Chapter Four

Jillian

Damon was quiet on the way to the hospital, lost in his own thoughts as he drove. He held such a tight grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles were white the entire ride. His eyes remained glued to the road as we flew through every red light at the early morning hour. Damon’s best friend was barely clinging to life when he was whisked away by the paramedics. He was understandably preoccupied with thoughts of what we’d find when we arrived.

Nothing about the night had gone as Carrie and I planned. We thought we’d covered every possible scenario and planned for every conceivable turn our plan could take, but we were wrong…about everything. At that point, I couldn’t even fall back on the excuse that our intentions were good, because they weren’t. I went there with the sole objective of killing a man. I wanted to watch him die. Instead, another man’s life was in danger. A man who didn’t hesitate to intervene for my protection.

If Benny died, his death would be my fault. If we lost him, it would be because I wanted to be taken seriously in a world where I didn’t even belong. Where I had no place, no history, and no future. That realization slapped me across the face when Matteo was performing his exam on me. His innocent jest about Carrie and Lorenzo having kids struck me—hard. Their kids would be forced to choose a side…to pledge their allegiance…to be part of the family. But they couldn’t win, because the opposing family would find a way to take their vengeance. It was a never-ending cycle of death and destruction.

That meant the same, and more, would be expected of my children. As hard as I tried to picture strong young men like Damon or fearless young women like Carrie, I couldn’t shake the fear that gripped my heart. The knowledge that, one day, my children would be in Benny’s present situation, and I’d be on the receiving end of a phone call to relay the horrible news.

During that moment, I realized I couldn’t live in Damon’s world, no matter how much I loved him. My children wouldn’t live in his world. I wouldn’t allow it, because if I did, the burden of burying my children would fall on my shoulders. That was too much to ask, too much to bear. Knowing how well Damon could read my thoughts, I didn’t even question if he knew I’d made up my mind.

He knew.

That particular fight with Damon would have to wait. After we knew Benny would be okay, I’d broach the subject and try to explain my reasoning. Once everything calmed down, his father would be back to reconcile. Mama Lina would make sure of that. I wasn’t under any delusions that Damon and I would have any future together, that he’d leave his family business and join me in suburbia. But I wholeheartedly believed he’d put our babies first. He’d do what was best for them no matter what it cost him.

In the meantime, I wanted him to know he wasn’t alone. He wouldn’t face the mess Carrie and I dropped at his feet solo. For as long as I was able, I’d stand by his side and give him the strength he needed to face whatever happened. Losing Benny would be a significant blow on top of his exile from the family, however long that lasted. I reached over, placing my hand on his shoulder, and waited for him to glance my way.

“I’m here for you, Damon. Whatever I can do to help, to take any of the burden off your shoulders. This is all my fault, and I’m sorry you have to clean up the mess I’ve made. But I promise, I won’t leave you to do it alone. I’ll be beside you every step of the way until your family is whole again.”

He pulled my hand from his shoulder and laced our fingers together, resting them in his lap. “As much as I appreciate your offer and would love to milk it for all the amazing guilt-sex I can get out of you, I can’t let you take the blame for what happened with my father. He knows how much I’ve given in my life to this family. And he knows Uncle Leo was completely wrong in what he did to you. That doesn’t happen, Jillian. It’s part of that mandatory respect rule we have—that also extends to you, to a degree. Even if they didn’t recognize you as mine, I still wouldn’t let him get away with shit like that.”

“What’s going to happen now? Will your dad change his mind and take up for you?”

“I really don’t know what he’ll do, doll. This has never happened before, so your guess is as good as mine. I wouldn’t count on it though. I’m sure the rumors of my actions have rippled through the ranks by now. There’s no scenario I can see that allows both Leo and me to live and return to the same dynamics as before.”

“You would kill your uncle? Or he would kill you?” I couldn’t believe my ears. Damon was so matter-of-fact about the whole situation, while I couldn’t imagine how the family could ever be the same after.

“No need to worry about any of that right now, Jilly. Tomorrow will bring trouble soon enough. I’ll deal with it when I have to.”

His stony expression turned thoughtful, and I knew exactly what he was thinking before he asked the question. “What was on your mind when Doc was teasing Carrie and Lorenzo about having kids?”

“Now really isn’t the time to talk about that.”

“No time like the present, doll. It may be all we have.”

My heart raced because he already knew the answer—he’d read my thoughts from the expression on my face. “I was thinking I’d never allow that scenario to play out with my children. As much as I love you, and I do, I don’t know that I can stay with you if you’re in this lifestyle. If they’ll be expected to follow in your footsteps. If you put the family ahead of your immediate family the way your father and uncle do.”

He nodded slowly as he considered my words, but he wasn’t surprised in the least. We both knew his question was a test of sorts. He already knew the answer and wanted to see if I’d tell him the truth. I’d planned to anyway, but not while rushing to the hospital to check on his critically wounded friend.

