by Dani Wyatt
“No, baby—”
“You asked me to give myself to you. Give, not be taken against my will. I’m done with no one asking me what I want. Everyone just thinking they know better. Well guess what? I do know what I want. I do know what’s best for me and right now? That. Is. Not. You.”
She spins, walking through the gate, and I fight the urge to run to her, to scoop her up, to throw her over my shoulder and do exactly what she’s asking me not to do.
Control her.
It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, but I let her walk away. Her white sundress fading to gray as she marches down the path. My only relief is that she will, in time, have to come back to the house. There’s no car to drive off the island, no ferry to catch.
When she does, I’ll be there waiting, hat in my hand, ready to do whatever it takes to be the man she needs me to be. I fucked up. I thought I knew better but turns out I was wrong.
Back inside the house, I make my way to my office. I throw a chair against the door. Break a lamp. Kick the wall until the plaster crumbles and pain shoots up from my toes, leaving me heaving and screaming at the ceiling.
I drop down into a chair across from my desk, trying to settle my breathing as I look out the window toward the ocean. The waves are breaking on the shore, the wind has picked up and the sun is only a strip of orange on the horizon.
What I hear next turns my blood cold, and I’m on my feet bolting toward my office door.
“No, Doralee...fuck, no, please...” By the time I hit the back terrace, I’m too late.
The engine from the powerboat I docked when I came back revs and I see the lights heading out to sea. It’s more than ten miles to the next island and she won’t make it without gas.
“Fuck.”
I dig my phone from my pocket and hit the last number on my recent calls.
“Captain Baker here, Mr. Lassiter. What can I do for you? We’ll be heading your way in about forty-five minutes, as planned.”
“Change of plans. I need you to head this way, at top speed, right fucking now.”
“Yes, sir. It will take us about thirty minutes to get there if we push the engines—”
“Push them. As hard as you fucking can. I need you here right now. I’ll be waiting at the dock, don’t tie off, just throw down a ladder, I’ll jump on.”
“Sir, is everything okay?”
“Just get here.” I click off as the last flicker of the lights from the boat carrying my entire world disappears out into the ocean.
Chapter Twelve
Doralee
“NO, NO, nononono....”
My eyes burn as I turn the key over and over, but the engine sputters then stops.
The waves are lapping up over the sides of the boat and the wind has turned it sideways on the black water.
The lights are still on, thank god, and as I spin around, I can still see the lights of the Damon’s island in the distance. I was so angry, I just wanted to get away. I thought there was enough light left that I could head in the direction of the big island and get there, but the sun set so fast, then the boat started to sputter, and too late I noticed the red light on the gas gauge indicating the source of the problem.
What started as one of the best days of my life has turned into one of the worst and my heart feels like it’s imploding, taking every warm feeling from me and turning it all to ash.
I drop my head to the cool metal of the steering wheel as I think of the faces of my two babies. Their squished-up noses, their tongues that never seem to quite fit in their mouths. I can smell them. Feel the softness of their ears. Hear the way they would snore next to me when they took over the pillow, one on each side. I wonder what their last moments were like. If they wondered why I’d abandoned them. If it was quick, if whoever took them from me was kind or if they were scared and fighting for their lives.
The sobs take me completely. My head pounds and emptiness guts me from my toes to my skull.
Why did Damon not tell me the truth?
If he did, would I have gone with him? Trusted him?
I don’t know. Probably not. Every direction my mind tries to go to find a way out, it’s a dead end.
A maze with no way out except more sadness.
I cry until I have no more tears, but the gut wrenching sobs don’t stop.
I’m numb. My ears are buzzing. I’m also feeling cold and the boat is rocking wildly, the waves breaking complexly over the sides, drenching me as I drift, carried to wherever the ocean cares to take me.
Shivering, I crawl to the steps down into the interior cabin, hoping to find a blanket or something, and as I descend, I spot the radio.
I lurch forward, flipping on the switch and the static tells me it’s on.
“Hello? Hello? Is anyone there?”
I switch from one channel to the next, repeating myself, but all I get in return is silence or more static.
The boat lists hard and I fall against the wall, screaming as my hands dart out, grasping at the instruments, trying to find something to hold onto when I look up and see the red button on the wall above the first aid kit.
Emergency Beacon GPS Locator – Push and Hold for Thirty Seconds to Send Distress Signal
I slam my hand down, the button clicks, and I count to thirty. When I hear it beep, and the button starts to pulse with red light, I let go and my heart speeds as I grab a blanket and make my way back to the seat on the upper deck, the wind whipping my wet hair into my face together with salt spray that makes my skin sticky and dry.
The moon is high, full, and I think of all the people that are standing right now in Times Square, waiting for the ball to drop.
Waiting to see what the new year brings.
I have no idea what will wait for me when I get back to New York, or Paris, but I do know one thing. Somehow, someway, I will make my own way. I will never be under someone else’s thumb again.
