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Authors: Kasey Millstead

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CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

 

Damon sat his ass on the cold cement floor of his cell, his back resting up against the unforgiving metal frame of his bed.  His thoughts drifted to the emotional clusterfuck life had recently handed him.  The look on Scarlett’s face when he revealed the rest of his story kept playing through his mind like a black and white film.  The raw horror on her face, the confusion in her eyes, the tears rolling down her cheeks in thick, round droplets.  Damon lifted his hand and used his palm to rub away the ache that had developed in his chest.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Damon wasn’t prepared for the onslaught of feelings that would come with the knowledge of having his daughter exposed to his deepest, darkest, most brutal truths.  Had Damon known it was
his
Scarlett sitting across from him every second Sunday, no fucking way would he have bared himself so openly.  Many times over the years, confined in the silence of his cell, he had debated on what he would share should the time ever come that he his daughter would come looking for him, wanting answers, wanting facts.  Damon never had a solid answer, but he knew without doubt he didn’t want the darkness of his past casting shadows on his daughter’s light.

But now, she knew.

She knew fucking everything.

And it killed Damon more than he could begin to fathom.

“FUCK!”
Damon roared, slamming his fist down onto the concrete.  Sharp pain shot up his arm, so he hit the ground again and again.  An onslaught of feelings consumed him and confused him.

“Salt!” a guard barked, drawing him from his meltdown.  “Keep it down.”

Damon bared his teeth at the guard and then turned his furious gaze to the wall across from him.  Needing to direct the bolts of anger that roared through his veins to something more positive than self-destruction, Damon shifted himself into the center of the room and did crunches until he was dripping with sweat and panting for breath.  When he was done, he wiped his hands and face with a towel, then sat on his bed with a pen and a piece of paper torn from his notebook.  The words didn’t come fast or easy, but finally, they came.

 

Scarlett,

I’m sitting here in my cell, trying to find the words I need to write this letter and I’m coming up blank. 

Sorry isn’t a word I’ve used often in my life.  I can’t remember the last time I was truly sorry, before I found out who you were.  The women I’ve killed, the rapes, the thefts… all of that… I never felt sorry about.  Not really.  To me, it was something I had to do to feed the demon that lived inside of me.  Many times over the years, I’ve wondered if I’d had been the one to kill my parents, would my life have taken the road I did.  Or would the monster inside me be satiated.  I’ll never know.

I wish I’d known who you were before I confessed to my crimes in such an honest and open way.  Deep down, I know all you’d have to do is research me and you’d find everything out anyhow, but I also know it must have hurt you to hear it straight from me.  A small part of me is also somewhat glad that you know the God’s honest truth.  I’m not sure, because I’ve never had the opportunity or inclination to search, but I imagine some of the details that reporters have written over the years have been sensationalized.  At least now you know the truth, and if you do ever come across an article about me, you’ll know what’s truth and what isn’t.

If I’m honest, I think I always knew I’d end up in prison.  I didn’t care, either.  Sometimes feeding the monster inside of me was more effort than I thought it was worth, but I couldn’t hold back.  I couldn’t starve him because I knew he wouldn’t die.  Killing Sandra wasn’t part of my plan. Believe it or not, I wanted you to have a good life, a life with love, a life I hadn’t had.  I wanted that for you.  For all my faults, I think that’s my greatest praise.  Knowing you had what I desperately wanted for you has made me the most at peace I’ve ever been.

For what it’s worth, I am sorry, Scarlett.  I’m sorry you lost your mom, and that I was the one who took her away from you.  I’m sorry your father is a criminal serving life in prison.  I’m sorry you found out the way you did.  Until recently, I wasn’t a man of feelings.  I haven’t felt anything but numb for a long-ass time.  Now, I have all these feelings assaulting my body and I’m not sure how to begin to handle them.  I know, without reservation, that I am goddamn sorry you’re hurting, Scarlett.  It makes my chest pain, thinking about how much hurt you’re going through, and for that, I’m sorriest of all. 

More than anything else, I just want you to know you were loved.  Your mother and I, we loved you.  She didn’t get a choice in the matter, but when it came down to it, I did all I could to selflessly show you that love.  I don’t expect you to recognize that now, but I hope one day you do.

