Chapter 9
Samantha
"I told you the truth about being born to a nasty public-housing apartment. And all the rest of it, I gave you a patchwork of truth—with a lot of holes, I admit it—but there wasn't a lie among them." Damon sounds a little guilty, like he's almost desperate to reassure me.
"But what I left out is …I didn't start out some fancy, white-hat doctor who goes around saving lives. That's my penance for what I did before. It's how I can live with myself now."
He takes a long swallow of his drink and then refreshes it with straight brandy before setting the mug down. "My dad's been doing a stint in Wandsworth—prison—for as long as I've been alive. I've never even met him. But he was still the head of the family business, because without his name I would never have had any dealings with that world."
"What's the family business?" I can guess, but I want to hear it from him.
"Well, my dad managed to get himself forty years for a diamond heist. His younger brother, my uncle, was still knocking over banks and high-end shops, which meant he was in and out of jail as well. The difference was, he had a better lawyer and was usually out within a few months each time.
"So my mum and my aunt moved in together, and that made it me and my aunt's son, Copper, growing up like brothers. My uncle would come by for a few months, dig up cash for us from God knows where, and then get picked up for something and have another round behind bars.
"In between, he started teaching Copper and me things. How to lift a wallet, how to copy a key, how to crack a safe, and how to control a room during a robbery." Damon sits back and swallows down the contents of his mug, then lays it aside with a sigh.
"There were no jobs for young lads when I started out and no money for college. When Copper came to me and said he had a driving job for me, I didn't know I would be driving a getaway car for him and his lads. But, then, there I was, right in the midst of it." He speaks frankly, making no apologies and no excuses.
"I got in too deep before I even realized just how badly off we all were. They were knocking over shops during football riots and breaking into cars during the holidays. I drove them and got them away, and got a cut of the money for it. Copper kept telling me we were like Robin Hood, except this time, the poor we were giving to was us."
I watch his face. The hard expression has gone bleak, replaced by a tortured look filled with regret. Some of the fear trickles out of my heart, but burning curiosity and a little wariness replace it.
"My mother hated it. She cried about it and begged me to stop. And I kept trying. Copper would beat my ass for making him look bad to the others, and I learned to fight properly, so he'd have a harder time doing it."
He eyes the brandy bottle, then shrugs and takes a long pull from it, not giving a damn any more. I'm still on painkillers or I would reach for it myself. As it is, I'm nursing the rest of my mug.
"Then Copper gets mixed up with these guys my uncle's been doing jobs with and not a single one of them is any good. In fact, every last one is rotten. I beg him to leave with me—to just go—but he's in too deep."
He licks his lips and turns toward the window wall, that sad, empty look on his face making my heart ache. "So they decide to graduate to bank jobs. And my uncle decides that this time, I'm going in. They need someone smart and steady-handed to crack the safe.
"I end up in even deeper. Somewhere around my third year of that, we're hitting a bank in Leeds. We end up faced with a safety door that slams down in front of the vault while I'm inside it gathering things up. And the idiot entry man Copper picked up on short notice sets the charges off too close to a gas pipe."
I sit back, astonished, as he winces and nods. "Wow. Did the whole building go up?"
"Yeah, and then it went down. I rode out the explosion and collapse in the vault, grabbed the two million in diamonds we had come for, and disappeared. I hated doing it, but I knew I'd be presumed dead, and that was my only chance to escape."
I just stare at him, my mouth open in astonishment as I process this latest bit of information. "You ...you fled to America then? Got a new identity?"
"Yeah. I did. I left everyone behind. Copper, my mum, my girl—let them all think I'd died. I came here, bought myself a new life, and laid down capital for this building, which paid for itself while I put myself through medical school."
He spreads his hands, sighing. "I've kept my hands off of you because you're a sweet girl, really lovely, and you've had enough people messing up your life. I'm a miscreant, damn it. I've got phone calls from unknown London cell phones and I've got unmarked vans trying to run me off the road. Someone's found me." He reaches out and cups the side of my face in his big hand so tenderly that it brings tears to my eyes.
"I don't deserve you, and sticking around is going to put you in danger. It's not that I don't care for you, Samantha. It's that I do, and I'm poison for you. Especially right now."
It hurts. A shudder goes through me, almost a convulsion, while a stabbing pain runs through my chest. A sob escapes me, and the pain that flashes across his face at the sight of it only makes it worse.
He saved my life twice. He's the only person I have ever had who has really given a damn about me, and I can't lose him—even if staying with him puts me in danger. I can't.
"Shit." He gathers me against his chest, his body tense and his heart beating fast. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I know you've been through a lot, even without me."
"Without you, I'd be dead." My voice comes out surprisingly calm, and he freezes, then slowly looks down to meet my gaze. "Twice," I remind him, before looking away shyly. "Anyway, it's too late. Whoever tailed us onto the highway to attack us already knows I'm mixed up with you."
He sighs and swallows, blinking rapidly. "Damn." After a long, thoughtful silence, he mutters, "I can try and keep you safe. But I don't know how I'm going to make up for dragging you into my problems."
I take a deep breath, steadying myself against him, and then slide my hands up his chest as he looks into my eyes. "You can start by making love to me."