I’d rather be Doralee the waitress, working in some diner in Nowhere, Ohio who pays her rent on time, takes the bus and spends her weekends at the dog park and the library, than the Doralee that lives on Park Avenue letting everyone else tell her what’s best for her.
That Doralee has sailed, but I know deep down, I still want Damon. I need him. I’ve never felt anything like I have in the last week since he followed me into that ballroom, but I can’t be the same girl he met there.
I have to be me. I have to figure out who that is, and I need someone who wants to be on that journey with me.
I pray he is that someone. I pray I can forgive him. That he wants my forgiveness. That somehow, everything that’s happened has a purpose. That even through the heartbreak, we can find our way.
Pulling the blanket up and over my head, I take a seat on the floor of the deck, my back braced against the wall as I put my head to my knees and let the tears come. This time they are quiet, there is no more energy for my body to clench and seize. I think of my babies, I think of my mother, I think of my father. The way he used to be, before my mom died and Melany came into our lives.
The memories take me as the sound of the wind and the waves fills my ears.
I look down at the deck when I swear, I see a flicker of light from under the blanket. I pick my head up and there it is again. Light, coming over the edge of the boat as it bobs up and down in the waves.
I throw the blanket off, pushing up onto my feet, and yes.
It’s a spotlight.
“I’m here!” I scream, waving my arms wildly. “I’m here! Help!”
The beam of light stops solidly on me, blinding me, but warm relief cascades through me.
They’ve seen me.
It’s a huge boat, there are thousands of lights strung everywhere. It’s New Year’s Eve, so it’s probably a party charter or something, but I don’t care, I just thank God they did.
I keep waving my arms until the horn on the boat sounds and my hands fly to cover my ears.
A minute later it’s fully in view, and I
can’t believe just how big it is. An enormous yacht, turning in a wide circle and slowing before they lower a smaller boat from the side, down into the water. A moment later, its lights come on and it heads in my direction.
As it comes up on the side of the boat, tears start again, only this time it’s gratitude.
“Thank you!” I scream, the lights shining right at me, allowing me to only see the shadows of two figures.
Hands reach out and grab the side of my boat, one lashing a line to a cleat and tying us together as the engine on the rescue boat idles.
“Thank God—” I start as one figure springs up and forward, landing on the deck in front of me, and my heart is in my throat. “Damon?” I say, more to myself than him. “How...” I look at the massive yacht, then into his eyes, filled with tears of their own.
“I’m not losing you, Doralee. I’m not letting you go. I fucked up. I’ll pay for that for the rest of our lives if you’ll let me, but you need to know. It will be the rest of our lives. Together. I can’t live without you.”
His hands draw me into the warmth of his body, and as much as I want to pound on his chest and try to right the wrongs that have already happened, instead I slip my hands around his waist and cling to him like the rock I know he will be.
ONCE WE’RE BACK ONBOARD The Doralee, I change out of my wet clothes as we get underway, and then Damon settles me on an upper deck as he heads inside. The wind has calmed, and the waves are only softly lapping at the sides of the enormous yacht, but a small part of me is still panicked from my time adrift.
“Here you go.” Damon re-appears from an inside salon with two long stem champagne glasses filled with bubbling liquid.
He offers me one, but I shake my head. “I’m not much in the mood for celebrating.” I shrug a shoulder to my ear, forcing a strained smile to my quivering lips and thinking of Glubs and Blubs, my eyes immediately overflowing again, and I cover my face with my hands.
“Baby.” I hear Damon set the glasses down and his hands are around me. “Listen, come here, look at me.”
He pulls my hands from my face and I look up through blurred eyes as he moves to hold my cheeks.
“I’m just not really caring about New Year’s Eve. I’m sorry.”
“Listen to me. The champagne isn’t for New Year’s. It’s for Glubs and Blubs.” The mention of their names makes my throat tighten, and I can’t see how toasting with champagne right now is anything that will help. “They’re alive.”
“What?” I squeeze my eyes shut, then look back to see a smile curving Damon’s lips.
“Not only are they alive, they are currently flying here from New York in a private chartered jet. Then my helicopter will deliver them to the island. They’ll be here in about three hours.”
“What!” I jump up and throw my arms around his neck. “Tell me this isn’t a dream. I didn’t die out there and this is all just...I don’t know. A coma or something.”
His arms tug me into him, tightening around my waist until I can barely breathe. “If it is a dream, or a coma, we’re in it together.”
“I’m not even going to ask you how. You can tell me tomorrow. Right now, I just want to be happy.”
“That’s all I ever wanted, Songbird, for you to be happy. But, I promise you, from now on you will always have a say in whatever decisions are made. That’s my New Year’s resolution to you. I’m sorry I did what I did. But, I did whatever I could to make it right. I have a Pitbull of my own, her name is Margaret and when I told her what was going on with the dogs, she kicked some ass. Also paid off some folks to get them out of the kennel. I told her to spare no expense. Still, what I did, getting you here...I thought it was for the best, for you, but I know now, you get to be the captain of your own ship.”
