A puzzled look flashed across his face, then he bent to kiss her lips.
Numb again. She couldn't feel him. Frustrated, she squeezed her eyes shut. "It's no use."
He pulled away to look at her, but remained close to her face. "What's no use?" He stroked her silky hair.
"I want to feel again, but I can't. I'm numb."
Damián took his thumb and middle finger and thumped her arm. "Ouch! Why did you—" Her eyes opened wide. "I felt that!"
He grinned. "Thought you might."
"But why didn't I feel your kiss just now?"
The tip of his finger traced the area around her mouth, not touching her lips, and she shivered as a tingle of awareness coursed through her.
"I felt that, too."
"Of course, you did. Your lips are numb because they're chapped. You got dehydrated in the desert. They're loading you up with fluids, though." She looked up and saw the IV bag.
Savi felt giddy. She hadn't shut down again. A mixture of dehydration and pain medication had probably left her feeling numb.
She wanted to touch him, too, if for no other reason than to feel closer to him. Memories of how he'd made love to her all those years ago left her craving his touch.
"What's going on in that pretty little head, chica?"
She smiled. "Take me back to the beach cave."
A pained looked crossed his face, and he pulled away. "You just concentrate on getting well so we can get you out of here."
What had come over her? She hadn't thought before she spoke; her defenses were gone. He couldn't possibly want that. She could never be Savannah for him again.
But Savannah was a part of her and always would be.
"My father? Lyle? They can't…"
He shook his head. "They won't be coming anywhere near you again, or Marisol either. When they get discharged from the hospitals they're in, they're going straight to jail on murder, kidnapping, assault, and a bunch of other charges."
Savi wondered what had happened to land them in the hospital, then decided she didn't really care. They deserved whatever they'd gotten. As long as they were under guard and couldn't get to Mari or her, she could pretend they didn't exist anymore.
Their depravity hadn't touched her daughter. That's all that counted.
"Father didn't want Mari because she has your brown eyes…and Maman's. Oh, God!"
Damián set the cup on the tray table and framed her face, a worried frown on his face. "What is it? Are you in pain?"
She shook her head, but truly she was. The worst pain. She couldn't breathe.
"Where are you, Savita?"
"He killed Maman!" Her voice sounded high-pitched in her ears.
"Where are you, Savannah?"
"Hiding. I don't want him to find me. He'll hurt me, too."
"Where are you, Savi?"
She blinked, focusing on Damián's face. She took a deep breath. "I'm with you, Sir. Oh, God. He killed her. I always thought she'd left me because she wanted a new life and a new family with that man, but she didn't. I watched Father…" she gasped for air, "…strangle her."
"I'm so sorry, bebé. You shouldn't have had to witness that. I don't know how you've survived all that bastard put you through. So strong."
She didn't feel strong at all. "I tried to make him stop, but I couldn't help her." A sob tore from her throat.
He brushed a thumb over her cheek. "You were just a baby. How could you fight off a grown man?"
True. She'd only remembered the scene recently, from the eyes of a grownup. Savannah had only been eight when her mother was murdered. She couldn't have stopped him any more than Mari could have. Savannah shouldn't feel guilty about that.
She needed to let that go. It wasn't her fault.
"I need to find Maman's body. She needs a proper burial."
"Any idea what he might have done with her body?"
"I don't know how long he was gone. I just remember bits and pieces of my childhood, especially that night. When he came into Savannah's bedroom that night…my room."
Savannah and Savi no longer felt like two separate people. A shudder passed through her as she remembered what her father had done to her for the first of many times that night. Everything was foggy, even though the memories were coming back in pieces.
"Father made me take big, nasty-tasting pills. They made me so sleepy all the time."
Savannah. Me.
"I tried to tell the maid what had happened to Maman, but the woman told me it wasn't right to tell horrible lies about my father." The woman told Savannah her Maman was a whore who had run off with another man. Left her.
The maid had helped instill those thoughts in her head that her mother had left her.
Savannah squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn't think about Maman's murder anymore. Father couldn't hurt either of them ever again.
She drew a ragged breath. "His shoes were muddy. She's probably buried right on the estate somewhere."
Damián nodded. "Makes sense. I'll hire someone with ground-penetrating-radar equipment. We'll find her."
Accepting the fact that Maman was gone forever was the hardest thing she'd ever done. Savi had held onto the fantasy of one day finding her, letting her meet her granddaughter, finding out why she'd abandoned Savannah.
But Maman hadn't done that at all. She'd been murdered. Right before Savannah's eyes.
Sadness and exhaustion lay heavily on her chest, and her eyelids drooped.
Escape. Sleep.
"Oh, Savannah." The anguish in Damián's voice brought her back. "I promised you I'd never let him touch either of you. I let you down. It took me so long to find you. I'm sorry that you had to suffer at his hands again."
She opened her groggy eyes and raised a hand to his cheek. "You were there with me, Damián. You helped me escape the pain this time."
He looked puzzled, but Savi could stay awake no longer. With Damián by her side, it was finally okay to close her eyes.
Safe.
