Full Disclosure (No Secrets Book 1)

by Julie Olsen

  As I talked, Damien’s cool demeanor slipped. His shoulders were tense and the planes of his face had turned hard and forbidding.

  “Continue, please,” he said, his gentle voice belying the harshness of his profile.

  I folded my arms around my torso. “And then at some point, for some unknown reason, he changed, and his silly jealousies spawned increasingly crazy accusations and psychotic behavior. It began as little things, like taking me for a ride on his motorcycle and driving like a maniac just to scare the crap out of me. Or hiding and jumping out, just to hear me scream.”

  Damien closed his eyes briefly as if in pain. I swallowed and continued quickly.

  “He thought it was funny, how he could frighten me so easily, but then he’d comfort me, and after assurances he’d stop trying to scare me to death, I’d forgive him. I was stupid. The warning signs were there; I just chose not to see them.”

  “Because you see the good in people doesn’t make you stupid,” he said. “You possess a beautiful trait, and it’s one of the things I love about you.”

  A jolt of happiness moved through me at his tiny admission, and I brought my eyes slowly to his. He continued to gaze at me, his eyes warm and searching but otherwise his face remained impassive. It may have been a Freudian slip, but I didn’t care. It was like a lifeline for me at this moment, and I seized it with both hands.

  “For many reasons, our relationship stalled. When I broke things off, he took it like a man. No scene, no outburst. Another warning sign that I didn’t see. One night he called me, contrite and pleading for me to forgive him. He wanted to take me to dinner, to a restaurant that was our regular haunt, back when we were happy. He assured me he had changed, said he’d gotten counseling, and I wanted to believe him. In a moment of weakness, I agreed to meet.”

  Damien’s hands clenched into fists under the water and his face was foreboding. For a split second I wavered on telling him the rest.

  I took a cleansing breath. “After a lovely dinner, I followed him back to his place to pick up some things Travis said I’d left. He had been like the old Travis at dinner, telling jokes and making me laugh, so I allowed myself to stay for one drink. ‘One drink, for old time’s sake,’ he had said.”

  Unable to hold the intimacy of his gaze, I stared at the bubbles in the tub. “I woke up the next morning in Travis’s bed with the worst hangover of my life. Only it wasn’t a hangover. He had drugged me.”

  I swallowed, still averting my eyes. “And…‌he’d raped me.”

  “Goddamn it!” he said, sloshing water over the tub’s edge as he jack-knifed from his reclined position.

  The old shame welled up inside, just as it had when I told Lucy and Justine. I wanted to slide under the water so he couldn’t see me and disappear into nothingness. My voice was almost inaudible as I went on.

  “He denied, at first. Said I was crazy. Then he said the sex was consensual. Then…”

  Just breathe. In, out, in, out.

  “…he said he’d kill both Lucy and me if I went to the police. I could tell you all the scenarios that went through my head. All the second guessing and what-ifs. But in the end, I did nothing. I told no one. Not until later.”

  Damien’s hands gripped my thighs under the water. It was painful, but a distraction I needed. I wanted more, wanted him to press his fingers into my thighs harder.

  More.

  I widened my eyes in shock at my thoughts, then brought my hands down and rested them lightly on Damien’s. His grip immediately relaxed and turned into a caress. His face mirrored his hands, changing from bristling anger to tender caring as if a switch had been thrown.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  “Don’t you dare apologize!” he grated out. “Jesus, Olivia.” He stopped abruptly and the calm mask descended as before.

  “You of all people have nothing to apologize for.”

  His voice was gruff and for a second, I believed him. I closed my eyes and continued.

  “He continued terrorizing me, using scare tactics like showing up outside restaurants and shops I was at with friends, and leaving random items in places so I’d know he had been there, such as fast food wrappers shoved between the screen and window‌—‌my upstairs bedroom window. When I found my underwear drawer ransacked and all of my lingerie ruined with scissors and strewn all over my bed, I finally called the police and told Lucy and Justine.”

