Flawed (Blaze of Glory #2) (12 page)

“Oh come on, sure you do kitten. Shannon owns this little
establishment
.” He puts extra emphasis on the word as though it’s dirty.

“Why are you looking for them?” I demand. How dare he speak about my family this way?

He gives a short bark of laughter that causes a shiver to run through me. “Let’s just say they owe me.”

“What could my sister possibly owe you?” I gasp, slapping a hand over my mouth as I immediately realize my mistake. His eyes grow wide in shock, before he laughs again. “Sister, huh?” he sneers. “Imagine that.” His gaze slides over me, leaving me feeling dirty. “I suppose I see the resemblance. Though, you’ve put on weight since I last saw you…” His eyes move from my engorged breasts to my stomach, his upper lip curling in a strange combination of lust and disgust. I clasp my hands protectively across my stomach and his eyes are drawn to it, his eyes opening wide in shock as realization occurs. He licks his lips and rubs a hand over his mouth, his eyes flying back up to meet mine.

“No,” I whisper, my eyes wide.

“You’re fucking pregnant, aren’t you?” he gasps. “You little slut. You’re having my baby, and you didn’t bother to tell me?”

I shake my head vehemently. “I don’t even know your name,” I whisper, squeezing my eyes shut. He lets out a short bark of laughter as he closes the gap between us, forcing me to bend backwards over the bar. “That’s the beauty of it, isn’t it?” he sneers. “You’ve met me before, in another life, yet neither of us knew who the other was. Tell me, Natalie.” His low voice is harsh against my ear. “Does your sister still bear the scars I gave her?”

My face pales and I shake my head. “It can’t be,” I say. “There’s no way.”

“Troy!” Keets yells, running out of the office. Troy immediately steps back and assumes a relaxed pose.

“Keets,” he nods. “Long time, no see.”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Keets snarls. “You’re meant to be in prison.”

“Oh, I was released.” Troy chuckles. “Didn’t you hear? When Stone got that little ‘confession’ out of me, he got it by force. That makes it inadmissible in court. The ruling was overturned at the appeal. I’m a free man.”

“Well, enjoy it while it lasts,” Keets says icily. “Because come Hell or high water, I will make sure you pay for what you did to Shannon and Natalie’s father.”

I gape as I look back and forth between the two of them. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Troy throws his head back and roars with laughter. “Oh, my dear,” he says with a grin. “Your little boyfriend here seems to think I harmed your daddy. Well, maybe I did, and maybe I didn’t.” He winks. “But you can bet your bottom dollar I’ll be seeing you real soon, Nat.”

I shiver as he runs a lone finger down my arm. Keets growls and Troy laughs again, pulling his hand back and walking to the door. It slams closed behind him and I slump against the bar and lean forward, trying to catch my breath. “Are you okay?” Keets asks, grabbing my arm to stop me from falling. “You’re deathly white. Here, take a seat.” He leads me over to a table and gestures for me to sit down, while he sits opposite me. “Do you know him?”

I debate how much to tell Keets. It’s true that I didn’t know who Troy was when I slept with him, and now that knowledge makes me sick. To think I’m pregnant by the man who beat my sister and killed my father—it’s almost like an episode of
Jerry Springer.
Keets has been here for me since day one and although it’s only been a week, I somehow feel closer to him than anyone else in my life right now. Still… there’s the whole issue of Liz, whoever she is. It’s often been said that drunk people are the most honest. Whoever this Liz is, Keets clearly loves her and would do anything to be with her. He lied to me, and no matter what his intentions are, I can’t move past that.

“Only as Shannon’s ex,” I lie, shaking my head. He seems satisfied with that answer and stands up, removing his glasses to clean them.

“I’m going to call Shan and Stone, let them know,” he says, putting his glasses back on.

“No,” I gasp, grabbing his arm when he makes a move to walk away. He can’t tell Shannon, she will never forgive me. It doesn’t matter that I didn’t know who he was, I fucked her abusive ex; I’m having his baby. There’s no coming back from that.

“What is it?” Keets asks, taking his seat once more. “Natalie, what’s wrong?”

“You can’t tell her,” I begin, looking at him helplessly, trying to come up with a good enough reason for him to believe me, without spilling the beans about the baby. “She’s on vacation, let her enjoy it while it lasts.”

“I wish I could,” he says gently, stroking the back of my hand with his thumb. “But wouldn’t you want to know if the man who took you away from your family and abused you for years was let out of prison?” I can’t look at him right now, so I simply nod and keep my head averted as he walks away into the office. Letting out a loud sigh, I drop my head down on the table, groaning at the sudden pain in my forehead.