If the time ever comes when you feel you have the strength, get in contact with Barnaby Straus.  He’s my lawyer, and he also has the location of the box I’ve wanted you to have for all these years.  Maybe looking through the contents of that box will alleviate any doubts you may have about how much Sandy and I loved you.

I wish you nothing but happiness, Scarlett.  Live free, and love freely.

Damon.

***

“What is it you need, Salt?” Prison Guard Aden West asked.

“A favor,” Damon replied gruffly.

West cocked a suspicious brow at the inmate. 

“Heard through inmate dot com the other day that you’re seeing Scarlett.”  Damon’s admission piqued West’s interest and he scowled in his direction.

“What’s it to you?” West asked sharply, not giving the prisoner any indication his gut was clenching to the point of strangulation.

“Not wanting to make trouble, West.  Don’t know how serious things are between you, don’t care either.  Just wanted you pass on something for me.”

“Why should I do that for you?  My woman is hurting because of your actions, Salt.”

“Never wanted her to find out the way she did,” Damon interjected, but West kept talking.

“So, you tell me why the fuck I should subject her to more of the emotional torture I bet you just love handing out?” West snarled.

“Because I’m hoping the letter I want you to give to her, will give her some damned closure,” Damon barked.  “For fuck’s sake, West, she was my kid! I never intentionally hurt a hair on her pretty little fucking head.”

“But, you did, Salt.  You
did
hurt her.  No one
made
you rape and kill those women.  No one
made
you drain the life from her mother’s eyes while she sat in the family room watching television, did they?” West sneered.

“And I’m fucking sorry for that!” West exploded.  “I’m fucking sorry,” he repeated, softer this time.  “Fuck! 
Fucking hell!”
Damon spun around and slammed his fist into the wall of his cell, roaring with anger.  West stood silently, watching on, his feet placed shoulder width apart, his arms crossed intimidatingly across his chest, a scowl twisting his lips.

After Damon had calmed down, West waited until the prisoner looked at him.  “Give it to me,” he demanded.

Damon walked over and lifted the thin mattress from his bed before retrieving the folded letter.  He moved the three steps to where West stood and held it out to him.

West took the paper from Damon and immediately opened it right there in front of him.  Damon didn’t object; he had expected the guard to do as much.

As West scanned the letter, Damon stood there watching, waiting.  Finally, West folded the paper and slipped it in the pocket of his pants.  Directing his eyes to Damon, he gave him a sharp nod.  “I’ll see that she gets it.”

“Thank you,” Damon said, his voice gruff once again.  His shoulders sagged with relief. 
Thank fuck
.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

 

Checking myself out in Aden’s mirror, I fluffed my blonde hair and pouted at my reflection.  After I added another swipe of gloss to my lips, I took in my deep blue knitted turtleneck that had sparkly thread woven through it, and my almost black skinny jeans that did fabulous things to my ass.  I pulled on my knee-high black leather boots and deemed myself acceptable.  Once I walked out of Aden’s bathroom, I spritzed on some perfume and moved to where the man of my dreams was leaning up against the kitchen counter.  He wore a pair of faded Levi’s that were scuffed around the hem where they fell over his boots, and a black button down hid the glorious muscles of his torso.

“You look…
edible
,” I said in what I hoped was a seductive voice.

“Keep it up, sweetheart, and we won’t be going to dinner,” he growled.

“Hmm, I’m not hungry anyhow,” I lied.  I was starving, but I was hungrier for Aden than I was for food.

“Turn around,” he ordered.  I complied, and then smirked when I heard him draw in a sharp breath.  “
Fuck
, that ass of yours, baby.”  As he said the words, he clutched my flesh and tugged my body back into his so I could feel the evidence of his impressive arousal pressing against my back.  I rubbed against him, unable to resist.  Then my cell rang.  It was right next to me on the counter and I automatically glanced down to see Ella’s name lighting up my screen.  It was then I remembered Aden and I were on our way to
Q Bar and Grill
for a double date with Ella and Will. 

“Later,” Aden promised as I sighed and then hit the green button to accept Ella’s call.