* * *
Seeing Savannah's battered, bloodied body in that cabin had made him question whether he'd ever be able to protect her from the shitheads of the world. If he hadn't found her when he had, how much more would she have suffered at her father's hands?
Dad had talked with Victor to find out what the fuck had gone wrong. Apparently, Patti had called him in a state of panic after someone had called and left a threatening message on their answering machine. Victor had called Dad to relieve him, but had thought everything would be okay for the few minutes the apartment would be without surveillance. More than likely, Cabron had been behind the phone call. They must have been watching the apartment, too.
Dad said Victor was beating himself up over being so careless, but that cabron, Lyle, apparently had spooked Patti, knowing Victor would run. How long had he been watching them to have that kind of intel?
Damián and Dad had made sure they'd exacted justice for Savannah. After the piece-of-shit old man had screamed out he wasn't the one who performed the actual branding, well, they'd finished that part of the mission, they went back to Rancho to take care of Cabron in the same manner. Both had paid fairly for what they'd done to Savannah. Justice—Marine style. Probably a good thing glad Dad had been there with him. He'd kept Damián from killing both the bastards.
Among those who participated in the raids—Dad, Grant, Marc, and him—only Damián could be identified visibly. They'd borrowed some equipment and supplies from friends at Pendleton, but hadn't told any of them what they were going to do with it. If they'd involved any active-duty Marines and those guys had gotten caught, it would have ruined their military careers—and possibly gotten them court-martialed.
But Damián made sure the bastards who had abused Savannah knew he was the one doling out justice to them. He wanted them to wake up screaming at night seeing his face.
Neither man would press charges—not after Damián had made it clear he had friends in the California prison system who, once they were on the
inside of those prison walls, would do a lot worse than take a coat hanger and a car battery to them. Gentry and Lyle would be serving time—probably for the rest of their lives—after the police got the full story from Savannah. Damián knew firsthand being locked up was a helluva lot worse punishment than having a bullet between the eyes.
He watched Savannah sleeping peacefully for the first time since she'd awakened in the wee hours of the morning. She'd been in here almost two full days now and the nurses said she was doing remarkably well, considering all she'd been through.
Knowing she was on the mend gave him a sense of relief, but his anxiety returned when he remembered she wanted to go back to Thousand Steps Beach. He couldn't carry her down those fucking steps now, not without them both winding up in a heap at the bottom of the stairway. How fucking romantic would that be?
Maybe there was another beach cave somewhere that was more accessible—but she'd called Thousand Steps at Laguna "our special place." Damn.
Savannah groaned in her sleep, grimacing—whether from physical or emotional pain, he wasn't sure. Damián reached out to stroke her upper arm, tracing the scars where a younger Savannah had tried to make one kind of pain go away by inflicting another, one she could control herself.
He wondered what she'd meant about his being with her to help her get through the pain her father had inflicted this time. When he'd seen how deep the cuts were to her backside, he'd been hard-pressed not to castrate the old man after he'd wrapped the coat hanger around the bastard's sac and equipment. Lyle had gotten the same treatment, for delivering Savannah to that bastard. At least now both shitheads knew what it had felt like to be branded.
Justice for Savannah. Sitting in a cushy jail cell waiting for a trial wasn't going to deliver that kind of message to him, that's for damned sure.
Damián had left Cabron's kneecaps intact. All he'd wanted was eye-for-an-eye justice. Neither man would get an erection without pain now. Both would wear Damián's brand—and, would probably become bitches to their fellow inmates once the guys on the inside learned these two were abusers—one a pedophile who raped his own daughter. With so many inmates having been victims of sexual abuse as kids, some of them being the very kids Damián had served with in juvie who'd never managed to stay out of the system, Damián knew the likes of Gentry and Cabron wouldn't have an easy time of it in prison.
Damián smiled.
Righteous retribution.
Of course, now Damián had two more sins to seek absolution for. He hoped Mamá and Papá hadn't been watching, but he'd learned long ago it was better to ask for forgiveness than to let bastards like those walk away unpunished. He'd have a talk with Fr. Martine about what he might do for penance, but he'd never feel remorse or regret for the justice he'd exacted from either man. He just wished he could have done the job without involving Dad. He hoped the man wouldn't have any lingering nightmares or guilt about what they'd done.
Savannah shuddered in her sleep, and he reached down to pull a sheet over her arms.
Footsteps approaching the doorway sent him on alert. He turned to see it was Dad and relaxed. Not wanting to disturb her rest, he motioned that he'd be right there and brushed his lips lightly against the top of her head. "Sleep well, mi sueño."
She smiled in her sleep, and he turned, crossing the darkened room and headed toward the hallway.
Dad kept his voice low and shoved a sack from a burger place at him. "How's she doing?"
"Better. She thought I'd been killed. I had no idea, or I'd have gotten here sooner."
"Not sure we could have taken care of those shitheads any faster." Dad glanced into the room where Savannah slept. "After what she's been through, it's amazing she even knows who she is anymore."
Damián nodded.
Adam gave him a sharp look. "How about you?"
Damián glanced away. "The ER docs checked out the leg. Marc did a good job, they said."
"I'm not talking about your leg, but I'm glad it's all right. I'm talking about how the mission ended. What we did after the raid."