What the hell am I going to do?

KEETS

Well, how the hell was I to know he’d be let out?” I yell into the phone. I’ve been talking to Stone for the past hour, and so far all I’ve managed is to get a blistering headache. Removing my glasses, I set them down on the desk and rub my tired eyes. It’s obvious that Natalie was lying to me when she said she didn’t know Troy. Unfortunately, until she’s prepared to talk, there’s really nothing I can do about it. Right now though, my focus needs to be on the angry man on the other end of the phone.

“Is Natalie all right?” Shannon asks, having clearly taken the phone away from Stone because I can still hear him yelling in the background. “How’s Zeke?”

“Nat’s fine. Zeke, too,” I tell her. “He’s staying with one of his friends.”

“Well, we’ll be home on the next available flight,” she promises. Now, I feel worse. Do they think I can’t handle the situation? “That’s not necessary,” I argue, but Shannon cuts me off.

“Look, Keets, I know you can handle this, okay?”
Is she reading my mind?
“But this bastard touched my sister. I need to be there in case he turns up again.”

I sigh and hang my head in shame.
Leave it to me to make it all about myself.
“Of course, I understand,” I mumble. When I end the call, I sit for a few minutes, thinking about everything that just happened. It’s pretty damn obvious that Natalie is hiding something, but having only known her for a week so it’s really not my place to pry. It’s not as though we’re a couple or anything. But there’s no denying the terror in her eyes when I saw him standing over her in the bar. She knows him from somewhere else; I know that much for certain. But where? When? And in what capacity? None of it makes any sense to me, and I have the feeling I’ll go crazy if I try to work it out right now.

Leaving the office, I find Natalie gone. At first, I panic, thinking maybe Troy came back, but I quickly force myself to calm down and relax. Natalie’s a smart, young woman; she can take care of herself. Moving behind the bar, I pour myself a shot of bourbon and down it quickly, then follow it up with a chaser of beer. Taking my drink over to a table by the window, I sit down and stare out at the world.

“Damien, what is all this?” She laughs as I help her into her seat. I’ve organized to have our favorite booth at the bar blocked off and decorated with paper hearts and balloons. It looks like a five-year-old did it, but hopefully she understands the sweet gesture.

“Liz,” I say with a smile, holding out my hand. She takes it and we intertwine our fingers, laying them on the table. She looks so damn beautiful tonight, with her long, dark hair pulled back away from her face and left to curl artfully down her back. She’s always looked hot, but tonight, in that killer red dress with no back? Oh, my God, if we didn’t have plans I’d be taking her home and bending her over right now. My cock grows hard and I shift to adjust it in my black slacks. I made the point of wearing a suit tonight, something I hate but I know she loves. Tonight, it’s all about her. Clearing my throat, I try again. “Liz, you know I love you, right?”

“Of course, Damien, and I love you.”

“I can never offer you the world, but I can promise you that you’ll always be my world.”

“Then I will never want for anything.” She beams, and my heart soars with love.

“Well, in that case,” I say, letting go of her hand and climbing out of my seat. I feel every single eye in the bar trained on me as I get down on one knee then pull out a small red velvet box and open it. She gasps when she sees the white gold band, set with a large square-shaped diamond, with more diamonds along the band. It’s simple, beautiful, and I knew as soon as I saw it that it was the one for her. “Liz, will you marry me?”

“Oh, my God!” she screeches, tears running down her face as she stands and pulls me up, kissing me hard. I’ll take that as a yes, as thunderous applause breaks out all around us.

I pull back and take the ring from the box, sliding it on her finger. It’s a perfect fit, as I knew it would be; I had her mother give me her ring size two weeks ago. When we’re seated once more, I order a bottle of champagne to celebrate. But when it arrives, Liz surprises me by refusing a glass. “Are you feeling all right?” I ask, worried.

“Of course.” She smiles. “But I can’t drink tonight.”

“If you’re worried about driving, we can get a cab home and pick the car up tomorrow. I’m sure they—”

“It’s not that.” She grins, interrupting me. “Do you remember when I was sick last week and went to the doctor?” She sits there with a knowing smile on her face, waiting for me to figure it out. By the time it dawns on me, she’s almost crying from laughing so hard.

“Are you serious?” I whisper, tears of happiness stinging my own eyes. She nods and I let out a loud yell, jumping up from the chair and punching the air. “I’m going to be a father!” Everyone in the bar cheers once more, and I fall back into my seat with a huge grin on my face. “How long?” I ask, out of breath from all of the excitement.

