Wreck Me (24 page)

“Why does my note taking bother you?”

“I don’t like the idea of you…just…talking shit about me in your little notebook. You don’t even know me so how could you write anything about me?” He gives a clinical nod and continues writing. Jackass.

“Why would you have the impression that I think poorly of you? That I would write ‘shit’ about you?” He uses air quotes which only perturbs me more. It’s irrational. I’m aware of that, but damn he is getting under my skin.

“I don’t know. Maybe because I’m dating a rich entrepreneur who paid you six months in advance to see me because I’m a fucked up, formerly homeless orphan with a host of skeletons just itching to jump out of the closet?”

“I take it you don’t feel like you’re on the same level as Mr. Cole?” I look at him like he is the world’s most dense person.

“Um, what part of that comparison did you not get? Super rich entrepreneur. Homeless, unemployed, orphan.” I hold out my hands like a scale and quirk up an eyebrow.

“Josephine, I don’t believe Damon views you like that. So why do you define yourself in such a way? Why can’t you say something else?” Well shit. I don’t have an answer for that.

“I don’t know,” I mutter and flick a piece of lint from my jeans.

“I guess I have never thought of myself in another way.”

“Okay well right now I want you to define yourself differently to me. I want you to introduce yourself to me and say all positive things about yourself.”

“Right now?” He nods and I see his stupid pen ready to jot.

“Alright. Um. I guess I um, I work hard. I don’t quit easily. I can take an ass kickin’, verbal or physical and keep going. I taught myself since I quit school at twelve years old. I‘m really good with books. Sutton use to say I’m a walking card catalog.” Thinking about it makes me smile, but sadness follows almost instantly. I am still getting use to the fact that he isn’t at the store waiting on me. It still hasn’t sunk in that when I stop to get Chinese takeout I won’t be ordering his usual sweet and sour chicken.

“Let’s talk about him a little.” I glance up at the old shrink and I’m compelled to talk.

“I went to the diner this morning for my usual breakfast routine and I swear on my life I saw an older man walking through the parking lot who could be Captain’s twin. My heart stopped when I saw him. I know it can’t be. I put him in the ground. Right beside my parent’s actually. I was the last one to see him before they closed the casket. He looked peaceful. Like he was sleeping, ya know? They closed it in front of me and wheeled him to the hole in the ground. Only four people came to his funeral. Me, Damon, Brian, out of respect for Damon I think, and one of his neighbors. That’s it. No one cared that he died. It still makes me sad and pissed off. More people should fucking care! More people should fucking hurt! Not just me! I’m so tired of it just being me. It’s not fair that it’s always me!” I have rambled on and broken down into a sobbing bone wracking fit of emotion. The good doctor comes to me and squats down in front of me. He hands me a tissue and pats me on the back. He sets the tissue box in my lap and returns to his seat across from me.

“Josephine, your mourning. You’re mad and that is normal and fine. You want to blame someone for the things that have happened. The first step I want you to work on is embracing the things that have hurt you. Stop fighting against all of it. Allow yourself to hurt. Allow yourself to cry as much and for as long as it takes until you get it all out. You can’t go on suppressing all these things. You have a future waiting for you and I can see that you want to go for it, but you have to cut your ties with the past young lady.” I nod and blot my eyes.

“I know. I want to try. I really do. Damon deserves better. He’s amazing and I love him. I’ll try for him.” The doc gives me a half smile and checks his watch. Right on cue our first session is over.

“Til’ next week doc.” I give him a finger salute and walk out.

When I get to Damon’s BMW I rest my head against the steering wheel. I don’t want to go back to the penthouse yet. It’s a bloody wreck thanks to moving boxes full of my useless junk. I can think of someone to cheer me. My ticket in is a bag of circus peanut candy. Perfect.

After stopping by a gas station to get the goods for Grams I get my ass over to her retirement home in a hurry. I adore that woman and honest to god, she is just what the doctor ordered right about now. She is wise and funny and smart. I could use the distraction of a nice long visit with Grams. I pull into a parking space and shut off the car. I pull out my cell phone and fire off a text to let Damon know where I am.

Stopped to visit with Grams. Be back soon. Love you
.

A text hits my inbox a minute later. I open it as I walk across the parking lot.

Again. –D

I smile a broad face splitting smile and type out another text.

I. Love. You. ;)

Another text chimes as I make my way down the corridor to her suite.

Atta girl. I love you too. Kiss Grams for me.

I shove my phone into my bag, and round the corner and walk in through her open door.

“Hey Grams, I brought y-“ I freeze in place when I see that she has company already.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I can come back.”

“No you don’t! Bring me that candy girl!” I give a tentative smile and walk into her room fully. An older man with glossy bloodshot eyes and silvering blonde hair grin’s a toothy grin from the chair beside Grams bed. Who the HELL is he? I hand the candy over the Grams wait for an introduction.

“Josephine this is my son, Edward. Eddie, this is Josephine, Damon’s girlfriend.” His eyebrows arch up and he crosses his arms over his chest. Great.

“Ah. So you’re the little mooching whore who I’m suppose to stay away from.”

