Damen (The Marquette Family Book Two) (11 page)

He chuckled. “Yes, you only told me ten times.”

“Nine. Don’t be dramatic.”

He laughed again and handed her the treat. She stuck her spoon into the creamy concoction and pulled up a giant helping. The sweetness touched her tongue, and she moaned in satisfaction.

“No, we’re not doing that,” Damen said. “You’re resting.”

“Doesn’t your dick need rest too?”

“It’s been cocooned in the softest, warmest place on earth. How could it need rest?”

“You like to exaggerate.”

“I speak only the truth.”

“Uh-huh.”

For a while, they sat side by side in a semi-dark room eating ice cream. Heaven wondered where the ice cream calories would begin to settle on her body, and then she thought of Damen. What was he thinking? He had in essence said from now on his body belonged to her, and it had made her cry harder. On the surface, his words sounded warm and wonderful, but she couldn’t help realizing that what would have been better was if he had said from now on, his heart was hers. Just thinking it, made hers constrict and tears wet her lashes.

She blinked away the wetness and swallowed the emotion, glad he couldn’t see her face very well.

“Heaven.”

She froze. “Yeah?”

Damen’s spoon clinked against his bowl, and he set it on the bedside table. “I didn’t push to know about your dad and you, but if it’s not too much for you, I’d like you to tell me about your relationship with him.”

She knew it would come at some point. He’d said last week they would talk about it, and they had discussed her mother a little. Her mother and dad had divorced when she was ten, and Heaven had begged to be able to stay with her dad. She and her mom were never close, and Heaven hadn’t talked to her in years.

Now she learned Damen hadn’t forgotten that they never discussed her dad, but as usual, he was thinking of her feelings. In some ways, Damen was too giving, too accommodating of others. She wondered if that was why his wife had left him and why he let Nita do what she wanted. Damen seemed like he needed someone to balance him out. Then she chided herself, because it sounded like she as trying to convince herself she was the woman for him.

Now who’s being selfish?

“You probably don’t remember,” she began, “but there’s this half inch scar on my forehead. It’s almost invisible, and my hair covers it most of the time.”

“Right here.” His fingers went right to it in the dark.

“Great, thanks. You’re saying my flaws are glaring.”

“No, I just noticed every part of you, and I’ve spent a lot of time enjoying myself as I looked into your face.”

“Oh.” She curled her toes under the sheet. With the A/C going and the ice cream, goose bumps popped out on her skin. Damen took her empty bowl and set it atop his. Then he laid back and drew her into his arms.

“Go on.”

“When I was a kid, my dad and I argued like cats and dogs. I don’t know why we didn’t get along. Maybe because I thought I knew everything, or because in a lot of ways I was just like him.”

“Hm, I can see that.”

She stiffened because she didn’t want to believe she was anything like the man now. Damen rubbed her arm, and she let the attitude go. “Anyway, one day, when I was twelve, I must have pushed him farther than I ever did before. I don’t remember what I said, but the next thing I knew he had slapped me.”

“No!”

“Yeah, don’t get me wrong, my dad had never spanked me before that. Ever. He’s the kind of man that will argue with you until you don’t care what your point was, if he’d just let it go.”

“I can see that too.” This time, Damen didn’t laugh. She sensed his pent up emotions at hearing about her dad hitting her. He must know since she mentioned the scar, there was more to the story than a slap.

She hesitated because every time she thought of her past, the pain was there choking her. One would think she’d grow indifferent, but she never did. In some ways, she hated him. In others, it was like she still kept stupidly hoping. When she moved to New Orleans, it was during one of those times when she felt strong enough to let that hope go. As she lay beside Damen, she wondered if she was being real with herself.

“The force of the slap made me stumble, and one of my dad’s reference books was stacked with some others on the floor. I fell over them, and before I could catch myself, I banged my forehead on the edge of his desk. Cut my skin just like that.”

She snapped her fingers, and Damen cried out in alarm.

“It wasn’t that big a deal. You know how head wounds bleed more.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, it was messy. My dad rushed me to the hospital, and they used those butterfly bandages to hold it closed. Not even a stitch. Nothing but that tiny scar.”

Damen squeezed her closer to him. “I’m guessing the emotional damage was worse.”

“Yes. He never touched me again. No slap, no hug, no nothing. He’s cold as ice to me now. Maybe he feels like I did something to him.”

“I’m so sorry, Heaven.” He shook his head and ran fingers through his hair as he stared up at the ceiling. “I can’t reconcile the man you’re telling me about with the mentor who has—”

He broke off, and she raised her head. “Damen?”

