by Wendi Felter
Chapter Twenty-Three
“You know this is a bad idea,” Damon said, as he turned onto a highway. Before that, he hadn’t said anything.
Heaven could feel the heat of his body and longed to touch him. She wondered if she’d ever get to touch him again. No, she couldn’t be pessimistic. She had to make the most of this drive. “I don’t think it’s a bad idea,” she said.
“You just can’t leave me alone. I don’t think for a moment this was all Aiden’s idea.”
“You didn’t have to do what he wanted,” she said, enjoying baiting him.
“Oh, sure. We just start getting along, and I’m going to lose him again?”
“Thanks to me, remember?” She couldn’t help herself.
“You’re lucky you’re a woman. I’d hit you if you were a man.” He sped up.
She laughed. “I thought you didn’t like violence, Damon.”
“I only use it when necessary. And this would be necessary for my mental health. Doesn’t matter. You’re a woman and a pregnant one.”
“A strong one, too. Even you said so.”
He gave her an unfriendly glance, and then lapsed into silence. A few seconds later, he turned on the radio.
Heaven tried looking out her window at the passing scenery, since Damon refused to look at her as he drove. She barely paid attention to anything rushing past. Sitting next to Damon made it impossible to concentrate. His presence crowded her. She inhaled his essence, again perturbed by a faint smell of unpleasant flowers.
Breaking a fifteen-minute silence she said, speaking to the window, “The woman you’ve been seeing has terrible taste in perfume. Smells like alcohol.”
“What?”
She crossed her arms and looked over at his profile. Some of his hair spilled across his forehead and rested just above his longish, straight nose. “The woman in your life, Damon. The reason you’re never home at night anymore. The perfume clings to you even after you’ve showered, and I wouldn’t let my pet wear it.”
Damon frowned. “That’s no girlfriend; just somebody from one of the shelters. Whenever I play with her k-kid, she hangs all over me, and she wears this God-awful perfume. C-can you really smell it?” He lifted his forearm and sniffed, wrinkling his nose.
Heaven laughed, delighted to find that the perfume didn’t belong to a lover. “I can smell it every day.”
Damon shook his head. “I think she likes me. Or maybe she just likes how attached I am t-to her kid. I’ll miss him after she leaves. The k-kid, not her.”
“I thought you couldn’t be around kids.”
His lips clamped together and whitened, then he said, “I can’t hurt him if I d-don’t live with him. I’m afraid that if I lived with a child – what if I lost it even one time, like my father used to do? It’s d-different Heaven.”
God, he was talking to her!
“Do you like kids, Damon?”
“Of course. I wish I c-could have one, but I can’t.”
“Did your father like kids?”
Damon shot her a glance, the very first glance since they’d gotten in the car together.
She wanted to melt.
“My father hated kids. Never wanted any. You think he scarred my body because he liked kids?” He addressed the traffic again. “Don’t t-talk, Heaven.”
Heaven had no intention of remaining silent and certainly did not intend to take instructions. “I suppose your father hated kids before he had any then?”
Damon shrugged. “He said he never wanted any. My mother t-told me he beat her each t-time she got pregnant. Why are we having this conversation? Don’t t-talk to me!”
“You don’t have the same attitude about children as he did, Damon. You like them. I can’t believe you’d ever strike one in anger.”
Damon didn’t respond.
Heaven felt another cramp and grimaced, but he didn’t see her. Her babies were getting more and more active and she felt uncomfortable a lot of the time.
The silent minutes dragged on. Heaven had no time to waste. “What do you do when you’re out at night?” She had pushed him like this when she’d first come. Eventually he always answered her. She looked at him, enjoying the sight of his perfect profile, feeling sparks. If only she’d get the chance to make love to him after the babies were born. Their estrangement had flamed her desire for him. She knew she could make love to him…but only him…
“Where do you think I go at night?” was the delayed response. He laughed. “Bars. Drinking.”
