Black Diamond (Obsidian Book 2)

by Victoria Quinn

  Probably forever. “I don’t know…”

  “What is it about this chick? You’ve been exactly the same guy forever. But the second she came into your life, you changed. And even though she’s gone, it doesn’t seem like you’ll go back to who you were. She changed you permanently.”

  She did. Now I had a permanent scar on my skin. My lips would always contain her kiss. My hands would always carry her smell. The backs of my eyes were carved with the image of her face. She stole so much from me, and she didn’t even know it. “Yeah, I think she did.”

  “And you really can’t make it work with her?” he asked incredulously. “If she’s the one…she’s the one.”

  I cared about Rome a great deal, but I wouldn’t go that far. A connection existed between us, and she had my undying commitment. I felt differently toward her than I did with other women. She was special, there was no doubt about it. But I couldn’t give her marriage and kids. I couldn’t give her a house and a picket fence—not when I wanted whips and chains. “She’s not the one. There is no the one.”

  Jackson finally gave up. “If it’s really over, you need to move on.”

  “I know.”

  “The sooner, the better. You know I hate your guts, but I also hate seeing you like this.” He left the chair then rapped his knuckles against my desk, like that was some form of affection. Then he walked out and left me alone with my thoughts.

  My thoughts about Rome.

  I went to see my mom that Saturday.

  Everything was exactly the same. The Harry Potter book was tucked under my arm, it was a sunny day, so she would be sitting on the balcony, and I wore the scarf she knitted for me—the one she wouldn’t remember giving me.

  But this time, Rome wasn’t with me.

  I didn’t feel nearly as much pain for my mother when Rome was there to share the burden. She made things much easier, even pleasant. I still didn’t know what possessed me to bring Rome in the first place. It was an impulse decision, an action without motivation.

  As always, the nurse introduced me to my mother. “Calloway is here to see you. He’s from Humanitarians United, and he’s going to read to you.” She patted my mother on the back then gave us some privacy.

  I sat down in the chair, feeling strange wearing a scarf. The pressure around my neck was unusual, but I wore it anyway because it was so special to me. She wouldn’t remember the hours it took to make it. She wouldn’t remember giving it to me. But that didn’t matter.

  She stared at me in silence, her eyes taking in my features like she’d never seen me before.

  As always, it was a stab to the heart. “I brought the first Harry Potter book. I’ve never read it, so I thought we could enjoy it together.”

  Her eyes moved to my scarf. “That’s lovely…” She lifted her hand and pointed several of her fingers in my direction. “The colors look nice on you. The blue brings out your eyes.”

  I held her gaze and nodded. “Thank you. Someone special made it for me.” I opened the book to the first page. Just when I began to read, she interrupted me.

  “I feel like I know you from somewhere…”

  My eyes remained glued to the book, but I felt my hands shake. She’d never said anything like that, not once in all these years. Her mind had slipped away a long time ago, and she’d never given us any hope for improvement.

  I met her gaze once again, seeing the blue eyes that were identical to my own.

  She continued to study me, looking at me like a painting on the wall of an art gallery. She took in my features, committing them to a memory that she wouldn’t maintain. If she remembered that I was her oldest son, it would be a miracle.

  I shouldn’t get my hopes up.

  “You were here before…with a woman.”

  I released the book, and it slid down my knees and hit the floor. I didn’t bother picking it up because I was in shock. Every night when my mother went to sleep, all the events, conversations, and activities of that day were wiped clean. She woke up the following morning without a single recollection. The nurses had to explain that she lived in a nursing home now because it was the best place for her. “Yes…”

  “Where is she?”

  Rome wasn’t by my side because she wasn’t in my life anymore. But I didn’t think I had the strength to say that out loud. “She couldn’t make it today…”

  “Oh…” My mom didn’t hide her disappointment. “Lovely girl. I enjoyed the sound of her voice.”

  She remembered Rome more than she remembered me. It made me both happy and fiercely depressed.

  “Something about her,” she whispered. “I enjoyed her company.”

  “Do you enjoy mine?” I don’t know what possessed me to say that. It just came out, my frustration obvious. I lived a life of cold cruelty, having no emotions. I told myself I didn’t need anyone because I didn’t. But I came here every Saturday because I was missing something. I was a grown man who’d been taking care of himself for decades. But I would always have a spot in my heart for my mother, the woman who nurtured me into adulthood. The only good childhood memories I had came from her.

  She watched me with pursed lips and a confused gaze. “Of course. Is this woman your wife?”

  “No.” Even when my mom didn’t recognize me, she still pushed me to get married.

  “Are you hoping to make her your wife?”

  “No.”

  Her lips fell into a frown. “That’s a shame. The woman is perfect.”

  “You don’t know her.” My mom didn’t even know what she’d had for dinner last night.

  “But I can tell. And I could have sworn she meant something to you. I remember the way you looked at her…”

  I grabbed the book off the floor and placed it on the chair beside me. Why did Rome, a complete stranger, elicit so much emotion from my mother that she could actually remember her? But my mom didn’t recognize her own son? I had to admit, I was a little jealous. “She does mean a lot to me. But we want different things.”