He laced his fingers with hers. “I’ve been in contact with him all these years. I considered him a friend, but I realized not more than two or three times did he mention you and never by name. I never made the connection. My head must have been far up my ass.”

“Don’t blame yourself. It’s all him.” She sounded bitter, but she couldn’t suppress it. “I just wish…”

She gasped and snapped her lips together. Tears gathered.
Damn it, no. Not now.
Too late, she started to cry. Damen engulfed her in his arms and rocked her like a child. She clung to him sobbing. For the moment, he was her lifeline, and she needed his strength. He didn’t say anything. He just let her cry until the emotions, which were cresting out of control, died down, and she lapsed into a few hiccupped sighs.

“I don’t want to talk about him anymore.” She accepted the tissue he offered her from the bedside table.

“Okay.”

“Suffice it to say, our relationship stinks, and you already know how he told me basically I’m not good enough for you.”

“Fuck him.”

“Damen.”

“Fuck him, Heaven.” He stroked her cheek. “You’re going to be my wife, and your dad doesn’t enter into that equation. We can get Creed to give you away.”

He grinned, and she burst out laughing. “Oh, yeah, I see that happening.”

He shrugged. “I’ve got a way with the beast.”

“You’re crazy. We haven’t seen each other in over a decade. We’re clearly different people—or at least you are—and there’s no guarantee it would work out between us.”

“You’re saying if we had known each other all these years, we would have a guarantee?”

“No, of course not. I’m just saying the odds would be better.”

“The odds are perfect. We’re going to do this. I see it more now than ever.”

“I can’t figure out your mind.”

He kissed her. “That’s what will make me a fantastic husband. Okay, sleep. We have two kids that drain every ounce of our energy tomorrow if today was any indicator.”

As if on cue, Heaven yawned and covered her mouth. “Don’t I know it. All right. Good night.”

“Good night, Heaven.”

Chapter Eleven

Heaven couldn’t believe the name on the caller ID. In fact, she wondered how Shada had even gotten ahold of her number. Then again, she might have just gone into Creed’s office and looked through the employee files. Not like anyone would question his on again off again fiancée. Were they back on now? She answered the phone to find out.

“Hello?”

“This is Shada. I want to talk to you.”

Talk about attitude problem. Her tone of voice got Heaven’s hackles up, and while she didn’t make a habit of mouthing off to people, she couldn’t help herself in this instance. “I’ll check my schedule to see if I can fit you in. Whoops, look at that. I can’t.”

“Are you serious?” Shada snapped over the line. “So what, everybody was right about you?”

“I’m not sure how me refusing to talk to you proves anything about what others think about me.”

Shada grunted. “Just give me five minutes. I want to know for myself what’s going on, not what’s rumored around Marquette’s.”

Heaven felt no compulsion whatsoever to meet with Shada and satisfy her curiosity, but she found herself agreeing anyway. Rather than sort through her thoughts trying to read her motivations, she went with it.

“Gideon’s in school until three, but then I have to pick him up. If you’ve got time before that, fine.”

“I’ll make the time. Someone can cover for me. How about Café du Monde? Want to meet there?”

“Whatever. One thirty?”

“Sounds good.”

Heaven spent the morning nervous as hell about the meeting with Shada. She couldn’t concentrate on work and ended up feigning sickness sooner than she intended to. The college she worked for on the West Bank was far enough from the café that she had to catch a bus, and when she left the campus, she just made it to the stop on time. Damen had pushed for her to get a bodyguard, but she had informed him she had no intention of having her steps dogged by some Neanderthal who lived to crack skulls. In truth, she had gotten to know Guy enough to know he wasn’t depraved, but because he protected Damen she was forced to get to know him better.

As she got off the bus, she thought of Damen’s other, more important suggestion.  He called it a suggestion. She called it emotional blackmail, but she understood where he was coming from. Damen wanted Gideon to attend a private school, the same one Nita attended, where security was much tighter. Right now, they took Gideon to school and picked him up. The two of them together had spoken with the principal about Gideon, and no one, including their son, wanted the boy to have a personal bodyguard sitting in the classroom with him. Talk about ruining his chances to make genuine friends.

None of it seemed real since she came from a middle class background, but the sooner she decided the better. The school year had just begun, and they were in a brand new city. Gideon hadn’t made close friends yet or gotten used to the school. Still, did she really have to yank him out and put him with rich kids? What if Damen changed his mind and withdrew from Gideon’s life? Common sense told her Gideon was his son no matter what. If one day, they stopped growing closer—which would break her and her son’s heart—people with bad intentions wouldn’t care. Gideon was Damen’s. Period.