“No, you don’t.”
He glanced over at her with wide eyes. “Why do you say that?”
“I still can feel you, Damon. I’m very aware of you whenever you’re around. I notice anything different about you, just as I noticed the perfume. You think I wouldn’t notice alcohol?”
He drew in a long breath. “I’m very aware of you, too, Heaven, but I fight it. I don’t have any choice.”
Although finality rang in his voice, his words lightened her and gave her hope. So he still felt that connection! “I have a sketchbook full of new drawings of you.”
“Do you?”
She watched his profile noticed his attempt to speak.
“Maybe you’d like to see my drawings one day.”
“No. I don’t think that’s a good idea. Remember, I’m taking you for a ride because Aiden used emotional blackmail, but that’s all this is g-going to be.”
“Oh, you’re safe from me,” she said, and she couldn’t have been more truthful. “As big and uncomfortable as I am right now, nothing could ever happen. Plus I’m sure I look gross.”
Damon sighed wearily. “You don’t look gross. You look pregnant.”
“Which means gross.”
He turned towards her briefly, his eyes kinder and softer than she’d seen them in weeks. “Don’t ever think that, Heaven. You always look beautiful t-to me.” Then he blushed and, as if realizing an error, he quickly turned back towards the road.
She held his words to her heart and felt even more hope. Deciding not to push it right now, she addressed another topic just to keep him talking. “We really are out in the middle of nowhere now. This is all land. Where are we?”
“Unincorporated McHenry County.”
“I haven’t seen any car besides ours for a long time.”
Damon nodded.
“Or a house.”
“I saw a farmhouse about a mile back.”
“To say the least, the homes are few and far between.”
“T-to say the least.”
“But it’s peaceful and secluded and you like that.”
Damon didn’t answer.
Heaven felt another twinge in her back, this time sharper. She gasped and bent over.
Damon glanced at her, alarmed. “What is it?”
The cramp had passed. “I’m not sure. Maybe I should call Dr. Miller. Can I use your cell phone?”
Damon reached into his pocket as he simultaneously swerved the car to the shoulder of the road. She heard him mumbling various creative curses to himself.
Heaven had Dr. Miller on the phone in three minutes, explaining that she’d been cramping today. “I feel bloated too,” she added. As Heaven hung up and handed Damon the phone, he stared at her, with concerned eyes.
“I have to go in.” The look of panic on Damon’s face was priceless, and she laughed.
He didn’t. Instead, he pulled a U-turn and started speeding down the highway, his face filled with tension.
“Please drive carefully, Damon,” she pleaded.
He eased off the accelerator, but she could see that his knuckles, grasping the steering wheel, were white.
“I should never have taken you,” he said. “You should never have let me take you!”
Heaven stopped smiling. He sounded hostile again and, if she were honest with herself, he was right. Dr. Miller had warned her to rest, drink a lot of fluids, and not travel far because of the possibility of early labor.
Heaven put her
hands on her stomach. Her babies seemed quiet, possibly sleeping.
She’d come with him both because she’d wanted time alone with Damon, and because it was not in her personality to worry about her health. She remembered, during college, she’d had a horrible cough for a month and only saw a doctor when she’d no longer been able to get out of bed. In the end, it had turned out to be pneumonia.
Her pregnancy, while not the norm, hadn’t alarmed her. She’d been taking care of herself and didn’t really expect the twins to come too early. Now she wondered about her common sense, which left her from time to time.
“I – I’m sorry that I came with,” she managed, her voice regretful. “It’s probably nothing, yet now you can’t finish your trip and you have to drive me to the doctor.” She sighed.
“I just d-don’t want to deliver babies,” Damon said, his words clipped and crisp.
“I’m not going to have the babies now,” she assured him, as another pain tweaked her lower back. “Dr. Miller is just overly cautious.”
“Lay down,” Damon suddenly commanded.
“What?”