  “What kind of different things?”

  “She wants marriage and kids. And I want to be alone forever.” It was a simple reasoning. I didn’t need to explain to my mother that I was a creature of the underworld, just like my father, the man she despised.

  “Who wants to be alone forever?” She cocked her head as she stared me down, her authoritative tone emerging like it had never left. I remembered the way she straightened me out when she caught me feeling up a girl when I was thirteen. Even though I was a teenager, she whipped my ass with a belt. “I live in a nursing home with no friends or family. Being alone is overrated.”

  “You aren’t alone,” I whispered. “I’m here.”

  “Yes, but it’s not the same. Do you want to end up like this?”

  The idea of losing my memory, of forgetting about all the people I cared about and who cared about me, was devastating. To live out the rest of my life without someone to remind me of the beautiful life I had once before seemed harsh. That was a whole new kind of alone, to be trapped in your own mind with no way out.

  “Calloway.” She said my name the same way she had a million times in my childhood. “All handsome young men want to sow their seeds forever. I was young once. I understand. But there will only be one amazing woman to walk into your life. There’s never two—only one. So, you can give up your ways and choose a life of forever happiness. Or you can keep sowing your seeds, watch her end up with someone else, and at the end of your lonely life, you can find yourself like me—sitting on a balcony all alone.”

  She was giving me a lecture—just like she used to. I couldn’t help but smile at the irony. I hadn’t had an experience like this with my mother in decades. It was refreshing to experience a normal familial relationship again.

  “That’s my best advice, Calloway. I hope you take it seriously.”

  I nodded. “I will, Theresa.”

  She eyed the book beside me. “If you’re willing to read, I’m willing to listen.”r />
  “Of course.” I opened the book again, watching her lean her head back and look across the lawn and the gardens at the edge of the property. The sun fell on her face, highlighting her elegant features. She still wore the red lipstick that sometimes smeared her front teeth. The gold earrings in her lobes were a pair her mother gave her for her sixteenth birthday. Her wedding ring was missing from her left hand, either lost or tossed. My eyes moved to the first sentence, and I began to read.

  15

  Rome

  I grabbed the mail from the lobby then headed to my floor. It was mostly bills, and a big fat one for my student loans. But I didn’t feel a twinge of sadness when I looked at the amount I still owed, along with my ridiculous interest that just seemed to only get bigger. My depression over Calloway was constantly at the forefront.

  I was pissed at him, but damn, I really missed him.

  He’d walked away from me for the second time, unwilling to give me what I wanted. I sure as hell wasn’t going to cave, so we were going to be at this stalemate forever. Soon, he would find the kind of woman he wanted and would forget about me.

  I was sure he had women lined up already. Even if they weren’t completely involved in the lifestyle, they would put up with it for a chance to be with Calloway. He was all man, powerful and masculine, with a strong body that made him look like a Navy SEAL. He had the most gorgeous eyes and the sexiest kiss. Sometimes, when I thought about how amazing he was, I didn’t care about all the horrible things he wanted to do to me. I wanted him that much.

  But then reality kicked in.

  I put my key in the door but realized it was already unlocked. The doorknob shifted loosely, like something inside the mechanism was busted. I pushed open the door and assumed Christopher was already home even though he usually hit the gym after work.

  I walked inside and set my mail on the table along with my purse.

  “Just as beautiful as the last time I saw you.”

  The words moved along my spine, making me tense with impending doom. Adrenaline spiked, and my heart kicked into overdrive once I recognized the threat. I knew that voice anywhere—because I heard it in my nightmares almost every night.

  I looked into the living room and saw Hank sitting on the couch, his fingers interlocked behind his head. He wore a three-piece suit, handsome and formidable. He reeked of unstoppable power.

  I was scared.

  I wasn’t going to lie to myself and say I wasn’t. I was alone in an apartment with this man, and his intentions were quite clear. My hands shook slightly, but I forced them to remain still. In a moment like this, it was essential to appear calm and confident, to make him think I was a stronger opponent than I truly was.

  The island separated me from the rest of the kitchen. I discreetly glanced at the knives in the knife block on the counter, but I realized they were all missing.

  He’d swept the apartment clean.

  Fuck.

  “And you’re just as disgusting as the last time I saw you.” I placed my hand on my hip and turned to face him, diffusing the obvious hostility as much as possible. He’d planned this meticulously, making sure I had no weapon to fight him off. I doubted he wanted to kill me—but I knew he wanted to do something far worse.

  He grinned like he enjoyed the banter. “So fiery but so innocent. I love it.”

  I wasn’t innocent anymore. Calloway had stripped me of my purity.

  The thought of Calloway made me wince in pain. If he were here, this wouldn’t be happening. Calloway would protect me from Hank with just a single look. I didn’t need a man to fight my battles, but I was scared and vulnerable. So having him around would have been extremely helpful.

  I couldn’t let Hank succeed because I didn’t deserve this. But also because I didn’t want to break Calloway’s heart. If he knew what Hank was about to do to me, he would throw himself off the Empire State Building.

  I had to make sure I didn’t lose—for both of us.