Heaven passed in front of the café’s window and spotted Shada on the other side. Butterflies stirred in her stomach, but she raised her chin and opened the door. A pastry and a cup of coffee sat before Shada, but it looked like she had left off consuming either.

“I got here early,” she explained. “You can grab something if you want. I’ll wait.”

“No, I’m fine.” Heaven’s appetite had vanished as soon as the café came into view. She sat across from Shada. “What do you want to know?”

“First the obvious. Is Gideon Damen’s?”

“Yes.”

“How do we know that?”

“We
don’t need to know it. Damen does. I do.”

“Do you have proof?” The interrogation was beginning to rankle Heaven’s nerves.

“I’ll be glad to let Damen get a paternity test if he asks for one. He hasn’t.”

Distracted, Shada took a sip of the coffee and frowned. “Crap, I let it get cold. Well, I’m used to Marquette’s food, and I guess I’m partial either way.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

Shada eyed her.

“Rumor has it you’re playing games with Creed, or is it back on with you two?”

“I’m not playing games with him! You don’t know anything about me.”

Heaven tilted her head to the side. “Oh, that’s funny because you seemed happy enough to pretend you know me. And you thought it was fine to call me out here questioning me about something that’s none of your business.”

“When it comes to Creed, it is my business. We might have our issues, but I love him. He’s worried about Damen, and that makes me worry about him. I figured as a woman, I could feel you out and see if you’re the gold-digger Creed thinks you are.”

“Maybe you’re the gold-digger,” Heaven pushed through clenched teeth. “Anybody can say they love someone, and you wouldn’t be the first.”

“I’m not on trial.”

“Neither am I!”

Shada sat back and folded her arms over her chest. “This is all about Damen and his son. You’re getting nothing out of it?”

Heaven sighed. “I’m tired of justifying myself to you. Why are you tormenting Creed?”

“Excuse me?”

Heaven leaned forward. “You heard me. When I worked at Marquette’s, I saw the way he looked at you. I would give— He had this look like…I don’t know. He loves you a lot. That’s rare, and you need to think about it. If he loves you even half as much as I think he does, it’s killing him to be apart from you. Every day he has to wake up alone.”

The fire had gone out of Shada’s eyes, but she tried to dredge it up again and failed. “You don’t know what I’ve been through.”

“No, I don’t, but I know what Creed’s been through.”

Shada brown eyes blazed in anger. “Excuse me?”

“Their dad used to hit Creed, and he took it to protect his brothers. You said he’s worried about Damen. Creed had to stand at the top and take the abuse. His mother wasn’t there for him, and Damen and Stefan couldn’t help him the way he needed it. Who does he have now, Shada? You? No, you’re too busy jerking him around running away, and worrying about whatever it is in your own past. Do you know how much it kills a person to have someone you love reject you?”

“You had someone do that?” Shada said in a low voice.

Heaven heaved a sigh. “It doesn’t matter. Gideon is Damen’s. To bring peace to their family, I’m going to push Damen to take the paternity test. Then maybe Creed will back off, but you should concentrate on yourself.”

Heaven stood and turned away, but Shada grabbed her arm. “Wait, you’re really going to do that?”

“Yeah, why not? It’s what you all want, isn’t it?”

Shada smiled for the first time. “Well, I guess if it was me, I’d tell everybody to kiss my ass and I’m not proving anything. Unless of course it would mean the difference between getting what my son needed and not. Listen to me. Now I sound like I’m on your side. From where you stand, you don’t have to prove it. Damen is offering you a lot more than just child support.”

“Oh, you heard that too? Yes, he asked me to marry him.”

“Damen and I have never gotten along, but I hear his ex-wife hurt him bad. If you’re expecting to seduce him into falling in love with you, girlfriend, forget it. I think his heart is still taken.”

Heaven swung away, putting her back to Shada. “I know.”

She started forward, but Shada caught her again and walked around to block her path. “Oh damn, you love him, don’t you? You actually love that fool Damen. Who’da thunk it?”

“I respect—”

“Save it, girl.” Shada waved her hand. “Your secret is out, and now that I’m not angry anymore, I can see it written all over your face.”

“Thanks. You’re all heart.”