“Lay down! I want you to rest.”
“I’m resting.”
“Lay down, damnit!”
“Um, Damon, I won’t fit. I’m pretty tall.”
Damon exhaled loudly, his exasperation evident. “Then – put your head in my lap,” he grumbled.
Heaven started. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m positive!” Grumbling, he added, “You’re lucky I t-took the car and not the truck. No gearshifts in the way.”
She lowered herself awkwardly to the seat and rested her head on his lap and, in spite of her discomfort, part of her felt wonderful.
Damon didn’t even glance down at her, but she loved the feel of his powerful thighs pillowing the back of her head. She wanted to wrap her arms around his muscular legs, but refrained. He smelled familiar, comforting, and very masculine…and flames fairly jumped from his skin to hers; warming her and making her feel safe. Nobody could make her feel as protected as Damon did.
“Are you all right?” His voice came out strangely soothing and silky.
I am now, she thought.
“I think so,” she said.
“Close your eyes and sleep. I’ll wake you when we get to the hospital.” Again she heard the velvet in his low croon.
She shut her eyes and eventually found herself in a state of trance; half asleep, half awake. “I’ve decided on names for the babies,” she thought she heard herself mumbling.
“That’s none of my business,” she heard him respond.
“I’d like to name the boy after you, if I can. You’ve been so good to me.”
She felt his diaphragm tighten. “No.”
“Yes.”
“I haven’t been good t-to you for a long t-time and my name is cursed.”
“It’s a beautiful name.”
“It’s my father’s name!”
“And yours, too.”
He didn’t answer for a long time.
“Damon?” she finally asked, in a dreamy voice.
“I – don’t want you t-to do that.”
“But I am.” She snuggled closer to his body. The back of her head actually bumped against his manhood, which, she could tell, had hardened.
Gently, he urged her head forward a bit.
“The boy will be Damon. Damon Andrew. Andrew was my father.”
“Name him Andrew.”
“No.”
“Right now I’m not going t-to argue. I need to get you t-to the hospital.”
“The girl will be Angela. That was my mother’s name.”
“Heaven, can you please stop talking? I have t-to concentrate!”
She did and found herself falling into a black abyss. The last thing she remembered was smiling.
Damon drove faster now that Heaven had fallen asleep. Panic overtook him. If Heaven only knew how much he worried about her and the babies…but she didn’t. He never let on how he watched after her.
He’d even pulled Francesca aside to urge her to call him if Heaven seemed ill in any manner, along with begging her, with equal vigor, not to let Heaven know of his concern.
Night after night, Damon went to the library, finding himself drawn to books about childbirth, twins, and parenting. He also found himself reading about children who’d been abused by their parents and had found some reasons to believe that maybe he wouldn’t abuse a child. Not enough reasons though.
His thoughts turned back to Heaven. She didn’t know how grueling it was to ignore her. He missed her company, her laugh, her intelligent conversation, her compassionate listening, her teasing, and her white-hot touch…God, how he missed her touch. He knew she felt unattractive, but, in his eyes, no woman compared. He hadn’t even bothered looking for another female to fill his time. He couldn’t stomach the thought of touching anybody except Heaven, and she was the one woman he couldn’t touch.
One thing that surprised him immensely was how he’d become so obsessed with Heaven’s twins; he almost considered them his own. Gavin, wherever he hid, didn’t care about them. Nobody would ever harm Heaven or the babies he’d learned to almost, for lack of a better word, love.
With Heaven asleep, he dared to reach down to stroke her golden hair. At the touch of her silky locks around his fingers, he gasped. Ah, how he’d missed the feel of her. Just having her head in his lap caused a stirring in his jeans, even as he panicked and worried for her and the twins.
The twins! She couldn’t be in labor…couldn’t be…but he had to get her to the hospital anyways. Sweet Jaysus, would the car move any faster? His speedometer read 70 mph. He pushed down on the accelerator, uncaring if he received a ticket. As Heaven groaned in her sleep, he grabbed her hand and squeezed it, as he’d done so often to calm her night terrors.
