by Lydia Rowan
A moment later the door gave way. The instant the weight of the panel was lifted, Damien was moving.
“I’m not letting him go,” he called over his shoulder as he turned back and saw Lucian, Seth, and Adam working to slam the panel in place.
“We’ll catch you,” Lucian said.
But Damien was focused now, running down the long tunnel.
The concrete floor sloped and the air was cool, and Damien knew it was moving deeper underground.
How the fuck had Tremaine managed to build an underground tunnel in the middle of Maryland?
Nothing the man did should surprise him, and he would do well to stay sharp, so he did, running down the concrete floor but keeping his eyes open for anything.
There was one door at the end of the hall, and if Damien was right, it would lead up and out. If Tremaine escaped, he would be on the loose, no longer in Damien’s grasp.
Which meant that Lacey and Donovan would still be in danger.
He had grudgingly accepted the idea of Tremaine being in custody, but having him free and untethered was not an option.
There was no way he’d be able to take back what had happened; he was exposed, but that made him dangerous, even more dangerous than he had been before. Because he no longer had to keep up appearances, which meant he would be free to do whatever he wanted.
Damien turned the corner and barreled ahead and directly into Admiral Tremaine’s back.
The shock of the blow froze him, but only for a moment.
He shook off the dizziness that threatened to overtake him and instead continued on after Tremaine, who continued to run, moving like he was in track shoes and not in loafers.
Damien followed him around a corner, turned it at full speed and ran directly into Tremaine’s outstretched arm, which swept him right off his feet.
Damien landed with a hard thud, his head knocking back against the concrete.
“Rookie move, Damien,” Tremaine said.
Damien rolled on the ground, reached up to hold his head, hoping that maybe pressing against it would stop the ringing in his ears.
It did, and he gritted his teeth and turned to look at Tremaine and was met with a swift kick to the face.
“Another rookie move,” Tremaine said.
That kick snapped Damien to attention and he staggered up to his feet, his head swimming, but he ignored that and focused. When he first glanced at Tremaine, he saw two of him, but the double image soon melted back into one with the taunting face that had haunted Damien’s nightmares for five years.
“Aren’t you supposed to be running?” Damien said.
“I am. But I stopped for a moment,” he said.
“You wanted to give me a chance to kill you?” Damien said.
“I want to give you a chance to try,” Tremaine replied. Then he punched Damien, hit him in his side.
Damien recoiled as he realized a sharp piece of metal had stabbed into his side, sending a shudder through his body.
“You fucking stabbed me!” Damien said.
There was another sharp jab and Damien cried out again.
“Twice,” Tremaine replied.
Damien felt the warm rush of blood and reached up to touch the wound, felt the slick warmth coat his fingers.
He didn’t look at his hands, though.
Instead he focused on Tremaine.
“Don’t you feel pathetic?” Tremaine said, looming, leering, but not attacking.
“Because of what you took from me?” Damien asked, trying to focus on keeping his breath and making sure that Tremaine didn’t get any closer.
“You were always so great, but you didn’t really know anything, not then, not now. You, letting a sixty-year-old man get the better of you.” Tremaine nodded.
Damien couldn’t tell whether Tremaine was disappointed or proud, but he didn’t care.
“You’re getting the better of me?” Damien asked.
Tremaine struck again, and Damien felt another puncture in his side. Damien shuddered, his body tensing as the wave of pain rushed over him.
“Yes,” Tremaine said as he pulled back.
Damien struck out, swinging widely, but he did not reach Tremaine.
“You’ll never make it out of here,” Damien said.
He felt the adrenaline rushing through his system, but that was only temporary, he knew. Tremaine had probably nicked an artery. Damien could be bleeding out right now. Again failing Lacey, and the son he hardly even knew.
“Pathetic,” Tremaine said.
“Yeah,” Damien replied.
He slumped against the wall, and Tremaine frowned.
“Don’t you have any pride?” he asked.
“Maybe you took that from me too,” Damien spat back, holding his hand tight against his side.