“Hey, Els, we’re leaving now.  We won’t be long.”

“Thank God!  I just arrived and Will’s not here yet.  I’m sitting at the table like a fucking loner,” she grumbled.

“Okay, babe.  Hang tight, order a drink, and play on your phone or something.  We’ll be there soon.”

I hung up and grabbed my purse from the couch.  “Ready?” I asked Aden.

He nodded.  “You go first.”  For a split second, I thought he was being a gentleman.  Then he opened his mouth again.  “I want to watch that ass of yours in those jeans at every opportunity.”

“You’re insatiable,” I threw over my shoulder as I stepped into the elevator.

“Only when it comes to you, sweetheart.”

“Good.”  He touched his lips softly to mine, swiping across my gloss with his tongue, drawing a moan from my throat.  “Cherries,” he whispered, tasting the flavor of my lip gloss.

“You like cherries?” I whispered.

“Fuckin’ love them,” he whispered back hoarsely and then his mouth took mine deeper.

***

When Aden and I walked into
Q Bar and Grill
, he went to the bar to order us a drink, while I looked around for Ella.  I found her sitting at a table, nursing a margarita at the back of the sectioned-off restaurant area. 

“Hey, girlfriend.  You look hot,” she said as I approached.

“Not so bad yourself, gorgeous.”

“Is Aden here?”

I nodded.  “He’s at the bar getting drinks.  You want a refill?” 

She shook her head to my question and then asked, “Will didn’t come with you, did he?”

“No, honey,” I replied gently.  “I’m sure he’ll turn up soon.”  I gave her a smile that she thankfully returned.

“Enough about him, let’s talk about how well your Thanksgiving inspired cupcake range is doing!  I can’t believe we sold out of the pumpkin spice ones before lunch today.”  It was true.  It had been two weeks since Thanksgiving, and since I returned to work, I had introduced a new flavor of cupcakes to the display case every day, each one related in some way to the holiday. 

“I know. I’m pretty amazed, actually.  I think I’ll continue on for a few more days, and then maybe I’ll start a Christmas inspired range,” I mused.

“Fantastic idea!” 

“Here, sweetheart,” Aden said as he placed a cocktail in front of me.

“Thanks, honey.”

We sat chatting for a few minutes until Ella announced that she needed to go the bathroom.  I stood up to go with her and then bent down to whisper in Aden’s ear.  “Can you call Will and see what’s up?”

He gave me a nod and kissed my cheek.

Ella and I used the facilities and then I fluffed my hair while she reapplied some gloss to her lips. 

“God, he infuriates me!” she snapped.

“Will?”

“He’s hot and cold, and I can’t fucking keep up,” she scowled.  “What kind of man arrives
late
to a double date?  He’s the one who freaking asked me to come, yet he didn’t offer to pick me up and now he’s all but stood me up. 
God!”
 

I let her get the rant out of her system and when she was done, we left the restroom.

“I’m going to the bar.  You want another drink?”

Thinking of the almost full cocktail I’d left at our table, I shook my head.  “I’ll meet you back at the table.  Maybe Will’s arrived?” I hoped like anything Aden had called him and he had his ass planted at that table with flowers and chocolates to apologize to my best friend.

Ella rolled her eyes and walked off to the bar while I made my way back to table.  My heart sunk a little when it was just Aden sitting there.

“Did you call him?”

“I did.  He’s not far away.”

“He’s almost an hour late, Aden.”  I gave him a pointed look.

Rather than argue with me or defend his friend, he leaned in and kissed my lips.

“Aden.”  I heard the woman’s purr come from behind me so I pulled back from our kiss and turned.  I noted the thick tension coming from Aden, but I focused on the woman standing in front of us, her smoky eyes all but eating my man alive.  She was all tits and ass, and those physical attributes were spilling from the short, strapless red leather dress she wore.  Her bottle-blonde hair screamed
I just got fucked real good.  Want to have a turn?
And her legs went on for days, leading to a pair of silver strappy platform heels.

“Stella,” Aden greeted tightly.

“Baby, I haven’t seen you in so long.”  She pouted, sticking her plump red lips out.  “I miss you,” she whined.

