Cara
I lay in bed staring at the ceiling as shafts of sunlight slanted in through my blinds, thankfully leaving most of my room in murky shadow. The darkness was better to hide my shame. I couldn't believe that I'd slept with Damian. I just couldn't believe it. He was the opposite of everything I'd been trying to build in my life – a criminal, outlaw, hoodlum who probably took perverse pleasure in hurting people.
He was one of the Kings of Chaos – Fernwood's notorious biker gang. Yeah, he defied a lot of the stereotypes I associated with the Kings. He was kind. Sweet. And yeah, I was probably throwing a lot of sweeping generalizations on him because I was freaking out about the fact that I'd had sex with him. In the very bed I was laying in. Only hours ago.
I couldn't believe I'd slept with him. But I had. That was the reality of the situation.
After we'd had sex – it was still difficult for me to actually admit it, even if only to myself – I'd sent him out to the living room to sleep on the couch. The last thing I'd wanted or needed was Austin waking up in the middle of the night to find a strange man in my bed. That was a conversation I most certainly wasn't going to have with my five-year-old.
What we'd done – the sex – had been good. Really good. Mind-blowingly good, if I were being honest. But it was something that couldn't happen again. I'd spent my entire adult life trying to get away from the element that people like Damian and my mother surrounded themselves with. I wanted to set a good example for my son and never have him be touched by the drama or terror I'd known because of people like that.
I wanted a good life for Austin. And I wanted to keep him free from drugs, violence, and crime for as long as I could. I wasn't willing to invite that into his world.
Only, I had accidentally invited it into my world, and it had almost gotten me killed last night. If not for Damian risking his life to save me… I really shudder to think what might have happened. If it were up to that Ray Mendoza guy, I'd either be his personal sex pet or sold into the sex trade. Or the third option, of course, was that he'd make me his personal sex pet and then sell me into the sex trade.
But if it had been up to his guys, I'd be dead. I knew and had seen too much. I was a risk to all of them, and they knew it. Which meant that this whole ordeal might not be over just yet. I was still going to have to look over my shoulder whenever I was out, so I didn't get snatched up again. At least until Damian could figure a way to get me out of this mess.
The only thing I had going for me at that moment was the fact that Mendoza and his MC – the Fantasmas – didn't know my name or where I lived. Thankfully. And I needed to keep it that way.
I sighed. This was my life. It was a life I'd worked so damn hard to avoid being pulled into. I'd grown up around criminals. My mother had done some terrible things to me – including trying to sell me for sex on her own – and once I was able to get out of that house and out of that life, I'd vowed that I would never be around that element again.
And I was furious that, despite doing everything right for myself and for my little boy, there I was once again.
Damn Damian Hawke for getting himself shot and coming into my ER. Damn him for bringing that element into my world. And damn me for allowing it in.
I lay there, wondering what I was going to do about the biker on my couch, and how best to extract myself from the situation entirely, when the sound of Austin screaming sent a jolt of terror-fueled adrenaline surging through me.
I was out of bed and throwing my robe on over my still naked body before his screams stopped. Throwing open the door, I bolted down the hallway to the living room, where his voice was coming from.
“Austin?” I called. “What's wrong?”
I stepped into the living room, and it took me a moment to comprehend what I was seeing. Damian was holding Austin upside down by his feet. My little boy's face was red, but he was smiling and squealing with delight. Damian was also smiling as he dipped Austin close to the floor before hauling him back up.
He looked over and noticed me standing there watching – an obviously horrified expression on my face. Damian cleared his throat and picked Austin up, turning him over, and setting him back down on his feet on the living room floor. Austin immediately threw his hands up, giggling and smiling at the large man.
“More,” Austin demanded. “Do it again.”
Damian motioned toward me, and when my little boy looked over, he waved.
“You okay, baby?” I asked.
He nodded enthusiastically. “He's fun,” Austin chirped. “Do it again.”
I walked in and ruffled his hair. “Maybe later,” I said. “It's time for your breakfast, sweetheart.”
He turned and raced off to the kitchen, leaving me alone with Damian. The air in the room seemed like it had suddenly been sucked out and replaced with tension and awkwardness. I avoided his eyes, and he avoided mine. We just stood there like a couple of shy, awkward teenagers after a heavy petting session.
“I–I should go get him some cereal,” I said and motioned toward the kitchen.
“Yeah,” Damian said. “Probably should.”
I walked into the kitchen to find Austin already seated at the table, waiting patiently for me. He raised his hands for me to pick him up.
“Again, Mama?”
I smiled but shook my head. “Not right now, honey.”
I poured him a bowl of cereal and set it down on the table. He snapped up his spoon and dug in – apparently thinking if he ate faster, he could go play with Damian again.
“Slow down and chew, Austin,” I said. “This isn't a race.”
He grinned at me but slowed his pace down. I walked back into the living room and noticed that the air of awkwardness remained as thick as ever. Damian was standing at the window, looking out at the street. Watching him standing there, I was overwhelmed by images of armed men – the guys who'd taken me from the hospital – storming my house.
I knew that some of the had escaped and were still out there. I knew that this wasn't over. And my immediate fear was that they'd figured out who I was and where I lived.
“What is it?” I asked, a slight tremor in my voice.
Damian shook his head and looked at me as if I'd just pulled him out of a deep sleep. He cocked his head, clearly not hearing a single word I'd just said.