"I'm fine. It needed doing."
Adam placed a firm hand on Damián's shoulder and squeezed it. "I'm just glad you didn't have to go it alone. But what we did was fucking justified, after all they've put her through." Dad glanced at the door to Savannah's room. "Christ, I had no idea…she's been through fucking hell. She's one of the strongest people I've ever met. Would have made one helluva Marine. You two have a lot in common."
"I haven't been through nearly as much as she has."
"Bullshit, but this isn't a pissing match. You've just been through a different kind of pain, that's all."
Damián looked down at the floor.
Dad squeezed Damián's shoulder again, demanding that he look at him once more. "Karla and I are going to have to get back to Denver soon. You gonna be all right?"
"Yeah."
"Any idea what you're going to do when she gets released from here?
No fucking clue.
"Not really. A lot is still up in the air concerning us." No sense talking about making Savannah his. He hadn't broken down that wall yet; hadn't gotten her to surrender her heart to him.
"You two are perfect for each other. I started to see it at your birthday party, but when I talked with her in the club that night you had to Top Patti, I knew it. Trust your instincts." He patted Damián on the back. "You'll do the right thing. You always do. Now, I'm heading back over to Rosa's. Marisol and Karla have challenged José and me to a game of Risk. What do you think our chances are?"
Damián chuckled. "Be afraid, man. Be very afraid." He gave Dad a bear hug before watching him walk down the hallway toward the elevator.
He sat on a bench in the hallway and opened the bag to find a burger, fries, and a cherry pie. As he ate, he thought about what Dad had said. Dad would want him to marry her. Hell, Damián wanted that, too, more than anything in the world. He wanted the three of them to be a real family, with a commitment in the eyes of God and the law. No, that wouldn't make a difference as far as his love for her and the commitment he'd already made—albeit one-sided—to protect and cherish her and Marisol forever. The thought of living without his girls in his life ripped a gash in his gut.
But he didn't know if Savannah could make that kind of commitment yet. Her father had gouged opened a lot of old scars. While she seemed to have weathered the ordeal better than he'd expected, pulling from her deep well of strength, she'd still been pretty doped up so far. Then there was the business of getting her to fully reclaim Savannah. He'd talked with her therapist earlier and, without divulging anything confidential, she'd given him general advice on the warning signs to look for that he might be in deeper than he could handle without professional assistance.
Damián hoped she'd let him help her continue to heal. They'd been making a lot of progress, before all this shit happened.
He stood up to go back inside to Savannah and noticed her friend, Anita, coming down the hall holding what looked like a photo album.
"How's our patient?"
"Sleeping. Probably the best thing for her now. "
Anita nodded and looked down at the album, then extended it to him. "Damián, I wanted you to have this. Father Martine brought it to me. He's down in the chapel and will look in on her in a while before heading back to Solana Beach."
Damián accepted the thick album, unsure if she wanted him to open it here or what he should say.
"There are photos there to help you fill in some of the gaps in Savi and Marisol's lives." She grinned sheepishly. "I'm a bit of a shutterbug."
"Thanks, ma'am. I'll take a look when I go back inside, while Savannah's sleeping." He knew instinctively that he needed to be alone when he looked at these photos.
She smiled. "I understand. Listen, why don't you go get something to eat? Food's not too bad in the cafeteria. I'll sit with her until you get back."
"No, ma'am, that's okay. My dad just brought me some. I just want to get back to her."
Anita's smile grew wider. "You know, she told me about how you rescued her at that hotel and watched over her while she slept, not taking advantage of her the way so many men would have. I tried to locate you after Marisol was born, but couldn't get past the dead end at your old apartment address."
"I appreciate your trying, but I don't know if I would have been any good to either of them back then. I had some sh…stuff to get through myself, ma'am." Damián looked away and cleared his throat before returning his gaze to the woman who had been more of a parent to Savannah as anyone. "I don't know of anyone whose blessing I would like more than yours, ma'am. You've been like a mother to her. Anyway, when the time is right, I'd very much like to ask her to marry me."
Tears filled the woman's eyes, but she smiled. "I think Savi would be the luckiest woman in the world to have a fine young man like you, someone with so much integrity and honor."
Damián swallowed against the lump in his throat. If only she knew the real Damián, but what she didn't know about him was best kept that way. "Ma'am, don't say anything to her yet. I want to wait until the time is right, let her heal up some more."
"My lips are sealed."
They said their goodbyes and, as she walked away, Damián looked down at the photo album in his hands. His heart pounded like a slapper on a steel fender as he turned and walked back into Savannah's room. She still slept, her breathing shallow and regular.
Taking a spot on the loveseat, he flipped on a reading light, looked at Savi to make sure he hadn't disturbed her, and then opened the album. The first page had a few photos of a very pregnant Savannah. Seeing his tiny little butterfly with his baby filling her belly raised bumps on his arms. Unbelievable.
In most of the pictures, she wore a smile on her face that didn't reach her sad, blue eyes. Her face was fuller than it was now. Despite what she'd been through, there was still an innocence and a vulnerability about her that made him want to step into the picture and wrap his arms around her.
Nobody's Perfect Page 41