“Been busy, Stella.”  I waited for him to introduce me, but just like
Stella
completely ignored me, it appeared Aden had forgotten I was there, too.

“You should stop by one night after work.  We’ll have a nightcap.”  She winked at him and gave him sultry eyes.  “We used to have so much fun, baby.  No one’s ever been able to work me over the way you can.”  She was purring, literally, like a cat on heat, desperate for dick.

Aden cleared his throat, clearly feeling awkward. 

“Not tonight of course.  I can see you’re,” she paused to flick me a disdainful look, “busy.  You’ve got my number, so give me a call.  I miss our phone calls nearly as much as I miss our nightcaps.”  She said the last word suggestively, leaving no room for guessing in just what those nightcaps entailed.

Aden stood.  “A word.”  For a moment I thought he was talking to me, but then he scooted around me and took Stella by the arm, leading her away.  I watched them move through the bar, my jaw hanging in shock, until they disappeared in the crowd.

“What the fuck just happened?” I asked myself.  When Aden hadn’t returned a few moments later, I decided ‘fuck it’.  I stood, grabbed my handbag and went searching for him.  I found them in a quiet corner of the bar.  Stella was leaning against the wall and Aden was saying something to her, his face stern, his jaw tight.  She smiled seductively at him, which was at odds with his body language, but I didn’t have time to process that, because her eyes flicked to me quickly before back to Aden. Then she threw her arms around his neck and crushed her lips to his.  My stomach felt like it fell through the floor as my nose began to tingle and my eyes burned.  I thrust my tongue against the roof of my mouth to hold off the tears that were threatening, and then I hightailed it out of the bar, not wanting to watch for another second. 

The cold night air hit me like a slap in the face, but I put my head down and walked about a block before I remembered Ella.  Finding a secluded alley to block the wind, I ducked in there and pulled out my phone.

Scarlett:
I left. I’m sorry, I’ll explain later.

Ella replied almost instantly.

Ella:
Where are you?  I’ll come get you in my car.

I told her where I was and waited a few minutes before she arrived.  I climbed inside the warmth of her car.  “Let’s go to your place.”

Fifteen minutes later, we arrived at Ella’s and walked inside.  Aden had been calling and texting non-stop for the past ten minutes but I hadn’t answered or read anything from him.  Instead, I had turned my phone off.  I walked straight to the freezer and pulled out a tub of ice cream while Ella retrieved two spoons from the drawer.  Then we sat side by side on the couch and I told her what had happened.

“What the fuck?” she exploded when I finished recounting the story.

“I know, right?” I said, spooning another mouthful of the chocolate creamy goodness into my mouth.

“Did he push her away?” she seethed.

I shrugged.  “I didn’t wait and watch,” I deadpanned.

“Asshole.”  She dug her spoon into the tub.  “And that Stella chick sounds like a fucking slut.  I mean, who
does
that?”

“Sluts?” I answered with a halfhearted laugh.  At least if I was laughing I wasn’t crying, and I
really
didn’t want to cry.  Not until I was curled up in bed, in the dark, and had a pillow to muffle my sobs. 

When my stomach was so full from ice cream I thought I might explode, I dropped my spoon and looked at Ella.  “Can I stay?”

“Of course,” she answered gently. 

“I’m going to go to bed then.  I’m exhausted.”

“Okay, babe.  See you in the morning.”

I had slept at Ella’s numerous times over the five years she had owned her pad, so I knew where her spare room was.  I left my turtleneck on, but took off my jeans and bra, setting them on the chair in the corner of the room.  Once I was under the covers, I buried my head in the pillow and closed my eyes.  Almost instantly, I saw nothing but Stella’s lips on Aden, and that was all it took for the first wave of tears to come. 

Had Aden been stringing me along this entire time?  He had obviously spent time with Stella, so was he still seeing her?  Was Aden as manipulative as Damon?  No, that was unfair.  I couldn’t think like that; I wasn’t the type of person to think like that.  Still, heartbreak hurts and right then, I felt like my chest was splintering into thousands of tiny shards.  When I finally fell asleep, images of red leather, bright red lips and fake hair, and
Aden
assaulted my mind. 

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