Chapter 15

Damien

When Penny comes out of the bathroom, I see the relief in her body. I don’t blame her; I feel relieved myself. When they told me the other girls made it out before the explosion happened, I nearly fell to the ground with relief.

All the shit I went through and had to do paid off. And with the additional information I could provide the FBI, there is enough to go on to find and prosecute clients of the organization. It’s a long shot, but the ability to save many more lives is in play.

Mission fucking accomplished.

Which brings me full circle, except for one thing: the woman standing in front of me. She wasn’t part of the plan, and they are pissed. But I don’t care, because I refuse to send her home. Even when I told them the reasons she can’t go home, they didn’t care.

Fuck that.

I know she has other options regardless of what they say, but I have a plan of my own. Another option that will give her all the protection she needs. The only problem is convincing her to do it.

“What is it, Damien?” she asks, like she senses the turmoil in my mind. I debate whether telling her about what they said about her is a clever idea, but if I want her to continue trusting me, I need to.

“They’re talking about sending you home,” I explain and watch her eyes grow big and wide, and the air in my lungs becomes trapped.

“I can’t…” she trails off, the relief she felt moments ago lost at my words. She’s right. She can’t go back, and I’ll be damned if I let them send her home.

“That’s what I told them.” I step toward her, pulling her into my arms, trying to calm her now shaking body.

“You did?”

“Yes.” My finger finds her chin, and I add pressure, lifting her face to mine. Her crystal-blue eyes are soft and worry-filled. But I can’t help the warmth pooling in my body. When she looks at me like that, I almost forget all the bad I’ve ever seen or felt in my life. “There is a way we can keep you here, but I don’t know how you’ll feel about it.”

“I will do anything, Damien. Please, I cannot go back home.” She grips my arms, and I pull her in tighter. She means it, too. I can feel it in the way she lets me hold her. “Tell me what I have to do.”

I swallow hard, clamping down on the sudden panic I feel. The words come out before I can stop them. “Marry me.”

“Marry you?”

“Yes, marry me.” I smile but have a tough time doing it. She leans back. Her eyes seek out mine, but before she can say anything, I ramble on. “I don’t know what the custom is where you’re from, but here—”

“I know what marriage is, Damien. It’s a pretty simple universal concept.” She frowns. She’s not entirely right, but I don’t want to burst her bubble. Plus, I’m terrified of her answer. “What I don’t understand is why you’re saying this.”

“My contacts in the FBI are refusing to hear me out. This is the only thing I could think of that would keep you here, keep you safe, and make it legal.” My smile is gone as the seriousness of the situation begins to weigh heavily in the room. “I asked for them to make it legally possible for us to get married, a favor after everything that’s gone wrong with this assignment.”

“A favor?”

“The paperwork,” I explain before taking a deep breath and coming clean with her. “Despite everything, you’re here as an illegal, and while there are other options you can utilize to help keep you here, they can’t guarantee them.”

“Marriage isn’t a guarantee either,” she points out, and she’s right. Either way, it’s a risk. But with this risk, I will be a part of the equation. I need her to say yes, and I will push even harder for it. “For us to be married, there has to be a slew of paperwork to make it happen.”

“Yes, but I’ve asked them to overlook most of it, as a favor.” I know miracles can happen. I know they can do this for us. For her.

“Why are you doing this?” she asks and shakes her head in disbelief.

“Because I want to help you.”

“But, Damien, you don’t want to marry me.”

“I want you to be safe,” I explain, but I can tell by the look on her face that she doesn’t believe me.

“There are other options, options that will make me just as safe—”

“Not the way you should be. I can make sure of it.”

“I’m not your responsibility,” she protests. Her voice grows louder with each word. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“That’s not what this is about—”

“Marriage is a big deal for me.”

“It would be a temporary situation,” I insist, but she pushes back and steps out of my reach.

“Damien—”

“I know this isn’t how you probably imagined it, and yes, you’re absolutely right. There are other ways to make you safe, but this… this is the only way I can think of to give myself peace of mind. It’s a marriage of convenience I’m offering. Nothing more. And after the right amount of time, we can file for an annulment, and it will be like it never happened.”

“A marriage of convenience? Damien, I can’t do it.” Her voice is small but sure. “I know I said I’d do anything, but marriage shouldn’t take place as a favor to someone.”

“Penny...”

“No, Damien.” She takes two more steps back. “I appreciate your willingness, but I can’t marry you. We hardly know each other.”

I rock back on my heels, frowning down at her. “You could be deported.”

It’s a low blow and not likely to happen. But she doesn’t know that. And while I’ve been honest with her up until now, I can’t seem to figure out why I let the lie slip past my lips.

“Everything else takes time and comes with more red tape than you think. Maybe they won’t send you home. Maybe the will grant you asylum. But for how long? There’s no proof your stepfather sold you, and when your family is contacted for more infromation, they will lie. What do you think Miguel will do when he finds out you’re alive and free?”

I can’t lose her.

The words hit me like a ton of bricks.

But she’s not mine to keep, I tell myself. Fuck, I’m not ready for these thoughts any more than I’m ready to let her go.

“I know I’m not the man you see waking up to every morning, exploring life with, making a family with. Hell, I’m not even sure if I want those things. But even if it’s just temporary, I’d be honored to be called your husband and make sure you never have to go back and face that asshole.”

“Trapping both of us into a loveless and awkward marriage isn’t the answer, Damien,” she argues. “I understand and appreciate you want to make sure I’m okay, but my answer is still no. I can’t and won’t marry you.”

She turns away and walks out of the motel room.

I watch her go, trying to figure out why I can’t let her go.