  I raised my gaze to his again and found him regarding me with thinly veiled furor. “The final contact came when an anonymous letter was left under the wiper blade of my Jeep. It was addressed to me using words and pictures from cut up magazines. There was also a picture of a burning house. I know it was Travis, but of course, there was no proof. The police were notified but it did no good. He simply disappeared. I haven’t heard from him since.”

  Damien was as still as I’d ever seen him.

  “Until you were hit,” he said, his voice like ice-cold steel.

  I nodded. “It’s possible.” I wilted under his hard stare. “Damien?”

  He raked both hands through his damp hair. He was breathing heavily and although his attention was on me, I knew his mind was spinning like a whirling dervish.

  “The physical proof. Did you show it to the police?”

  “Yes. Of course. But as far as I know they are unaware of his possible connection to the hit-and-run.”

  “And you’ve no idea where he may be?”

  I shook my head. “No. I gave the police all the information I knew and they exhausted all avenues. Up till then, Travis had a clean record, so…” I let my words trail off.

  His gaze softened. “And you. You had to live with this, knowing he was still out there. My God, Olivia.”

  I shrugged, my timid gaze meeting his and feeling the sudden sting of tears. “I had my posse. They were my rock, every one of them. I became a personal trainer almost immediately and trained hard to strengthen my body so I could use it to defend myself. I applied to work for Weldon and he showed such faith in me that I couldn’t help but succeed. He helped me stand on my own two feet again. I owe him so much.”

  He pulled my hand up and kissed my fingers. “It seems I owe him, too.”

  He reached behind himself to pull the stopper and then he stood, the water sluicing off his body and drawing my eyes to every delectable inch. Even with the heaviness of the topic, I was drawn to him. I simply couldn’t help myself.

  “You’re shivering.” And now that he had said it, I noticed he was right. He leaned over to grab a towel from the antique oak hutch in the corner. I took his proffered hand, and he pulled me up to stand next to him. We stepped out onto the bathmat, and he enfolded me first in the towel and then in his arms.

  “Thank you for telling me. I know it wasn’t easy,” he murmured against my hair. I let myself lean into him as fear and regret sloughed off in one cascading wave. The relief was overwhelming.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and burrowed into his strong embrace. “I would rather have kept this ugly part of me locked up tight,” I began, rushing to explain when he tensed against me. “But you deserved to know. And I deserved to tell you.”

  Pulling back, I pressed a kiss to his lips. “I never told my parents. Lucy and I took a vow to keep it from them. At the time, it seemed like the right thing to do. But it wasn’t long before the simple withholding of certain information turned into outright lying, just to keep my secret from them. I can’t let that happen with us.”

  “No secrets, Olivia. Full disclosure, remember?”

  “I know. Just…‌give me a little leeway sometimes. I’m trying, but even after two years of therapy, I can still fall prey to the old triggers.”

  He shook his head slowly. “Triggers?”

  “Things that set me off.” I took a deep breath. “If I know I’m being followed or watched, for one. Or feeling trapped. These things tend to make me feel‌—‌”

  “Claustrophobic?”
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  “Yeah, among other things.” I smiled wistfully. “I thought I was past all that, but I guess I’m not. Maybe I never will be. You need to realize that.”

  “Do I pull your triggers?” he asked.

  Here was the moment of truth. I blinked and connected my eyes to his. “You’re intense. And yes, since I’ve met you, I’ve had a couple of episodes where my past has come rushing back. But I’ve overcome it, and you don’t frighten me. If anything, you make me feel safe, Damien. And that’s saying something, coming from someone as screwed up as I am.”

  “You are far from screwed up,” he blurted. “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. I know I come on strong, but Olivia, please don’t run on me. I can change.”

  “Shh.” I cupped his face. “I sort of already did. After I didn’t hear from you yesterday, I tricked myself into believing you were bad for me.”

  He winced. “I take the blame. I should have been up front about Bella and Alex coming with me. I wanted to call you at least a thousand times just to hear your voice, but I didn’t want you to think I was some creepy stalker dude.”

