My body is heavy, sluggish. My brain is fuzzy. What’s happening? I try to move but my body is unresponsive. I try to remember where I am and it all comes crashing back.
Faith.
Simon.
Leona.
Faith. Fuck is she okay? She might need help. Damon’s voice calls to me but I can’t find him. I try to push the fog away so I can see him but everything is misty.
Dark.
He needs to help Faith. I struggle to free myself from whatever is holding me down, compressing on my chest.
“F-Faith,” I gasp. “H-help her.”
Pain shoots through me and darkness pulls me back under. The heaviness weighs me down again, pulling me under a blanket of thick fog, choking me. It consumes me and pulls me away from the pain.
****
Beeps and whooshes sound in my head, each noise making an excruciating throbbing in my skull. I wince from the pain and try to move, but that sluggish feeling is still strong. People talk around me but their voices and words mash together.
Prodding between my legs brings the agony of labour to the forefront of my mind and I try to cry out but no sound emerges. I scream silently. More talking and a sharp prick to my arm is the last thing I feel before darkness swallows me again.
****
Movement jars my brain to lift from the fog a little, but it’s not enough. Sleepiness consumes me. I just want to sleep and the bed moving isn’t helping. I want to demand they stop moving me but my mouth is numb.
My body is numb.
My limbs dead.
Pain slashes through me, making me cry out. Unbearable aches hit me all at once. Not one part of my body isn’t in agony, ripping me apart.
My baby.
Please let her be okay. Please don’t take her from me.
I want to be sucked back into the darkness. I want to forget.
I give up my fight.
Blackness takes me away.
****
“When will she wake up? It’s been hours,” Damon grumbles. I want to laugh at him but my body has tingles, little pin pricks all over my skin, and I can’t feel it. I can feel the pins and needles but I can’t feel my body. It’s like tiny insects are crawling all over me. I feel like my body has lain still for days, wrapped in a block of concrete, and the pins and needles are from blood now flowing through me again.
“She’ll wake up when she’s good and ready Damon. Have a little patience,” Flora reprimands.
“I just want to see her eyes. I need to know she’s truly okay,” Damon mutters.
“We all want to see her Damon, but Mum’s right. Ella just needs to gain her strength. She’ll wake when she’s ready,” Spencer adds.
I want to open my eyes, I want to hold my husband’s hand and tell him everything is okay but my body won’t cooperate.
“I’m her fucking husband. You don’t know what I’m feeling, you don’t love her like I do,” Damon growls. His words split my heart in two. He sounds agonised.
Broken.
Lost.
Black mist begins taking over, pulling me under.
Dragging me away from my family.
****
“How is our daughter?” Damon inquires.
His voice cuts through the fog and everything begins to clear but his words don’t make sense. My body is aching but it’s a manageable ache. Light, too bright for my eyes, makes me want to bury my head under the blankets and hide away. I want Damon to shut the light off. I want to sleep a little longer.
My body is relaxed, floating.
“Baby Hunt is doing well. She’s strong and of a decent weight. She’s healthy Mr. Hunt. You have a fighter there,” someone replies. I can hear the smile in her voice but I don’t understand what they’re talking about.
Baby Hunt?
My baby?
Beeping pierces my ears, and my heart races to the same rhythm. I fight to move my body, to wake my brain up. Come on Ella. My body is desperate to wake up, but something is holding me back.
“Just like her mother,” Damon says, love ringing loudly in his voice.
It hits me. Everything comes back at lightning speed. Simon. The crash. Leona. Labour.
My baby.
My eyes flutter open.
Bright lights blind me for a second before my eyes adjust, and I look around the sterile hospital room. I have a drip and wires attached to me, my leg is throbbing and bandaged, and Damon is clutching my hand tightly, adding to my aching body. My mouth is dry, desperate for some water, and I can’t seem to find my voice.
Damon must sense my gaze because his clashes with mine within seconds. His chocolate eyes widen before a breath stealing smile breaks across his lips. My heart rate increases, and so does the beeping machine.