Shada grinned. “Well, I still don’t want to get married, but hey, I’m not against other people doing it if they feel it’s right for them. He asked you. Why don’t you do it? You get to enjoy the man you love. I can’t say how it will go because for real, Damen is weird. I don’t know anyone who gets the way his mind works. You might be happy, even if it lasts for one day.”

“Right back at you.”

Shada shook her head. “Different circumstances all together.”

“If you say so.”

They walked together outside to the street, and Heaven couldn’t say they had become friends in that short amount of time. They did understand each other a little better. Who knew if it would stick after Shada talked to Creed again. Despite Creed’s attitude toward her, she hoped it would work between him and Shada.

“Let me give you a ride,” Shada offered when a car pulled up to the curb, and she strode over to it.

Heaven peered through the windshield, another big guy, less threatening than Guy, but he didn’t give her the warm and fuzzies either. She recognized him as Creed’s bodyguard, Pete. Shada must be borrowing him while Creed was at the restaurant. She seemed to take it in stride, but then again, she had been with Creed longer.

“No, thank you. I’m fine.”

Shada scanned the area with a frown. “Are you sure?”

“Positive. Please tell Creed he doesn’t have to worry about Damen when it comes to me. None of you do.” Before Shada could say more, she turned on her heel and strode off. She would keep her word, and there wasn’t a doubt in her mind she could convince Damen to take the test and put everybody’s mind to rest.

Some of the family would probably still see her as an opportunist, but so what. So long as Damen knew the truth, and Gideon was happy. What the others thought of her didn’t matter.

Rather than head back to her apartment or take a taxi to Damen’s house, Heaven decided to walk over to the French Market, which wasn’t that far. She headed under the arch and along the aisle of vendors sharing their wares on either side of her. A table caught her attention, covered with a red cloth and atop that stacks of small alligator heads. Heaven cringed.

“They’re real,” the seller assured her and held up one as if she cared. Heaven tried to force a polite smile, but it stuck, and she spun away.

Um, hell no.

She moved on the to the grate with fuzzy masks attached to it and ran a fingertip over the soft creations. The “aww” she was about to utter died at the skull masks next to the kitty ones. That was New Orleans, she figured.

Heaven was about to continue on to the area where she could buy fruit when someone grabbed her arm from behind. She looked around, and went cold.

“Did you think I would give up, Heaven?”

She tried to tug her arm away and failed. “Why are you still here, Leon?”

He sneered. “Why do you think? To get you to come to your senses.”

“I don’t need to come to my senses. We’re done, and I told you so before I left.”

“You mean over text while you were on the plane?”

“For my own safety because you don’t know how to keep your hands to yourself.” She pulled at her arm. “Get off me, Leon.”

“Or what?” He leaned closer, and she bent backward away from him. His hold tightened.

“Young man, can’t you see this lady doesn’t want you bothering her?”

They both turned to see an old woman at least eighty glaring at Leon. He flared his nostrils. “Back off, Grandma, before you get hurt. This is my girlfriend, and we’re having a conversation.”

Heaven shoved at his chest, which did nothing, and he spun on his heel to propel her back through the arch. The crowd swallowed the old lady, and Heaven looked around for anybody that might help. No one seemed to notice, but she didn’t expect them to, and she didn’t cry out because fear shut her throat. She was used to Leon’s manhandling and threatening her to keep her mouth shut.

Leon shoved her toward a bench at the end of the pavilion. “Sit down.”

Heaven hesitated, but he squeezed her shoulder and forced her downward. Her knees gave, and she dropped onto the bench. She blinked over and over and chewed her bottom lip while staring straight ahead. Leon sat beside her, and she felt his angry gaze.

“You better not cry,” he threatened. “I had to chase you all the way down here and take time off from work. It’s not easy to find something else here either.”

She gaped at him. “You’re not moving to New Orleans?”

“Why not? You’re here.” He grasped her arm again and held it too tight in his meaty grip. “Heaven, you know I love you, right? Come on, girl, we’re good together. Forget that dumbass white guy. You messed up getting with him years ago, but you were young and stupid then. Stay with your own kind—me.”

“Human is my own kind,” she quipped before she caught herself. “It has nothing to do with the color of my skin.”

He pointed a finger in her face, and she braced for a smack. None came. “You like to push me, Heaven, but I’m going to prove how I feel.”

She looked at him, scared of what he meant. Surely, he wouldn’t do anything to hurt Damen. As Leon dug around in his pockets, rattling keys in his search, she watched him. A slow dread built up in her chest, and she wished more than anything she could go back in time and accept Shada’s offer of a ride. If she had, she would be safely behind a locked door by now.