Belonging (24 page)

Analise was full-on sobbing now. He reached for her, but she put her hand up to ward him off. He was gutted. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to comfort the woman he loved. The woman whom
he’d
caused immense pain.

“I am truly sorry. Please forgive me, Analise.” Her head hung low, fingers twisting nervously together.

“I can’t have children,” she whispered.
What?

She looked up, her watery gaze meeting his. “I can’t have children. I thought you should know.”

He felt her pain as his own knifing sharply through his heart. He was sure he didn’t want to know, but had to ask nonetheless. As long as he had her, he didn’t give a damn that she couldn’t have kids, but this was a pivotal conversation to the future of their relationship.

“What happened?”

Taking a deep breath she was silent for so long, he didn’t think she’d continue. She refused to look at him, so he knew this would be bad. Really bad.
Fuck
. He thought back to what T told him about her being attacked. He forced himself to not react no matter what she told him.

“I was raped when I was eighteen. I was blitzed out of my mind on coke at the time of the attack and thought I had only been stabbed.” She laughed bitterly. “
Only
stabbed, right? A guy named Smitty happened upon me and saved me. I would have died if not for him. The doctors wanted to do a rape kit and I refused. Two months later I ended up back in the same ER with an ectopic pregnancy and a lost fallopian tube. They told me the other was severely damaged in the attack and that I wouldn’t likely have children.”

Savage rage and brutal agony boiled within him. All he saw was a haze of red cloud his vision. He would find those responsible for this senseless attack and he would slowly flay the flesh from their bones before he worked his way from the outside in removing fingers, toes and limbs, taking care to painfully castrate them before pulling a Lorena Bobbit. Then he’d slit them open and gut them like the animals they were, leaving their entrails behind as a warning to all others who would cross his path.

He was so distracted planning every detail of his retribution for what they’d done to his mate that he almost missed what she said next.

“It was my fault.”

He could sit still no longer and flew off the table. He was shaking with such fury he didn’t trust himself to touch her until he calmed down.

“Analise. Listen to me. Rape is
never
a woman’s fault. I don’t care the circumstances under which it happened. It. Was. Not. Your. Fault.” Then he had a thought.

“Have you ever received counseling for this? Ever talked to anyone?”

She shook her head. So many things came together in that moment. She’d been abandoned by family after family, she’d lived a tough life alone on the streets, only to become a statistic. And she’d almost died. And because of all that, she didn’t think she was good enough for him. She still thought herself unworthy. He needed to get her to the shelter for some immediate counseling. As much as he wanted to think he could fix her, he couldn’t do it alone. He knew that now.

“Oh, baby.” He pulled her into his arms, stiff as a board. She cried into his tee, arms tightly at her sides. “I don’t care if you can’t have children, Analise. I don’t care. All I need is you. And I still love you, no matter what happened in the past.” Sobs poured from her, his shirt now soaked with her grief and misplaced guilt. She finally softened and while she didn’t wrap her arms around him, she did lean her body into his for support.

Minutes later she stiffened again and he let her go.

“I need some time to think.” His heart sunk, his dreams crushing under the heavy weight of it. After all he’d said it didn’t matter. She was going to leave him anyway.

Because they were fated, their bodies may crave each other, but that didn’t mean she had to love him. She had to give that gift freely. Raw possessiveness roared through him. He would
not
let her go. No matter her decision. He would spend eternity earning her forgiveness and getting her to admit her love for him. No, he would not let her go, but he would give her time to think.

“Fair enough. But you’ll stay here. I’ll leave for a couple hours. I have some things to take care of anyway.” He didn’t, as he’d worked his ass off earlier getting his business done so he could spend the day making love to her. When he leaned in to kiss her lips she turned her head away.
Fuck me.
He made his way to the front door, talking to Sebastian before turning back to Analise.