“About eight weeks,” Liz grins.

“Liz, I can’t… I don’t… fuck, babe, I don’t know what to say!” I can’t wipe the smile from my face right now, and everyone here knows it.

“You don’t have to say anything.” She smiles once more, grabbing my hand and holding it tight. “This is the start of the rest of our lives together. I can’t wait to see what happens next.”

A loud clap of thunder startles me from my memory, and I blink in surprise as I realize it’s raining heavily outside. A quick glance at the clock on the wall shows I’ve been lost in my thoughts for the past hour… and my beer has gone warm.

I stand up and stretch, glancing around the bar. It’s closed tonight for a function that was cancelled, so it’s just Natalie and me.

Natalie. Shit.

Doing a cursory check around the bar, I see that it’s empty. “Nat?” I call, listening for her voice, but I hear nothing above the thunder. Dammit, where is she? Pacing around the bar, I try to think of what to do. Do I go after her? Call her?
Right. Idiot. They have phones now.
Racing into the office, I drag out Shannon’s address book from the top drawer and flip through until I find the number I need. Punching it into the phone, I listen to Nat’s cell phone ring hollowly in my ear.
Shit.
Hanging up, I grab my leather jacket and slip it on as I exit the office and walk through the bar and out the front door. The rain has made the ground especially slippery, and I am forced to quickly grab onto the side of the brick wall to stop myself from slipping ass up in the mud. The rain pelts heavily on the top of my head and creates a speckled view through my glasses. Keeping my head tucked down, I pull my jacket up around my ears as I try to keep the sting of the water out of my eyes.

“Natalie!” I call out, but my voice is drowned out by a loud clap of thunder.
Fuck, where is she?
A movement to my right catches my eye, and I turn my head in time to see a small figure huddled against a tree in a field about a hundred yards away. Cupping my hands around my mouth, I call out again, “Natalie!” and the figure looks up. Anger courses through me as she makes no move to walk toward me. What the hell is she doing out here? Does she really care so little about her own safety?

I break out into a run across the field, but as fast as I run, I’m still soaked through by the time I reach her side. “What the hell are you doing out here?” I demand, barely able to see her through the water covering my glasses. Taking them off, I tuck them into my jacket pocket and rub my hands over her bare arms. She’s soaking wet, her hair is plastered to her head and her teeth are starting to chatter. I need to get her inside, now.

“Come on,” I say, lifting her gently up into my arms and walking carefully back across the field and into the bar. Taking her straight through to the bathroom, I stand her back on her feet and remove her wet clothing. There’s a formality to it, a means to an end. This isn’t about seduction. This is about survival.

When we’re both naked, I turn the shower on, adjusting the faucets until a steady stream of warm water pours out. Taking her hands, I gently lead her under the water with me, gripping her tighter as she gasps and tries to pull away. “Shhh,” I whisper, pulling her into my arms. “I know it hurts, just let the water do its job.” Her shoulders shake and I instinctively know she’s crying, but whether it’s in pain or frustration, I have no idea. I hold her still beneath the water, trapped in my arms as I allow it to soak into our bodies and create a vacuum of warmth around us. I keep her there until her teeth stop chattering. When I finally let her go, she stands there mutely, no longer attempting to run away. Picking up a clean cloth sitting on the bench by the shower, I pour a generous amount of sweet smelling bath gel into it, working up a lather before I touch her. When the cloth passes over her shoulder she winces and closes her eyes. Brushing her wet hair away from her neck, my eyes narrow at the fresh gouges in her pale skin, clearly made by her fingernails. Dropping the washcloth to the bottom of the shower, my fingers lightly touch the wound, immediately pulling back when she winces again. “Sorry,” I mumble, my eyes searching hers as she keeps her head downcast. I can’t understand why she keeps doing this to herself. Is there any way to help this woman who’s already come to mean so much to me? Reaching for the 2-in-1 shampoo bottle, I squirt a little into my palms, rubbing them together before smoothing them over her blonde hair, being extra careful not to go too close to her new wound. As my strong fingers massage her scalp, I feel her begin to relax until her legs almost give way beneath her. Supporting her with one arm wrapped around her waist, I use my free hand to gently guide her head beneath the stream of warm water, washing away all traces of the soap. Turning the faucet off, I help her out of the stall, grabbing a large, white, fluffy towel that’s sitting on the heated rack. I wrap it around her body, enveloping her in its thick warmth before leading her back into the bedroom.