I lean back, making sure he’s looking into my eyes. “Our ship. I want us both to be captains, together.”
“If that’s what you want, that’s what you’ll get.” He takes a step back, his hand moving down into his pocket as he rubs his eye with the other, then drops to one knee. “Doralee. I never imagined I would have a moment like this in my life. I never imagined I’d have someone like you in my life. But now that you’re here, I can’t imagine a life without you. The Captain is ready, he can marry us out here.”
He flips open a black leather box and the ring inside catches the light from the thousands that are strung all over the boat. The round diamond is as big as a nickel, surrounded with a ring of smaller diamonds that glint and glitter like stars.
Damon slips it from the box as my mouth drops open and he holds the ring to my finger.
“You belong to me already. I belong to you. Marry me, Doralee. Right now, tonight.”
As I choke out the yes, nodding like one of those bobble head dogs, he slips the ring on my finger and the ship’s horn sounds, a brilliant ball of lights flashing above us and slowly descending down a pole.
“You want a big ceremony? Or you want to be married before that ball drops?”
I look up to see the Captain of the ship emerge from the glass doors of the salon, looking to me for approval.
I nod. “Yes. Hurry!” I wave to the Captain who moves toward us, confetti bursting from above and raining down in pink and gold as we hold hands, reciting the short vows just as the ball is nearly down.
From above, on the upper level, party horns sound and we look up to see the rest of the crew. They start the countdown.
“Ten.”
“Nine.”
“Eight.”
We listen as they count down, looking around at the twinkling lights, still unsure this is real.
When they get to one, then zero, the ships horn sounds again. The crew starts to sing, party horns blowing, and the captain leans in, looking at Damon, then at me.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
Damon pulls me against him, dips me down, and crushes his lips to mine.
“Happy New Year, my Songbird. My wife. My forever.”
Chapter Thirteen
Doralee
ONE YEAR LATER
“Baby, hang up.”
I hold up a finger, trying to stall him while I listen to the investor on the other end of the phone.
“I mean it.” His voice hardens as he holds Evangeline on his shoulder, bouncing her softly as he sways back and forth.
I nod but keep listening, and he shakes his head as he strides forward, taking the phone from my hand. I glare, throwing my hands up as I lean back in my office chair.
“Hey, this is Damon. She’ll call you back in a few days. It’s New Year’s Eve. Go have a drink.” He clicks off and sets the phone down on the top of the mahogany desktop.
“Really?” I draw in a sharp breath.
“That guy’s been calling you every fucking day for week since we met him at the closing. There’s nothing about that deal, that is already closed, that is so important he needs to talk to you on New Year’s Eve.”
“Hey, you’re the one that said I have a knack for reading people and getting them to do what we want. I want him to sell me that office building on Fifth Avenue. It’s a good investment, between the other two you own already.”
“You are good. Way better than me even, but baby, it’s New Year’s.”
I let out a sigh, knowing he’s right. It’s just been such a rush finding something I’m good at that I actually enjoy. It wasn’t modeling or piano that ended up being my calling.
It’s the art of the deal.
Although, playing piano and singing is still a favorite pastime, I just realized doing it professionally took the joy from it.
“Come on.” Damon jerks his head and I stand from my chair and follow him out into the great room of our new house in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. We came here to visit when I was pregnant with Evangeline for a real estate deal we were working on for a client, and we fell in love with the place instantly.
A month later, we broke ground on our home. Six hundred and seventy-
two acres of the most beautiful land I’ve ever seen, and a place we both could see as a base for raising our family.
We still keep the penthouse in New York of course, and business takes us there more often than we are here, but our plan is in the next five years to retire.
Damon is already working to get another baby inside of me, and once our first was born it was as though the heavens opened up and being parents felt like we’d both found our true purpose. We haven’t talked so much about how many children we will have, but for the moment we are excited for the next, and the sooner the better.
Growing up as only children, we both want our kids to have that crazy chaos that comes from lots of siblings, and the bonds and friendships only family can provide.
Damon has taken to cooking like a master chef. I’m working back to a weight that feels comfortable and it’s about fifty pounds heavier than I was when I got pregnant.
But that’s okay. Damon loves my curves and I have to say, I do too.
After we left Dove’s Point and came back to the city, we dealt with my father and Melany.
Damon had enough evidence that Melany lost her license to practice. She could have gone to prison if we pushed things, which Damon said I should consider, especially after everything his investigators turned up about her, but I just wanted her out of my life.
Besides, a lot of what he found out was no more than hearsay, and as much as she deserves prison it wouldn’t have been for the worst of her crimes. There was a reason she wanted me out of the way in Europe, but it’s difficult to prove a conspiracy to murder without a dead body, and that’s something I’m glad we never had. See, Tibet was the end game for her. She was going to marry my father, then return without him after some accident. With me away in Europe, and every indication that I was nothing more than a hysterical, half-crazy lunatic, it would have been easy for her to get her hands on everything. No doubt she had some master plan for taking over the conservatorship on my trust fund too.