“Please don’t leave the penthouse, kitten. You’re not a prisoner here, but you are still very much in danger and I’d prefer you here where you are safe.” She nodded slightly. He pinned her eyes with his. “We are meant for each other and you know it. Don’t throw it away because I made a foolish mistake with honorable intentions. I meant it when I told you I would always protect you and your heart. You may not always agree with my methods, but anything I do is out of my intense love for you and absolute need to make you happy.”

Without another look back, he walked out, leaving her to her thoughts. He only hoped he wasn’t making the biggest mistake of his life by giving her space. Analise was her own worst enemy and right now she could talk herself out of the Hope Diamond if she tried hard enough.

C
hapter
33

Analise

The second Damian closed the door she knew she’d made a mistake. She sagged into the couch in despair. She was hard wired to vet the bad in people. It’d been engrained day after day, year after year until it was now second nature. Can’t teach an old dog new tricks? That phrase was coined after her. Her mind wandered to a time long ago.

Why are you taking me back there? “Because I can’t afford the food you shovel in your mouth.”
She would eat less next time.

Why can’t I stay? “Sorry, kiddo. My kids don’t like you.”
She’d be quieter next time.

I don’t understand why you won’t keep me. “Because you’re an unlovable, ungrateful brat.”
She’d heard it enough, so it must be true.

“Sorry kiddo. You’ll be fine. I’m sure you’ll find a great family.” I’m sorry. I’ll do better. I promise.
She wasn’t fine and she never found a great family.

Reject, reject, reject.
So she did the only thing she could to emotionally survive.
Protect, protect, protect.
Brick after brick she built her castle, complete with reinforced steel doors, armored guards and a moat. And she hid in the corner of the deep, dark dungeon so no one would find her. Where she was safe.

Then she met Damian. And in a matter of minutes, the guards disappeared, the moat evaporated and the mortar began to crumble under the burdensome weight of her loneliness. She was left unprotected, vulnerable and scared shitless. Damian had woven a sensual spell around her that she couldn’t escape. If she were honest with herself, she’d been looking for a way out since the very first second they’d met and at the first inkling of duplicity, she dove head first out the door. Literally.

But his challenge held true and that stung. If he’d asked, she wouldn’t have told him the truth about her past. Hell to the no. As far as she was concerned, that door was locked, the key long lost. The harder he pushed to know her, the harder she leaned against the door, afraid the rusty lock would shatter under his pressure.

His explanation about her sisters made logical sense. Of course, he wouldn’t tell her anything until her DNA was verified. No need to pile crushing disappointment on top of crushing disappointment. She should have confronted him instead of assuming the worst and trying to run. She ran so hard and fast from people one would think she was an ultra-marathoner. Sadly, her butt and thighs didn’t reflect her efforts.

She was a fool’s fool. She’d felt Damian’s love in every command, every question, every action. She didn’t know this man at all, yet she did to the bottom of her soul. She trusted him, as was evident by the fact she’d spilled her deepest, most shameful secret. She’d never told another living soul the entire truth of that horrible night and subsequent weeks, not even Beth.

Randomly, one of her favorite songs, “Mirrors”, popped into her head. Who translated feelings and emotions into a song better than Justin Timberlake? Damian was her mirror. Her soul reflected back when she looked into his eyes. Two damaged souls that, by themselves, were full of cracks and crevices, but when overlaid on the other, all cracks vanished like they’d never existed and all crevices now overflowed with bursting love.

She thought back to the words Damian spoke which simultaneously destroyed and repaired her heart.
“And how can I know how to put you back together again if I don’t know what broke you in the first place?”
No one had ever spoken sweeter words. And then she sent him away. Bitter tears bit at her eyes at the horrible mistake she’d just made.

Suddenly, she felt exhausted, even at this early hour. She was so very tired of the heavy burden she’d been carrying around by herself. She was a snowball rolling downhill, fresh snow hitching a ride until it became unwieldy and out of control, unstoppable. Everyone jumped out of the way or risked being crushed. But not Damian. Damian stepped directly in front of the raging snowball and under his command it’d melted.

She lay on the couch and let sleep pull her under, praying when she woke that Damian would be there, holding her in his arms and able to forgive her incessant need to push people away.