A sparkle of mischief lights up his gaze, but before I can understand what it means, a nurse brings my attention to her.
“Mrs. Hunt?” she asks in a professional voice. “I’m Vera, your nurse. How are you feeling?” I try to speak but a squeak is the only sound I can make. Clearing my throat, I try again.
“W-water,” I rasp. Vera gives me a small smile before patting my arm.
“I’m just going to do a few checks and I’ll fetch you a drink. I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake. Do you remember what happened?” she asks.
I nod my head but don’t speak. I don’t want to remember. I have too many other pressing matters to talk about rather than that crazy bitch. Vera begins checking machines and monitors before slipping out of the room.
“Jellybean?” I ask, looking at Damon, pleading for her to be okay.
“She’s okay beauty. She’s strong like her mummy,” Damon replies. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
His words send a bolt of jealousy through my veins, and bring tears to my eyes. I want to meet her, I want to hold her.
I want to be her mummy.
“Hey, it’s okay baby. You’re safe, Jellybean is safe,” Damon soothes. At his words, darkness tries to pull me back, but I fight. I don’t want to sleep anymore. My tears fall, cascading down my cheeks. Damon moves fast, sitting next to me, wiping my sadness away.
But it’s not sadness.
I’m happy.
We’re safe.
Vera comes back in with a beaker and jug of water, handing them over to Damon when he holds his hands out for them, and instructing me to take small sips only.
My husband fills the beaker before bringing it to my lips. The warmish water fills my parched mouth and instantly soothes me, making it easier to talk.
“What does she look like?” I question. Damon shakes his head at my question, making me frown.
“I haven’t seen her Ella. I wanted to wait to meet her with you.” His words should make me feel happy, but all they do it make my tears flow again. How can he know she’s okay if he hasn’t met her? She must be lonely.
I need to get to my baby.
I try to struggle and sit up but Damon is quick to hold me down and I don’t have enough energy to fight him. A sharp pain slices through my stomach, making me feel like I’m being sawn in half with a rusty saw.
“How could you?” I ask, accusation clear in my wobbly voice. “She’s all alone and you’re sitting here with me instead of with her. Go to her Damon. Be with our daughter,” I implore. He shakes his head again.
“No Ella. I want to meet her when you do.” I growl at him, angry that I can’t go be with her now. My reaction is wrong. I shouldn’t be angry, I should be thankful, but my fuzzy head is mixing my emotions up.
“Ella,” Vera says. “Your daughter is doing well. Her breathing is normal and she seems to be responding well. She’s fully developed and her lungs are strong. They’re keeping her in NICU to monitor her. Once the doctor has checked you over we’ll get you a chair and take you to see her. Okay?” I nod but don’t reply to her. I’m overwhelmed.
Damon, noticing my emotion, wraps his arms around me, pulling me against him. My whole body is aching but being in his arms
relieves me, reducing the most painful ache; my heart.
****
Once the doctor came in to check me over, and explain my injuries, he gave me the okay to go and meet Jellybean, but before we could, two police officers popped in to see me. Damon almost got himself arrested for his behaviour towards them.
He wasn’t happy with them coming for my statement so soon after everything happened, and I wasn’t ready to speak to them yet. I need to see with my own eyes that Jellybean is alive and well.
Damon refused their entry to my room.
The situation almost got out of control until Vera stepped in. She understood Damon’s reasoning and asked them to return tomorrow. In response, the officers forbid Damon from seeing me, something about tampering with statements, and now I find myself sitting alone with a friendly female officer, and a brooding male officer.
I’ve just finished telling them my account of events, what I know, and they’re ready to leave. I’ve been as cooperative as possible, recalling events several times over, and answered the same questions again and again. Officer Sheldon has been professional and compassionate. Officer Smith has remained the same, not expressing any emotion at all.
“We’ll keep you up to date Mrs. Hunt. Everything should be pretty open and close. Thank you for your time and I wish you a speedy recovery,” Officer Sheldon says. I give her a quick nod, not wanting to speak any more.