She quieted and he tried not to think too hard. He had the feeling that something bad could happen, but, if he dwelled on that, he’d be totally useless.
“Don’t worry, Heaven,” he heard himself saying in a soothing voice. “I promised t-to take care of you, and I will.”
It was after that sentence that his car started to sputter and spit…and then slow down, even as he stomped on the accelerator pedal. To his shock, the speed diminished so much that he knew it would stop even if he didn’t apply pressure to the brakes. Swearing, he found himself stalled on the highway, in the middle of nowhere, with a pregnant woman’s head in his lap.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Damon slammed the steering wheel, his head reeling. Quickly, he pulled out his cell phone and pressed the speed dial button to his Auto Club.
Nothing happened.
“No,” he muttered. Shutting the phone he looked at the battery signal. It needed charging. Now what? No other car had passed him in a while and only empty fields surrounded him. Swearing to himself, he pulled open the hood of his car. He knew he’d awaken Heaven when he had to move her from his lap to get out of the car. She looked so angelic; he hated to do it, but had no choice. Gently, he shook her shoulders.
Blinking, her eyes slid towards the window and she flinched. “Oh, no,” she muttered. “I remember now.” Her eyes, as clear as the sky, found his. Questions danced in them. “Why are we stopped?”
Damon strove to sound calm. “The car stalled. I’m going out t-to have a look under the hood.”
“What?” She pulled herself upright, a hand on his shoulder to assist. “Is this a joke?”
He shook his head. “Don’t worry, I’m good with cars.” He amazed himself at how convincing he sounded. Nothing could have been further from the truth.
“No, call for help,” she said.
He avoided her gaze. “Cell phone ran out of power.”
She let go of him and collapsed against the seat. “Unbelievable.”
With one elbow on the steering wheel, he grabbed her hand. “How are you doing?”
“I’m all right for now. Hurry and try to get the car started
again.”
Determination surged through his veins. “I’m going to check the car.” He slid out and looked under the hood. Crap, he might as well have been trying to read a Greek novel. As he stared, he heard a car coming. His adrenalin propelled him into the middle of the street. Waving his arms frantically he called out, “Please stop!”
The car blazed past him, its tires spitting muddy water on his face, tee shirt and jeans.
“Shit!” He wiped the mud off his nose, remembering it had rained the previous night. Swearing angrily, he turned and headed back to his car. He saw Heaven staring out the window at him, rolling her eyes.
He felt as if he’d somehow let her down and it seared him.
“The next person will stop,” he said, offering her a smile that didn’t feel genuine.
He trudged back to the front of his car, but couldn’t see anything wrong and slammed the hood shut with a loud thud. Grinding his teeth, he opened the door and climbed halfway inside.
Heaven fell back against the seat again, her eyes closed and her forehead beaded with sweat.
Damon felt so helpless. Sliding in beside her, he put an arm around her shoulder and she rested her head against his neck.
“I’m having more twinges in my back,” she murmured.
“Don’t worry,” he said, in a comforting voice that didn’t mirror his state of mind. “I’ll take care of it, Heaven. I promise.”
“Why should I worry?” She spoke against his neck, her words weak. “I’m pregnant, stuck on an empty road, having back pains.”
Damon fought back a mounting sense of urgency. “Back pains aren’t labor pains, are they?”
“They can be.”
That did it. “Heaven, let me run down the road and find the first house I come to and…”
“No! Oh, please don’t go!” She burst into sobs.
Startled, Damon froze and stared down at the face now buried into his shoulder. “I won’t go.” He angled himself towards her, dodging the steering wheel, hugging her to his body, fisting one hand into the soft waves of her hair. He could feel her chest heaving in and out as she pressed against his torso. “Don’t let anything happen to my babies, Damon. Please.”