It was time to stop running in the wrong direction.

________

She was there again. In the same room Beth occupied last time. Only it was empty. Blood stained the thin, flat, pale yellow mattress. There was a bucket in the corner she hadn’t seen before. Feces floated on top of yellow liquid.
Oh God.
She felt like vomiting, adding to the putrid mixture. Could she vomit in her dreams too? She didn’t want to find out.

She wondered what to do next. Would she be able to leave this room? What went on in this horrid place? How many others were here?

Frustrated, she closed her eyes and visualized herself outside this room, but it didn’t work. What good was being half vampire, half witch if she didn’t have any goddamn powers! She’d have to talk to Damian about that.

Suddenly she remembered her dreams of her mother.

“Concentrate Analise,” demanded Mara. “Everything here is simply energy and you are the conduit. You control it. It bends to your will and only your will. You want a fire? Start a damn fire. You want that candle lit? Make it so. If that oak tree is in your way, don’t go around it, move it instead. You are powerful. You are commanding.”

She had moved objects with her mind in her dreams with Mara. Countless times. At first it was the smallest of things. A pencil, a feather, a piece of paper. Over the years, they gradually increased the complexity of her tasks until she was moving houses, starting raging fires and digging holes thousands of feet deep.

Could she do it here too? There were only two objects with which she could try. The bucket in the corner, doubling as a toilet, and the thin mattress that lay on the hard floor. The mattress was the safer play. Listening to her mother’s words, she closed her eyes, visualizing the mattress lifting just an inch or two off the cold cement floor. When she opened them, she nearly laughed out loud with joy.

Hovering in front of her was the mattress, but nearly a foot off the ground. The doorknob turning caused her to lose control and the mattress flopped back to the ground with a soft thud. Oh God, she hoped the person on the other side hadn’t heard.

In walked an undeniably gorgeous, but monstrous vampire, an unconscious Beth in his arms. Oddly, he laid her carefully on the mattress and pressed a reverent, lingering kiss on her forehead before turning to leave, whispering that she’d be okay. After he was gone, she called Beth’s name but there was no response. She concentrated, hearing Beth’s soft breathing and the blood pumping through her veins. The last part freaked her the hell out, which was her last thought before she was ripped from her dream.

She lay there for several minutes reflecting on what had just happened. In her dreams, she was powerful. In her dreams, she had control. In her dreams maybe, just maybe, she could help Beth herself. But
how
?

Sitting up she looked around the living room, disappointment made her heart sink. No sign of Damian. The clock showed that it was only ten thirty. Damian had been gone only an hour, but it felt like days. If she knew his number, she’d call begging him to return. She supposed she could ask Sebastian, who was probably dutifully stationed outside the door.

Opening the door, two large vampires stood there, blankly gazing down at her. Neither of them was Sebastian. “How can I help you, ma’am?” Biggie one asked.

“I…I was just looking for Sebastian,” she mumbled.

“He’ll be back shortly, ma’am.”

“Oh. Okay. Thanks.” She quickly shut the door. And then locked it for good measure.
Like a locked door would keep a vampire out, Analise.

To kill time, she decided to shower. She needed one anyway after two rounds of deliciously hot sex. Making her way back up to the master bathroom, she stripped out of her dirty clothes, and eventually stepped under the hot spray of the largest shower she’d ever been in. There were eight showerheads hitting her in all directions. It had taken her five minutes to figure out how to use them and adjust the water temperature. She’d managed to practically scald her skin off at one point. Who knew she’d need a damn owner’s manual to work a shower, for God’s sake.

She lingered for nearly half an hour, enjoying the feel of the massaging jets on her shoulders and back. After toweling off, she decided she had no choice but to dig into some of the clothes that Damian had somehow procured for her. She felt uncomfortable wearing such expensive things, but it was either that or run around naked, and while the thought of sitting in her birthday suit on the buttery couch waiting patiently for Damian to return sounded somewhat appealing, she didn’t dare in case someone else walked through the door instead. Like Sebastian.