Tremaine frowned again.
“You could’ve been so much,” he said, shaking his head.
He reached out, and Damien could see he was going for the killing blow, but Damien caught his arm, and then lunged, tackling him to the floor.
Tremaine’s eyes went wide with shock, and Damien growled, something primal overtaking him.
“I could’ve been,” Damien said. “I think I’ll start trying to achieve that again today.”
As he spoke, he punched the man, ignoring how each blow sent a wave of pain through his body, and just kept delivering those blows.
Tremaine ducked, tried to get Damien off, but Damien didn’t move and instead he held the man down as he continued to punch at his stomach and then made his way to Tremaine’s face.
“You took everything,” Damien said.
At the same time, he brought his fist down on Tremaine’s face, heard the satisfying crunch of his jaw as it shattered.
That sound made him want to hear it again, so he punched again.
He went to punch again, but felt another sharp jab, this time at the point of his shoulder blade.
“Fuck,” Damien said, fumbling as the pain shot through him.
He reached back, and that was enough to allow Tremaine to move from under him.
Then it was Tremaine who was on the attack.
He tackled Damien with one shoulder, twisted them so that Damien was on his back, the small knife buried in his shoulder.
“Yeah, I took everything. And I’m going to take even more,” Tremaine said as he began to punch Damien. “And it’s going to be your fault,” he said, emphasizing the last word with a blow to Damien’s already injured side.
The pain slammed through him, but Damien would maintain consciousness.
He buried a hand under Tremaine’s neck and stretched his arm as far as he could, trying to put distance between him and Tremaine.
He had just enough space to protect himself from further blows to his injured side, but he could feel the dizziness coming, and he fought to stave it off while he tried to keep Tremaine at bay.
“Come on, Damien. You’re supposed to be good. But look at you, fighting for your life with a man older than your father,” Tremaine said, staring down at Damien with a vicious gleam in his eyes.
Tremaine was taunting him, trying to distract him, but Damien couldn’t give in.
Instead, he continued to fight, kept his arm extended, and slowly began to twist, ignoring the stabbing pain in his back, the knife going ever deeper with each movement.
Tremaine catapulted at him, scratched his face, clawed at his neck, but Damien kept moving. “You’re never getting out of here, Damien. You’re going to die down here, and then I’m going to find Ms. Bowers. And I’m going to kill her. Just because. Maybe I’ll kill your brother’s wife too. Kill your brother. You’ll never know, because you’ll be dead,” Tremaine said, his face twisted as he continued to scratch Damien’s face.
“Maybe I’ll die down here,” Damien said, and Tremaine paused, looking confused.
Damien locked eyes with him, hoped that he could see all the hatred that he felt, the happiness of this moment.
“But you’ll
die first,” Damien said.
Then, using all the strength he could manage, he wrapped his hands around Tremaine’s neck and pulled, and then lifted. Tremaine lurched forward, his momentum only stopped when his head landed against the solid concrete wall.
He continued to fight, so Damien pulled back ever so slightly and then slammed his head into the wall again. And then again, until the admiral finally stopped moving.
Damien lowered his arms, then turned, letting Tremaine fall to the floor.
He slid away and looked into Tremaine’s cold eyes, saw the blood that began to run down his face.
Damien’s breath was coming wildly now, and he watched Tremaine, not sure if he could yet believe that it was true.
But it was.
The admiral was dead.
He heard the clamoring of feet then, looked away from the admiral when he sensed the presence of the others.
He looked up, saw Seth, Adam, and then looked at his brother.
“Took you long enough,” he said.
21
Lacey had spent the entire day making sure Donovan had been too preoccupied to notice how tense she was. He’d definitely noticed Damien’s absence, even with all his new and interesting friends to entertain him. She’d spent hours fielding questions about this daddy that Donovan found infinitely fascinating.
Finally, though, he’d gotten tired, and after she’d tucked him in, she tried to relax.
Roy and LaTonya had retired to one of the safe house guest rooms, leaving her alone.
