UNSHAKABLE (Able Series Book 4) (10 page)

He stands and walks away from me. I can hear him let out a breath and take a couple of deep ones in, then out again. As hard as I try to kill the lies playing in my brain, I can’t. How can I? If I didn’t know the woman he had sex with, it probably would’ve been better. But I do know her. I know how conniving she is, and I’m left wondering why everyone trusts her, including my own father.

“Stop!” He yells, and my eyes gravitate toward him in shock. “Whatever garbage is playing in your head, stop it now! I’m leaving in a couple of minutes. I don’t need to worry about you while I’m gone. I need you to trust me. Learn to trust me. You actually should have by now.” He pinches his nose and closes his eyes, only to open them with disappointment lacing them.

Exasperation ignites in my body. “Oh, so you waltz in here, drop a bomb on me, and expect me to be okay with it? Are you kidding me? Would you be okay with it if the situation were reversed? What if I confessed to you that I banged Travis? Would you be skipping out of here with a smile on your face? God! You even know how many times you fucked her! Who does that? Are you trying to keep a tally?”

He shakes his head as he walks toward the door. “Obviously my honesty doesn’t mean shit. I’m sorry if you think I walk on water, because I don’t. I never pretended to. Do I need to give you a list of women I fucked? Is that what you want? What good will that do? You’re afraid of someone who doesn’t mean anything to me! I expect acceptance from you, Sophia, not condemnation.”

With that he leaves, and I’m stuck replaying what he said in my brain like Ground Hog’s Day. My mom’s morning visit comes minutes after Damien leaves. I only have a few precious moments to erase the emotions vividly etch on my face and to clear my head.

“Everything okay, honey?”

“Uh-huh. Peachy.”

She narrows her eyes but holds off, giving me a hug instead. “We’re leaving for New York tomorrow. We’ll be having dinner tonight, so plan to stay home after your studio time. If I may add, truth when given freely should be accepted, because in your acceptance the person is freed from the guilt of knowing their actions caused you pain.”

I’m fidgeting with my blanket when I feel my mom’s warm hands on my face. I dare not look up for fear of totally losing it in front of her. Right now, jealousy overrides every single emotion in me.

“I heard. And yes, I was eavesdropping. Jealousy is such a potent emotion that it takes time to defeat. It doubles in size each and every time you make up wild things in your head. Kill it, Sophia, before it kills you. Stop imagining things. Let it go because it’s already in the past.”

Those were her last words before I jump into the shower. I’m hoping my day will improve after washing the nastiness of the morning away and praying I won’t bump into the person I never want to speak to again.

Acceptance
—Shouldn’t it be easier to give as long as it’s the truth? I should be happy that Damien told me the truth, but now that it’s out there it’s a bitter pill to swallow. Why? Because the truth hurts, that’s why! Shouldn’t the truth set me free?

Condemnation
—Shouldn’t be given when someone is being truthful. So why am I upset? I guess because while the truth sets him free, it holds me hostage in a cell filled with jealousy.

DAMIEN

“Wilson, pass these out, please.”

I hand him a list of probable suspects that might show up at tomorrow night’s fundraising dinner. Nodding, he takes the papers and starts passing them around as everyone looks and studies them. Ever since this morning’s admission debacle, I’ve been short with almost everyone around me. My honesty backfired on me which is something I actually expected, but regretfully didn’t prepare for. I hate fighting with her. More so leaving things unresolved while I’m supposed to be in complete focus is pissing me off. This is why I didn’t do relationships. They mess with your brain. With my line of work, I need to have a clear mind, not a muddled up brain consumed entirely by Sophia. Just then my cell rings, an incoming call from Luke.

“What’s up?” I unclip my seatbelt and walk toward the back of the plane.

“Your Wildflower, who is a pain in my ass, wants to talk to you.”

“Tell her I can’t talk, right now.” My voice is tight as irritation of our situation seeps out of me.