An ambulance pulled into the emergency room bay just as we arrived, so we followed the paramedics through the restricted entrance. We frantically searched the exam rooms but didn’t find Benny. Damon stopped one of the doctors, who obviously recognized him on sight, and asked about his friend.

“He was taken to emergency surgery, Mr. Marchetti.”

The doctor gave us directions to the surgical waiting room where the nurse in the operating room could reach us for status updates, but he explained Benny would be taken straight to the trauma ICU floor after surgery. We wouldn’t be able to see him until the first designated visiting time later in the morning.

“How’d he look, Doc?” Damon asked. His voice was even. The ticking in his tight jaw was the only outward indication of his unease.

The doctor hesitated for a second, understanding what Damon was really asking. “He was in bad shape when he came in, Damon. You both should hope for the best but prepare yourselves for the worst.”

The only other person in the waiting room with us was asleep in the far corner, oblivious to our presence. Damon moved the phone from the front desk to a small table beside a few chairs, stretching the cord as far as it would reach. Then he rearranged the chairs until he’d created a makeshift bed. When we finally took our seats, the fatigue I’d held off all night hit me with full force.

“Stretch your legs out on that chair and lay your head in my lap so you can get some sleep. I’ll wait up for the call about Benny.”

Without waiting for me to move, Damon wrapped his arm around my shoulder and gently pulled me toward him. Swiveling in my seat, I lifted my feet up onto the extra chair as my face lowered to meet his leg. I vaguely remembered his hand brushing my hair off my cheek before I closed my eyes. Then I went out like a light.

A sudden loud noise startled me in my deep sleep, making my whole body jolt at once. Then it stopped, and I settled back into the warmth Damon naturally provided and allowed a peaceful slumber to overtake me once again. Somewhere in the back of my mind, the low murmur of Damon’s voice registered, though, so I fought against the fog clouding my thoughts until I was awake enough to comprehend his words.

“No, I don’t have any other questions. Thank you for…everything.”

Then he placed the phone receiver back into the cradle. But he didn’t move or try to wake me. I forced my eyes to open, though they revolted against me with what felt like a thousand pinpricks, and I pushed up until I could see his face.

“Oh my God. Damon, no! Please don’t tell me he’s…” I bolted up from my reclining position and faced him. But I couldn’t say the word. I couldn’t finish my thought.

Damon nodded. “They did all they could to save him, but the point-blank shot did too much internal damage. The surgeon was surprised he even lived long enough for the ambulance to get him here, much less into surgery. But he refused to bow out easily. Benny was a fighter till the very end.”

“Damon, I’m so sorry.” My voice broke, and tears sprang to my eyes then steadily flowed down my cheeks. There was no point in trying to wipe them away. The constant stream wouldn’t stop anytime soon anyway. “This is all my fault. If I hadn’t been so stupid, so set on doing everything my way, none of this would’ve happened. Your family. Your best friend. You’ve lost everything because of me. I’m so ashamed. And, this sounds so hollow, but I’m so fucking sorry, Damon. I’m so sorry.”

At that moment, I wasn’t looking for his sympathy. I didn’t want his assurances that everything would be okay, that we’d somehow work it all out. My guilt and shame were such a heavy burden, I couldn’t even lift my eyes to look into his. But I knew it paled in comparison to the burdens Damon carried on a daily basis.

All I wanted was to take responsibility for what had happened and to show I’d face whatever the consequences of my actions were. If I could’ve gone back in time and changed everything, I would have. But there was a reason why they say hindsight is 20/20. There was a reason why the road to hell is paved with good intentions. There was a reason why saying I’m sorry doesn’t automatically make everything right again.

“What can I do? Can I talk to your parents? Can I try to help them understand what happened, and why, so they’ll forgive you? Tell me what will help you, Damon, and I’ll do it.”

“You really want to know what will help me, Jillian?”

Summoning all the courage I had left inside me, I raised my chin from my chest and looked directly into his sad eyes. The sexy chocolate brown shade in them had lost some of its luster to weariness and bereavement, driving the dagger further into my chest. Regardless of the pain, I had to face it because my indecision and lack of foresight had cost us both dearly.

“Yes, I do. Tell me, and I’ll make it happen for you.”

“No matter what it is?”

“No matter what it is.”

He studied me for a minute, his eyes moving back and forth between mine before roaming over my face. The sincerity I saw in them would’ve moved me to tears had I not already been crying. “Marry me.”

My bottom jaw dropped in surprise. That wasn’t at all what I expected him to say. “What?” My shocked reply came out as a whisper. “Damon, I’m serious. What will fix this rift in your family so you can be happy again?”