I want my husband and daughter.
Giving me a polite smile, she looks at her partner, and raises a brow. Officer Smith clears his throat and nods his head to the door. Sheldon quickly exits, leaving me with him.
“Mrs. Hunt, may I be frank?” he asks once we’re alone.
“Yes,” I reply questioningly. What on Earth could he have to say to me? He sighs and steps closer to the bed.
“I know this is out of place.” He pauses and clears his throat. “I pulled up your file Mrs. Hunt and realise who you are. I knew your father, he was a good man, and I’m sorry for all you’ve been through. I can’t even begin to imagine what you’ve been through, and I just want to assure you that your father would be happy with your choice of husband.” I look at him in surprise at his words.
“And what makes you say that?” I ask.
Officer Smith smiles, he fucking smiles, before chuckling.
“Overbearing, protective, and in love. I know love when I see it, and that man, your husband, he’s deeply madly in love with you. I know love. I’ve felt it and seen it. I loved your dad,” he states. I gasp.
What the fuck.
“Your dad loved me,” he continues. “Just not enough to tell you. Your dad was everything your husband is now, but only when it came to his daughters. His love for you was stratospheric, and that meant he kept things secret in order to protect you. One of your dad’s wishes was for you to meet Mr. Hunt,” he says, chuckling.
My jaw drops. Information overload. My dad was gay? He wanted me to meet Damon? Is this a fucking joke?
“I remember him speaking of his client. When I noticed your marital name I checked it out. You dad told me many times that Hunt was a good man. “Messed up but has the biggest heart he’s ever known. Hunt just doesn’t know it,” he’d say,” Smith says. I laugh at his imitation of my dad and tears fill my eyes.
Goddamn emotions.
“My Pops was gay?” I whisper. Smith gives me a sad smile.
“He was Mrs. Hunt. Your dad would never say he was. He just said he’d fell in love and it was irrelevant whether it was with a man or woman. His love didn’t define him.”
“Why didn’t he tell me?” I ask, hurt and betrayal stinging my eyes.
“Your dad was from old money Ella. When he fell for another man at a young age, his parents disowned him. You have to understand, it wasn’t common in those days for a man to date a man. It was frowned upon. Being shunned ended that relationship and he met your mum. They were best friends and she gave him what he desperately wanted. A family.” I shake my head. Not sure I know how to feel. How I feel.
Is this a dream?
“But she knew he was gay and when she found love with another man, she left. After your grandparent’s reaction, your dad decided he wanted to keep our relationship quiet until you were finished with your education. He didn’t want you or your sister to be treated differently because of who he was. Your dad loved you and would do anything to protect you.” My tears are streaming by the time Smith has finished.
Was any of my life real?
Overwhelming emotions pour from me and sobs shake my body. I loved my dad, I love him still, and I would have loved him no matter his sexual preference.
“I’m sorry,” I cry.
Damon storms the room at hearing my distress.
“You have nothing to be sorry for Ella,” he replies softly. He steps back and makes room for Damon to cross to me. “I had your dad’s love and that was enough for me. I know he’d want you to know now. I know he’d be happy with your chosen husband.”
Suddenly, his professional brooding expression slips into place, and he looks at Damon’s angry face. Damon takes a protective stance in front of me, not saying a word.
“Thank you for your cooperation Mr. Hunt. We have everything we need. Should we need anything more we’ll be in contact.” Damon gives Smith a swift nod. “Take care of Pops’ daughter,” Smith says before striding out the door, and leaving my husband in a confused, shocked state.
Damon quickly moves to pull me into his arms and rocks me until I’m calm. I relay everything Smith told me and my husband is equally as shocked as me.
I have so many thoughts and questions but my mind can’t focus on one thing. I feel like my whole life was a lie. I wait for hurt and anger to fill me but it doesn’t. Love fills me when Damon begins kissing my head. His lips slowly descend to mine and my heart takes flight.
Beep, beep, beep, beep.