This is why I wanted to settle it earlier when we had the chance. Now, she wants to have a conversation when I can’t even see her. I’m thirty thousand feet above land and miles away from her. How the hell does she think a simple phone call will solve this?

“Alright, I’ll break it to her gently. Wish I were there and not here. Just saying.”

“Take care of her for me.” A simple yet important request leaves my mouth.

My personal cell buzzes inside my pocket. I swipe my phone, happy it’s her texting but dreading what I’m about to read.

Wildflower: I know we’re fussing. Can we have an MU?

Me: What is MU?

Wildflower: Mutual Understanding

Me: Noted

Wildflower: 1–4-3–4-4

Me: Is that a code?

Wildflower: It means. . . . I Love You Very Much.

Me: How so?

Wildflower: It corresponds to the number of letters of each word.

Me: 4–3-5–8

Wildflower: Huh?

Me: Your Ass Needs Spanking

I smile after typing those words. I know they’ll get her all riled up and putting on the brakes isn’t necessary.

Wildflower: 4–2

I smile wider after reading her text since I know what it means. I can imagine her rolling her eyes at me once she reads my response.

Me: Bite Me? Is that an invitation, baby? I’ll bite every inch of your body while you scream my name. You squirming, yet?

She doesn’t answer right away, so I walk back to my seat. Then my phone buzzes one after another as soon as I click my seatbelt on.

Wildflower: >:(

Wildflower: Meanie!

Wildflower: Tease!

Wildflower: Thanks! Now I’m leaving the safety of my room sans panties!

As soon as I read the last message, every single drop of my blood goes straight to my head. She better not be leaving without . . . I can’t even say the word, much less imagine her without them. I forcefully unclip my seatbelt and lock myself in the lavatory before I force the pilot to head back to D.C.

I punch the numbers into my phone, not caring if I crack the screen. Counting the seconds until she answers is driving me insane, reminding myself to take deep breaths is the only way air is circulating in my body.

“Hello.” Her angelic voice douses the fire of ire in me.

“Please tell me you’re still in your room.” A red angry face reflects back at me as I stare in the mirror. “You better be wearing panties. If not God help you when I get back. I’ll tie your ass to your bed for days.”

I hear a loud gasp followed by a giggle. On any normal day that would’ve caused a smile to spread across my face, but this time my brows furrow while I turn green out of utter annoyance.

“I’m not finding any of this funny. Are you wearing panties? Answer me, Sophia Andrews!” My voice is trembling, control evidently slipping away.

“Baby, I’m wearing Victoria’s Secret lacy boy shorts. Want me to send you a pic?” I can hear the laughter in her voice.

“Can you please behave while I’m gone?”

She quips quickly, “Depends.”

My fist clenches at my side. “It depends on what?” My mind is twirling a mile a minute trying to decipher what she means by it ‘depends’.

“If you still love me,” she whispers.

“What gave you the impression that I don’t? Is this about our argument this morning? I told you about her because I don’t want you blindsided. I don’t want her poison destroying what we have, plus honesty is what will make this last. Love isn’t our issue, baby. It’s everyone around us who wants to destroy us. I need you to trust in me completely, whether I’m near or far. You’ll need to believe in the man I was before you and who I am with you. Otherwise, without trust and faith in each other, I’m afraid our foundation will crumble at the first sign of trial that comes our way.”

“I trust you. I don’t trust her.”

“All you need to do is to trust me. No one, not her, not any nameless woman I’ve been with in the past is part of our equation,” I whisper. “Who do I love?”

Her soft sweet voice melts the anger inside me. “Me.”

“Who do I swear forever with?”

“Me.”

“Who do I want to make my wife?”

“Me.”

“So, if it’s you, don’t ever doubt my love. Don’t ever question it . . . I want you to always fight for it, so a simple argument or misunderstanding won’t diminish or kill that love, baby.”

A sigh of contentment echoes in my ear, and I know right then we’re right side up once again. “Anything else you want to tell me?”