She wouldn’t panic. She’d promised Damien she would keep calm, but it was hard, near impossible. The last day had been excruciating, exhausting, wondering where he was, whether he was okay while trying to remain calm for Donovan.
Roy and LaTonya had surprised her by coming to Seattle, and they’d helped her keep Donovan busy. It had been a good day, all things considered, but things were still up in the air, and she wouldn’t feel good until she saw Damien again. Then, maybe after, they could talk about their future, the future she so desperately hoped they had.
When they had been together the last time, it had felt different, deeper, and Lacey didn’t doubt that they loved each other. What she didn’t know was whether that would be enough to forgive the past.
She dozed off, and a few hours later, the door opened. Lacey’s heart leaped to her throat, and she watched silently as Damien walked into the house.
His first stop was the room where they had put Donovan, and she watched as he looked in on the sleeping boy and then, a moment later, made his way to the room she was in.
She stood in the doorway and looked at him for long seconds, letting the emotions wash through herself. Then she threw herself into his arms and held him tight, pulled back when he flinched.
She dropped her arms, looked at him closely to see that he appeared to be in pain.
“You’re hurt!” she said.
“Nothing serious. A few stitches,” Damien said.
“Stitches! You were cut?” she said.
“A gift from Tremaine,” Damien replied, looking weary but also calm.
“He’s been arrested?” she asked, her voice edged with worry.
Damien met her eyes. “He’s dead,” he said, the satisfaction he felt from that word coming out loud and clear.
“What happened?” she said.
“He tried to escape. I couldn’t let that happen,” he responded.
Lacey continued to look at him, took a deep breath, and then finally spoke. “So he’s gone? He won’t try to hurt you, hurt Donovan?” she whispered.
“Or you. Or anyone else. Ever again,” Damien said, his body still rigid but his face showing peacefulness she hadn’t seen in a long time.
“Good,” she finally said.
Lacey had never thought she’d celebrate someone’s death, but after all Tremaine had done, she wouldn’t pretend she wasn’t happy that he was gone, and she wouldn’t spare him another thought, wouldn’t allow him to take another second of her life.
“Yeah, it is,” Damien said. But as he spoke, Lacey could still see the clouds in his eyes.
“But?” she asked, steeling herself for whatever he might say, praying it wasn’t more bad news.
“I got a call from the Secretary of Defense, thanking me for my valiant efforts to expose corruption. I’m certain that would have been a different conversation if the media hadn’t been involved.”
“Yeah,” she said. “That was a good idea. What else?” she said, seeing from his expression that wasn’t the end of the story.
“They are going to rescind my dishonorable discharge, and I might even get my medals back,” he said.
“That’s wonderful, Damien. I’m so happy for you,” she said, though she couldn’t miss his distressed expression. “You don’t seem happy.”
“I’m happy that Tremaine is gone.” He shrugged. “The rest of it… I don’t know. That stuff doesn’t matter anymore,” he said.
She frowned. “You worked so hard for those honors. You deserve them,” she said.
His eyes darted to hers and held them, deepening, darkening.
“Yeah, but all that time, when I was alone, I didn’t think about commendations, didn’t think about my career. All I thought about was you. How much I missed you.”
Lacey’s throat was closing with emotion, so she couldn’t speak. But she reached for him, and curled her fingers with his.
“None of that other stuff matters, Lacey,” he said. “Nothing matters but you and Donovan and making sure you’re safe. If I don’t have that, then the rest of it means nothing.”
“I love you, Damien,” she finally said when her voice allowed her to speak.
He smiled. “I missed hearing you say that.”
“Then I’ll say it all the time,” she said.
He laughed, quick and low, but then went serious again, connecting eyes with her. “I want us to be together. To be a family. I love you, Lacey,” he said.
When Lacey looked at him then, she saw Damien, the man she’d loved. The man she’d lost. The one she thought she’d never have again.
She had him back now, had a chance she’d thought she never would.
And in that moment, she vowed she would cherish him and their family forever.
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