And so does the heart monitor still attached to me. Damon stops and a smirk pulls on his lips.
“Why are you smirking?” I ask, a little breathless.
“I’ve felt your heart speed up beneath my touch but I wanted to hear the proof. You love me,” he states.
“I do,” I reply with a giggle.
Damon always gives me what I need and what I need is his love. My past is my past and my future is Damon’s. I don’t want to live in the past any more. I want to live my life to the fullest with this funny, sexy, broody, domineering, bossy man.
I’m keeping him.
He’s keeping me.
I have my home and life right in front of me. I lean up to kiss him, needing to feel his love and show him mine. Damon’s lips descend again.
Vera comes in, wheeling a chair, and has a smile gracing her lips. I giggle at my husband’s groan.
“Are you ready to meet your daughter?” she asks us, not noticing our moment, or pretending not to have interrupted.
“Yes,” I squeal with excitement. Damon’s face lights up and fills with an expectant gaze. It’s time to meet our Jellybean.
****
My nerves are making me feel sick. Damon is standing beside me to meet our daughter and although I know she’s okay, I feel like my happiness could be snatched away at any given moment.
Old habits die hard.
The NICU nurse, Emma, is bringing our Jellybean to us. Butterflies flutter in my body, my stomach churns, and I’m fidgeting. My heart is on some weird rhythm, pumping, beating, thumping, pounding to its own beat.
Emma approaches with a tiny bundle in a blanket and jealousy rages in me. I want my daughter in my arms, snuggling to my chest. Damon told me I was out of it for hours and almost all of Christmas day has passed.
Our daughter was born just past midnight on Christmas morning through caesarean section, explaining why I feel like I’ve been cut in half with a blunt blade. She’s our strong angel. She’s surviving, despite being born a month early, and I’m about to meet her for the first time.
Anticipation fills me and I mentally will
Emma to hurry up her steps. Damon sucks in a breath when she nears, seeing his daughter for the first time. I hold my breath.
“Oh God,” he whispers, choked. “She’s stunning.”
In the next heartbeat Jellybean is in my arms. Her warm tiny body nestling against my bare chest when I pull my hospital gown forward, holding her against me. She steals my breath when she nuzzles me, breathing me in. A small contented sigh slips past her heart shaped pink lips when she gets comfortable.
I fall in love with her with an intense force. My heart doesn’t split in half for Damon and her. My heart doesn’t just double in size. It swells, building and exploding around me, warming my soul. My love for her fills me to the brim.
She’s perfect.
She has a head full of hair, soft as silk and tiny ears. I run my finger over the shell, finishing at the small lobe, feeling her. Touching her. Knowing her.
She’s me and Damon.
She’s ours.
I can’t take my eyes off her.
Jellybean yawns, her plump pink lips forming a perfect o, and releases a sweet squeaky noise. My ears latch on to the sound, imprinting it to my memory. She settles, nestling against me again. Her lips are so kissable. I want to kiss her everywhere.
Perfectly pouty mouth, the bottom lip fuller than the top, with a seamless dip in the centre. Thick black eyelashes – longer than I would have thought possible – fan her cheeks.
Running my finger across her cheek, around her eye, down the tip of her nose, and stroking her lips, I take her in. My tears fall as I memorise every feature and commit each detail to my mind.
She’s precious.
“I’m lost for words, overwhelmed with awe and love. I’m a mum and need to take care of this baby doll, protect her with everything I am, and encourage her to be the best she can be. I thought I was ready for this and now she’s here I have no doubt I will protect her with my life. I already don’t want to breathe without her. I can’t remember her not existing. I feel like I’ve known her forever, like she’s always been in my life, my soul. She fits in our life Damon. She’s finally here,” I cry, my voice breaking throughout.
Our little Jellybean opens her eyes and I gasp. Melted chocolate meets my gaze, the exact same shade as her father’s. Damon wraps his arms around us, holding us to him. I look into his eyes and see him crying tears of joy and love.
Avowed (The Manipulation Trilogy Book 3) Page 22