“Who the fuck do you think you’re talkin’ to you drunk ass slob?” I fire back.

“Hey! Both of you knock it the hell off.” Grams breaks up our verbal squabble and we are resigned to dirty looks and eye rolls for the rest of my visit. So much for being cheered up.

“Mom, I’m off.” Edward the drunk piece of shit leans over and half ass hugs Grams. Opportunity knocks.

“Yeah I guess I had better take off too. Damon is waiting.” I lean in and kiss her on her wrinkled cheek and hug her.

I jog to catch up with Edward in the hall.

“Hey!” He stops and turns to face me.

“I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but talk to me like that again and I’ll jack that jaw of yours into next week!” The next thing I know his disgusting hand comes crashing into my face. This motherfucker just slapped me like he has lost his mind. Without thinking my hand draws back and then my balled left fist lands squarely on his lousy drunk mouth. He grunts and clutches his bloodied mouth.

“Don’t you ever put your hands on me again,” I grate out through teeth so tightly clenched they grind together. I turn and head for the exit. I glance at a nurse as I leave and her eye are wide with shock. Dammit, I’m going to get banned from visiting. Damon is going to be pissed at me. Just what I need right now.

On the drive home I tried to come up with a decent excuse for my pending ban from the retirement home, but came up with nothing. I bet they have already contacted him to tell him about my fist fight with his dad.

“Fan-fuckin’-tastc.” I mumble to myself as I press in the code and the doors shut to take me directly to my doom. I will just be honest and explain myself. It’s the only play I’ve got so I’ll just go with it. If he’s pissed I’ll just grovel until he gets over it. Yep. It’s a plan.

I enter the penthouse and quickly start scanning for Damon and Hemingway.

“I’m back!” I shout. No one comes. Where the hell are they? Hemingway usually comes slipping and sliding in his clumsy puppy way to the foyer. I begin searching for them. I walk down the hall towards Damon’s office. I slow my steps when I hear talking. Who’s here? I slip through the half open door to his office and see Hemingway sitting on Damon’s desk and they are looking at his computer screen.

“What about this one Hemi? What do you think? Think she’ll like it?” Damon ruffles Hemi furry little head before noticing me at his door. His jaw clenches and I know he’s pissed. He sets Hemingway down on the floor and comes to me in a hurry. He grabs my hand from my side and drags me towards the bedroom. Ah, shit. We cross the room and into the bathroom. His hand grips my jaw and forces me to look in the mirror and I see why he’s flipped out. My lip is busted and blood has dried just below my bottom lip. Damn. I didn’t even feel it. Or taste the blood. Adrenaline is funny like that.

“Who busted your lip?” His chest is heaving up and down, his face has turned red and his one fist is balled so tightly his knuckles have turned white.

“I got into it with your dad. He slapped me so I punched him. He looks worse than me.”

“Josephine, I am not impressed with your humor. Tell me what the fuck happened. Now.”

“He was there with Grams, he called me a whore and a mooch. I stopped him in the hall to tell him not to run his mouth like that to me and he slapped me so I landed a left. Busted his shit up good,” I say the last bit with pride because it’s true. His face bled a lot more than my measly little drop from a busted lip.

“I’ll kill him. I swear to Christ I’ll bury that sorry piece of shit! He ruined my life already I won’t let him mess with you!”

“You didn’t have to clean it like a mortal wound you know.” Damon turns his still furious amber gaze on me and I decide that my mouth should probably stay shut until he cools down. I offer a weak smile, but wince when my busted lip cracks open. The wimpy display only fuels my big man’s anger. He points a finger at me and I freeze in place.

“If you see him you leave. I don’t care where you are. You leave and call me immediately. You don’t go anywhere near that mother fucker. Do you understand me?” His tone and urgency have me a little freaked out. I can handle a lush just like any other person, but something tells me he isn’t the typical drunk asshole. Something distinct in Damon’s voice has me genuinely worried about this asshole. He had a sinister grin on his face when I walked into that room. It wasn’t the kind of grin that means anything good. I need some answers, but it’s clear that they won’t be coming from Damon. He is far too pissed and is adamant about me keeping away from his father. I’ll have to talk to Grams again.

“I’ll steer clear of him, baby. Just calm down okay?” I step into his arms and brush my palm over his sculpted cheekbone.

“You don’t have to worry about me. I’m a big girl.” I smile, but it does nothing to coax him into a lighter mood.

“You don’t understand Josephine.” He shakes his head and pulls me into his chest. His arms tighten around me and I can barely fill my lungs. He’s freaked out. Something isn’t right here.

“He ruins everything he touches. He sucks the life from everyone around him. He uses and hurts people then, throws them aside when they are of no use to him anymore. I would be completely destroyed if I ever lost you because of him. I’d never make it without you. I don’t want to make it without you.” His words have me worried and deeper in love all at once. My poor big man is screwed up like me it would seem. Maybe I should drag him to see the shrink. I laugh on the inside at the idea of my big Damon sitting in that chair I was in, talking to my new shrink about whatever. I can’t picture him doing it.