weeks,” he said. “As we waited for Gabriel to give us the go-ahead anyway.”

“Motherfucker,” I muttered, seething.

It was him, fondling her in the theater bathroom. Him and his buddies who snuck into the house that morning.

We should’ve taken so much more than a tooth from his skull all those years ago, son of a bitch.

But before I had a chance to fight, he came around and shot his knee into my stomach, sending me doubling over and coughing to catch my breath. He stuffed something into my mouth, forced me out the door, and into the back of one of the SUVs as I tried to whip out of his hold, but pain shot through me every fucking time I moved.

Ironically, that wasn’t the first time I’d been stabbed on that same side. This felt deeper, though.

I hit the floor, coughing, and I looked around for my father, but he must’ve been in another car.

As the SUV took off, I just prayed Michael and Rika would come through.

Keep her safe. Don’t leave her alone.

 

 

I stumbled around my old bedroom, throwing open curtains and peering outside. I tried to open the windows, but they were bolted shut.

Fucking asshole. What was I? Ten?

The driveway in front of my father’s house glowed with electric lanterns and headlights of sporadic cars coming and going, while men paced in black suits, some with flashlights behind the tree line but every one of them with a walkie-talkie, I was sure.

Even if I broke the window, I wouldn’t get far. I was sure Anderson would love another chance at a cheap shot, though.

I pulled the hand towel away from the scratch that asshole gave me, seeing the cloth soaked again. This was the third towel. It was still bleeding.

I blew out a breath, the hair on the back of my neck rising as heat spread over my skin. I charged away from the window, kicking a trunk sitting on my floor.

“Fuck,” I growled, tossing the towel off somewhere and grabbing a T-shirt from my dresser and pulling it on.

I had to get out of here. Soon, before I didn’t have any energy left. They hadn’t fed me all day, and no one had come to check on me. I knew there were guards outside my door, though. I was stopped as soon as I tried to leave earlier.

I should tell them I was bleeding. My father would get me a doctor.

As long as I got back in line, brought Arion back home, played the husband, and went to work for him.

I shook my head. Fuck him.

I was going to burn this place to the ground with him in it. If he was lucky.

I had to get out of here before anyone got to Winter. I was the only one who’d be able to keep her safe.

I blinked away the spots in my vision and headed into the bathroom, throwing my fist into the silver-framed mirror above the sink. Shards of glass spilled into the sink, and I grabbed a washcloth, wrapping it around a piece of glass and heading for my door.

I stumbled, though, the room spinning in front of me.

“What the fuck?” I gritted out, impatient.

The wound was bearable, but sweat covered my brow, and nausea rolled through my stomach. I blinked long and hard, but every time I opened my eyes, the room was getting blacker, like I was sinking deeper into a tunnel, the light at the end getting smaller and smaller. Blood slowly seeped through my black T-shirt and down my pants.

Fuck, this wasn’t good. I needed food. Or water. And the pain was fucking irritating.

I rubbed my eyes, but instead of moving for the door, I fell down on my bed, letting my head fall back.

The cool comforter felt like heaven, and I swung a leg up, trying to calm my breathing.

Just a minute. Just need to rest for one fucking minute.

I wasn’t sure if I fell asleep or how long I was asleep, but I opened my eyes with a start, the room pitch black and a body on top of me.

“Shhh,” the shadow said, her hand over my mouth.

What? Who was this?

I reached up, grabbing her and recognizing the feel of her hair and her head in my hands.

Oh, my God. You’ve got to be kidding me.

“Winter?” I blurted out. “What the fuck?”

“Shhh,” she hissed, pressing her hand down on me harder. “Be very quiet. They’re right outside the door.”

She was saving me?

“How did you get in here?” I asked.

She straddled me, her knee rubbing my wound, but I didn’t care. I took her in my arms and kissed her lips, her forehead, her cheek…

But then I shook her a little. “Hey, you left me,” I bit out.

“I came right back,” she said, her hands over mine. “I’m sorry. Michael was bringing me back, and that’s when we saw you being taken.”

She climbed off me and put her hands on me, helping me up.

“Are you…” She stopped, feeling my clothes. “This is wet. Are you bleeding?”

“How did you get in?” I demanded, ignoring her question and gritting my teeth against the pain as I stood up from the bed.

“When we saw what happened, we got everyone together. Banks told us there was crawl space in the wall, from the cellar to the attic.” She took my arm. “She’s downstairs with Michael and Kai, distracting your father.”

“The attic’s across the roof.” I took us toward the bathroom, knowing now how she got in. “You climbed across the roof?”

Jesus, fuck. And I was worried about getting to her before my father did.

She could’ve died. How could they be so stupid to bring her?

“Rika’s outside your bathroom window,” she said in a hushed voice. “Would you shut up now?”

Fine. She was already here. Damage was done. I’d deal with them later.

Walking into the bathroom, I shot a glance to my bedroom door behind me, making sure it was still closed and no one was onto us.

I stepped on top of the toilet, seeing the small window already propped up and Rika crouched down on the roof, waiting.

Where was Will? Why were the girls the ones doing this?

I could understand Kai not wanting to leave Banks alone with my father, but where the hell were Michael and Will?

I stepped back down and lifted Winter up, the slice in my side burning, but I maneuvered her through the window, Rika taking her arms and pulling her up.

I took short, shallow breaths, trying to tap down the nausea creeping up again. I was going to need some fucking stitches. Goddammit. I didn’t have time for this.

Hopping up on the toilet again, I planted my foot on the wall for leverage and shot up, digging my elbows into the windowsill and pulling myself forward on my arms while I slipped up and out.

“You okay?” Rika asked.

“Just go.”

I breathed hard, hearing her whisper instructions to Winter before they both found the ridge and began crawling it over to the attic window.

My leg was wet from the blood, but the night air chilled my skin, cooling me off and waking me up.

They would have to have a car nearby. Just five more minutes. I’d get to rest.

Following them over the roof and keeping low, I climbed through the circular attic window, falling in and crashing onto the floor.

Winter rushed over to me, touching my face.

The room was dark, but moonlight shone through, and I looked up, seeing not only Rika, but Alex standing there, too, all three women staring down at me.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I whined, holding my side and trying to get my feet under me.

“That’s how you thank three females who just saved your ass?” Rika remarked, sounding all too amused.

And then Alex tipped her chin at me, taunting, “Who’s your daddy?”

Winter snorted, and I just fixed a snarl on my face as I stood up. “Just get me out of here,” I told them. “And don’t tell anybody about this, for Christ’s sake.”