“I'm sorry,” he said. “What did you say?”
“You're staring out the window so intently. I was worried—”
“Oh no, sorry,” he replied. “I was just thinking. I didn't mean to worry you. Nobody's out there.”
I nodded and felt my heart rate begin to slow. “Good. That's a relief.”
Damian looked at me, and I could tell he wanted to say something – I just hoped it wasn't about what I feared it was going to be about. This wasn't a conversation I wanted to have. Not now. Not ever.
“Listen, about last night—” he started.
I held my hand up to stop him. “Look, it was what it was,” I said, pitching my voice low so Austin couldn't hear me. “It was a one-time deal. Call it a side effect of almost being killed. I don't expect this to be some big romance. It was nice. I had fun. Can we just leave it at that?”
An expression I couldn't quite identify crossed his face, and he looked taken aback. I wasn't sure why, though. Given his reputation as a lady killer – at least, back in the day – I would have thought I'd see nothing but pure relief crossing his face knowing that I wasn't going to be some needy, clingy girl. I would have thought he would’ve welcomed the no-strings-attached, one night of passion.
But something on his face told me something different. Or maybe I was just screwed up in my own head and seeing signals that weren't really there.
Damian nodded. “Okay. Yeah. Good.”
“Good,” I replied. “Glad we got that cleared up.”
“Yeah, me too,” he said with a nervous-sounding chuckle.
“Now,” I said and pointed to his bandages. “I need to have a look at those. I'll probably need to change your dressing. You certainly didn't do yourself any favors by roughhousing with Austin. You need to let your body rest and heal, Damian.”
He snapped me a salute. “Aye aye, Cap'n.”
I smiled. “I'm serious. You're never going to heal up if you keep opening your wounds. And if you don't, I'm never going to get you off my couch.”
“Off your couch?” he asked, a slow grin spreading across his face. “I thought it was a one-time deal?”
“The–last night, yes,” I said. “No repeat performances. But I can't send you back to the hospital. Not with those creeps running around trying to kill you. And I can't trust you to take care of yourself if I send you home. Which leaves us one option.”
His grin was wide. “So, you're gonna be my personal nurse,” he said. “Nice. I like it.”
“Yeah, well, don't get used to it.”
I hadn't planned on any of this when I'd brought him home the night before. Of course, I hadn't planned on being kidnapped and either killed or sold into the sex trade, either. It had certainly never entered my mind as a possibility when I left work that night.
But what could I do? Sending him back to the hospital was a death sentence. I knew enough to know that. Same with sending him home – he was too weak to take care of himself yet. Which left one option – for me to care of him here at my home.
He'd put his own life at risk to save mine. What kind of monster would I be if I turned him out to suffer his fate on his own now?
Keeping him here, though, did present plenty of nightmare scenarios on its own. Take Austin for example. The last thing I wanted was for him to get attached to Damian – and he already thought he was Mr. Fun after this morning's activities. But he was too young for me to explain that we didn't want people like Damian in our lives. That although he might be a good guy, he did bad, bad things. Things I didn't want him around or exposed to. I didn't want Austin to grow up like I did – scared most of the time.
But how can you explain that to a five-year-old? You couldn't. Which left me in my current quandary.
“Come on,” I said. “I need to check your bandages.”
Damian followed me down to the guest bedroom, took off his shirt, and laid on the bed as I'd instructed him to do. I left the door open because although I didn't want Austin being witness to this, I also couldn't leave him unattended. And because it was my day off, Mandy wasn't going to be there today – which was probably good, all things considered. I'd just throw a blanket over Damian if I heard his little footsteps headed my way.
Of course, I was going to have to figure out what to tell her about Damian when she did come back. But I could kick that can down the road for the day. I'd figure something out and deal with it later.
I stepped into my room and took my kit out of the closet. I always kept a bag of supplies in my closet because you never knew when you might need them. I had everything from sutures and bandages to antibiotics and painkillers. I was prepared – something Damian should be thanking me for.
I dropped the bag on my bed and leaned over the bandages on his arm and shoulder. Gently peeling them off, I was surprised to find that they were in pretty good shape, all things considered. There didn't seem to be any abnormal bleeding, nor had he re-opened the wounds during last night's fiasco – and this morning's scramble with my son.
All things considered, Damian had come through his ordeal extraordinarily well. I would have thought that after taking four bullets, he would have been in worse shape than he was. But the ones in his shoulder and arm had passed clean through with no extra damage. And the ones in his stomach and chest had narrowly avoided hitting any vital organs.
All in all, Damian Hawke was a lucky, lucky man.
“These two look good,” I said. “You didn't manage to damage yourself any further.”
“Thanks, Ma,” Damian said.
“I'm going to put on an antibiotic salve and change your dressings,” I said. “How are you feeling?”
“A little stiff. Sore. The one in my gut still hurts like hell. But all things considered, I'm feelin' pretty damn good about bein' alive.”
“As you should,” I said and flashed him a grin. “You're a really fortunate guy – not everybody gets the top-notch care you got at my hospital.”
“And I appreciate that,” he replied, his expression serious. “You saved my life, Cara.”
I shook my head. “I assisted. The surgeon did all the heavy lifting.”
He took my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “So you've said. But, thank you.”
I smiled. “You're welcome.”