“The only family rift I care about fixing is the one between us, Jillian. The only people I need in my life to be happy are you and our babies you’re carrying. This room is far from the romantic setting where I wanted to propose to you, to ask you to be my wife and spend the rest of your life with me. But considering just a few hours ago I thought your life would end right before my eyes, I’m just thankful you’re sitting here with me right now.

“We’re adults, so let’s be frank with each other. I know you want me as much as I want you. But you should know something else about me by now. I don’t share what’s mine, and I’ve already decided you belong to me. Now, say you’ll marry me as soon as possible, because I’ve been as patient as I’m capable of being.”

Something feral and dangerous flashed in his eyes, reminding me of the Damon Marchetti I first met. The man with the confident swagger, the commanding presence, and the exciting air of intrigue surrounding him. As much as Benny’s death hurt me, and no doubt hurt Damon, I realized then that Damon had lost many other friends in his lifetime. His grief over Benny was no less important, but maybe the frequency of his losses had dulled the sting of death over time.

But, in his heart, I was different from everyone else in his life. He’d told me he couldn’t handle losing me. The man who sat beside me with a cool, collected exterior moments after losing his best friend would’ve crumbled had that stray bullet taken my life instead. I believed him when he said he only needed me to be happy.

“Yes, I will marry you, Damon. Because you’re all I need to be happy, too.”

His smile returned a little of the mischievous gleam to his eyes, but I didn’t miss the underlying threat they still held. An animal is more dangerous when it’s wounded. But Damon was more lethal when he was afraid. And the only thing he feared was that someone would hurt me.

When he kissed me, my nerves all lit at once, as if I’d touched a live wire. Life with him would never be dull, that was for damn sure.

“Thank you for not forcing me to take extreme measures to get that answer out of you. Let’s go back to my place, feed you, and try to get some sleep.” He linked our fingers together and stood, helping me up as he went.

“Will we be safe there, Damon? Will your family come after us?”

“Don’t worry, doll. I’ll keep you safe.”

He meant for his dismissal of my fears to make me feel better by not giving them credence, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that everything would soon come to a head. Like a shaken soda bottle would explode in someone’s face when opened, the bombshell news of Benny’s death would ripple throughout the family and blow up in all of our faces.

“Damon, Lorenzo killed Benny. Even though his gun accidentally went off, your uncle will not see it that way. And he won’t care. When he finds out we didn’t kill Lorenzo, he’ll be furious and could come after you.”

“Maybe.” Damon shrugged, giving no sign he was concerned in the least. “Time will tell.”

An hour later, the sun was high and glimmered against the high-rise buildings of Manhattan as we pulled into Damon’s security-controlled garage underneath his building. We took the express elevator to the penthouse apartment he owned, and he locked it when we exited. Then he made sure the stairwell was locked and called the concierge desk with strict instructions for no visitors, regardless of who it was.

When his phone rang a few minutes later, my stomach dropped to my feet, knowing it was the beginning of the end. But his shoulders seemed to carry a little less weight when he hung up. “Now that that’s done, let’s get you something to eat.”

“Now that what’s done? Who was that? What’s going on?”

“Just a few of my guys who heard the whole story, beginning to end, and have pledged to remain loyal to me. Nothing to worry about, doll.”

“No, there’s nothing to see here. No coming mafia family war. No World War Three scenario playing out in front of us. Just another normal day on the farm.”

He chuckled, that dark laugh that rumbled in his chest and shot an arrow straight into my libido. “Omelets with spinach and bacon, it is. You can jump in the shower while I cook if you want.”

“I’m not turning that offer down.”

Damon’s shower was amazing. The multiple heads spraying from different directions felt like fingers massaging away the tension while washing away the grime from the night. I lathered up with his body wash despite the masculine scent it left on my skin. At least I would fall asleep wrapped in all things that made me think of Damon.

After we finished eating, I slid between the sheets while Damon showered. I pushed back the memories of the last time we were in that exact position, minus the knife missing from underneath my pillow. Within a few minutes, I felt the dip in the mattress when Damon eased into bed with me. I opened my eyes, taking in his shirtless torso, the peaks and valleys of his muscles, the way he moved with the agility of a finely tuned athlete.

He settled into bed facing me, unable to hide the exhaustion in his eyes, or his love. Through everything, I still saw his love for me in them.

“Is there anywhere you’ve always dreamed of getting married? I’ll take you there, and we’ll make it official immediately.”

I loved these conversations with Damon when he wasn’t the Marchetti family capo. He was just Damon, the man. My man.

“My dream place is a little too far for a quick trip, I’m afraid.”

“Yeah? Where’s that?”

“Hawaii.”

He stroked my cheek with his thumb. “How about I take you to Maui for an extended honeymoon soon, but first we jet off to the Bahamas for a nice, warm, toes-in-the-sand beach wedding?”

“That sounds like heaven, Damon.”