  “Is there something I can help you with, Hank? Perhaps setting up your Tinder account so you can find a date?”

  He chuckled then rose to his feet, towering above me with over six feet of strength. “Why find another woman when I have you?”

  The moment he stood up, my body tensed again. The fight-or-flight instinct was kicking in. As he moved closer to me, I knew I needed an escape route. He was too strong for me to fight off alone. The best thing would be to sprint into the hallway and scream for help. Someone was bound to hear me.

  He slowly came closer to me, his eyes darkening as he looked me up and down in my tight dress. “You’re looking damn fine today.”

  I wanted to spit in disgust. I couldn’t believe I’d ever kissed this man, that I ever got on my knees for him. He pretended to be an angel that wanted to help me, but he turned into the devil instead. Men who preyed on vulnerable people were scum to me—worse than scum.

  I had to do something. And I had to do it now. “You know, I find it—” I sprinted to the door without looking back, hoping he was absorbed in my words to give me a one-second head start.

  “You think you’re getting away?” His loud voice followed me out the door.

  I kicked my shoes off and sprinted as hard as I could, but with lightning speed, he caught up to me.

  He grabbed me by the back of the neck and slammed me into the wall, knocking my head against the solid material. “You’ll never get away from me, Rome. When will you understand that?” He covered my mouth with his hand so I couldn’t scream.

  I saw stars, and the world spun. His arm hooked around my waist, and he used his strength to press me into the wall.

  “I’ve earned the right to fuck you,” he hissed into my ear. “You teased me for so long, after everything I did for you. It’s gonna happen, bitch. Might as well accept that.” He yanked me down the hall and left my heels behind.

  I couldn’t let this happen.

  Once he got me back into the apartment, the game was over.

  I ignored the blinding pain from my skull and mustered up energy from every inch of my body. I threw my head back hard, striking him right in the nose. It probably hurt me more than it hurt him. But pain was better than being pinned onto my bed while he fucked me like he owned me.

  I grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his neck. I kicked his knee, forcing him to fall to the ground. I grabbed his head and slammed my knee into his face, this time breaking his nose and making blood stream everywhere. “I’ve earned the right to kick your ass, bitch-face.” I shoved him into the wall just the way he’d shoved me, making sure his skull collided with the molding along the side.

  He fell to the ground but didn’t lose consciousness. He rolled out of the way, getting blood everywhere. It soaked into the carpets and streaked along the white walls. He managed to grab my foot then twisted it painfully, forcing me to fall to my knee with a painful thud.

  Instinctively, I threw my elbow down onto his wrist, making him cry out in pain. He immediately released my foot and pulled his hand into his chest, cradling it like it might be broken.

  The elevator at the very end of the hallway beeped as it approached the floor. The doors were about to open, and my neighbors were going to save me. They would take one look at Hank, me, and the blood then call the cops.

  Hank gave me a terrifying look. “This isn’t over, baby.” He got to his feet and ran to the stairwell at the opposite end of the hall just as the doors opened.

  I would have chased him, but I couldn’t move. I was exhausted from the battle and in immense pain. My foot hurt, but I was certain it wasn’t broken. My head throbbed with the worst migraine of my life.

  “Rome!” Christopher sprinted down the hallway until he came to my side on the floor. He spotted the blood and the bruises on my face, and without asking any questions, he figured out exactly what had happened. “Let’s get you to the hospital. I’ll call the police on the way. Can you walk?”

  “Yes…” I got to my feet and felt dizzy. But I refuse
d to show weakness even though I wasn’t sure why. I needed to walk away from the battle as the victor, not the defeated.

  Christopher scooped me into his arms and carried me back to the elevator, leaving my shoes in the hallway. Somehow, he managed to pull out his phone and press it between his neck and shoulder. The elevator carried us to the lobby as he made the call. The operator’s voice came on the line. “9-1-1. What’s your emergency?”

  “I’m calling to report an assault.”

  After a day at the hospital, I learned I had a concussion, bruised ribs, and a lightly sprained foot.

  But other than that, I was in good shape.

  It could have been worse, so I counted it as a blessing.

  Christopher got the police involved even though I knew it wouldn’t go anywhere. They investigated the apartment and the scene in the hallway, but once Christopher accused Hank of being the culprit, they created other suspects, criminals and felons that lived within a two-mile radius. Apparently, Hank had a solid alibi—he was taking counsel with a client. His client, two cops, and even a judge insisted he was with them at the time of the crime.

  So he was immediately ruled out.

  Christopher was pissed, but I wasn’t surprised. How do you take down the face of New York City? How do you get him to pay for his crimes when everyone covers for him all the time? He had too much leverage and too much power over far too many people.

  Christopher called in sick for me, saying I had a nasty case of the flu. I was grateful he didn’t give them the truth, because if Calloway knew, it would be bad news.

  I was in the hospital for three days before they released me. I was good as new, with the exception of my foot. Sometimes it hurt to walk on it, but only slightly. I knew it would get better as time went by. It was just a matter of being patient.

  Christopher and I hadn’t talked much over the past few days. He was too angry to say a single word. I could tell he was about to explode at any moment, and then his words would rain down on me like fire.