“Please be careful. Call me when you can, and I miss you already.”

Being separated from her is something I don’t ever look forward to, but her voice and sweet words always bring a sense of calmness and relief from the anxiety that surrounds me.

Acceptance
—I expect it, especially when I divulge the truth willingly. However, there’s always bickering associated with the truth because the one receiving it will more than likely be hurt. My Wildflower definitely was hurt, but what she doesn’t know is that it hurts me more knowing I caused that pain. It hurts more than the acceptance she refused to give.

Condemnation
—It’s not something I expect when truth leaves my mouth. Keeping Nicole a secret is a no go for me. She was a mistake I fear will haunt me for more than just the handful of times we fucked. I’ve uncovered that part and brought it to light hoping that whatever venom she might spew in the future will be buried by the truth of my love for Sophia.

SOPHIA

“SO HOW DID THE DATE
go last night?” Darcee questions as she slurps on something.

“Dar, he’s so sweet. He’s the perfect gentleman, always holding my hand, opening doors for me, and pulling out my chair. I’m in seventh heaven.” Sighing out loud I continue on, “Our conversations are always about how he sees our future. Our future, Darcee. I’m super happy.” I smile even though I know she can’t see me.

“I’m happy for you, Soph. I saw on one of the online rags how you rocked that polka dot dress with the blue Jimmy Choo peep toe pumps. And let me tell you, Damien, without the yucky suit, is just wow! Two words . . . rock-hard! And that smirk . . . girl, why haven’t you devoured him yet? I would have fucked him six ways to Sunday! Double on Holidays!”

I laugh out loud at Darcee’s statement. Though everything she says isn’t really far from the truth. She’s always been supportive of my relationship with Damien even before we were an item. A loud shriek coming from Darcee almost busts my eardrum.

“NO! Oh, Soph. Turn your TV on any freaking channel, right now. And you might want to sit down for this.”

My fingers fumble with the remote control to turn the TV on as quickly as possible, while Darcee continues to say ‘oh no’ over and over again. The moment I see the headline. . . .

PRESIDENT’S DAUGHTER HAVING AN ILLICIT AFFAIR WITH ONE OF HER SECRET SERVICE AGENTS
. . .

. . . . come across the screen, my eyes bug out as my heart plummets to the darkest, deepest part of the earth. Then, a picture of us standing outside the Yellow Oval Room with my arms are around his neck, and his hands on my waist with our lips meshed together is on full display. It’s quickly followed by another picture of me with my head against the wall, my back arched, and Damien’s lips on my neck. My leg is hiked up resting on his hip while his hand is on my leg with his groin pressed against mine. The slam dunk in tonight’s news flashes on the screen. It’s a picture of Damien going into a room that people will assume is my bedroom, but the female hand pulling him in is definitely not mine. There’s no pinky ring on that hand.

My knees give way as I fall on my bed with Darcee’s voice comforting me. I take a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm my already combustible emotions and the pounding on my door isn’t helping at all. Tears trickle down my face no matter the number of deep breaths I take.

“I . . . I have to go,” I stutter, knowing my mom will be barging in any second.

My entire body is shaking, and it’s screaming for Damien’s touch. I say his name over and over again until the door swings open, revealing my mom and Ms. Viv’s equally shocked and worried faces.

Words won’t do anything for me at this point. I need his touch. I need his voice . . . I just need him.

“Soph, I’m assuming you’ve seen the pictures. Let’s go to the Yellow Room and wait for your dad and everyone else.” My mom’s curt instructions make me all the more nervous about what’s going to happen.

As we walk outside, Joe Allen, Nicole, and my dad walk in followed by Damien. He walks my way and envelopes me in his arms. My face lands on his chest as one hand holds my head while the other is securely on my waist.

He turns us around with his back to everyone as he holds my face in his hands. His eyes center on mine. “I love you, Sophia. You with me?”

“I love you, too,” I whisper as more tears escape my eyes.