  We stared at one another for long moments until we started laughing‌—‌deep belly-clenching, eye-watering laughter‌—‌at the absurdity of the situation.

  “Why are we laughing?” I said after I caught my breath. “This isn’t funny.”

  He leaned down and kissed my forehead. “I’m so glad you told me. I feel honored.”

  “I’m glad I did, too.”

  “Can you…‌Olivia, I never want you to…” He took a deep breath. “I’m an aggressive guy. If I’ve been the reason for your‌—‌”

  I placed my finger on his lips and smiled shyly. “I actually like your aggression.”

  “You do?”

  “I do.”

  He looked at me quizzically and took a deep breath. “Okay, then just tell me if I’m fucking things up with us.”

  “I think I can manage that. Ditto goes for you.”

  “From here on out, we’ll work on it together,” he said, stroking my face and causing tingly ripples to erupt across my skin like concentric circles created by a pebble on a still pond.

  “Thank you,” I said, my arms automatically linking around his neck. “I was so afraid of your reaction.”

  “My reaction?” He pulled me back and looked at me. “Jesus, you lived through this, and you’re afraid of my reaction?”

  I nodded at his incredulous expression. “Travis may have tricked me, but ultimately I let him do it. I should have known. I have nobody to blame but myself for what happened to me.”

  Damien cupped my face in his palms, his eyes blazing. “Listen to me. You didn’t ask to be raped. You didn’t want that monster to terrorize you, threaten you. No woman ever wants that. He’s scum. He’s worthless and I just hope he’s spent every waking minute since he hurt you looking over his shoulder. Don’t ever think you brought this on yourself. That’s bullshit, Olivia! I won’t have you believing that.”

  Something about the vehemence in his outburst made me blink in recognition as I stared at his resolute expression. For the first time, I felt a tug on the intricate strings of guilt I had created inside my soul. Oh please, let them unravel.

  “I wish I could do something. Start some type of organization to help other women who went through what I did. But I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

  He closed his eyes and sighed. “You’re amazing. In the midst of your fear, you still worry about others,” he said. “About me,” he whispered.

  He touched his forehead to mine and then his eyes snapped open, cold fury blazing in tangible currents even as he cupped my cheek.

  “Make no mistake. I will find him and he will pay for what he did. I promise you, Olivia, he’s never going to hurt you again.” He kissed my trembling lips, his arms like steel bands around me. “Now, baby, I need to know everything.”

  CHAPTER 18

  We were sitting cross-legged on my bed. I had the covers drawn up over my lap, for warmth and also because I was still wrapped in a towel and also sans underwear. Since my bath time confession, he had been like a whirlwind. It hadn’t escaped my notice that he had not asked anything especially painful for me to recount. Mostly just dates and addresses relating to Travis while we were together.

  “Are you going to involve anyone else?” I ventured.

  He glanced up from his laptop where he had been typing notes. He had put on a pair of pajama pants, the soft fabric stretching seductively in all the right places, and he sat at the foot of my bed, the laptop between us. It reminded me of playing Battleship with Lucy when we were kids. Except, of course, that Damien and his bare chest and rippling abs made my mouth water.

  “Only the team I have working to find the asshole who tried to run you over.”

  “You have a team?”

  “Yes. They report to me directly. No one else will be privy to these details. And I will only divulge what I think they need to know.”

  “How many people are on this team?”

  His eyes softened. “Two others, besides me. Are you having reservations about telling me?”

  I pulled my towel up and studied the white and cream stripes on my comforter. “Not you,” I whispered.

  He sighed softly and set the computer aside. “Paul and Tracy have been in my employ for many years. I trust them to be discreet in my personal matters and they have never failed me. They need to know some of the particulars so they can track Travis down. I promise you, they are on your side.”

  “Paul? Your driver?”

  “He does more than just drive me around town. He’s also my right-hand man.”

  “Oh.”

  “Tracy is the head of STG computer security, which means she’s my lead in all things relating to Internet and tech know-how. If Travis has left any kind of cyber footprint out there, she will find him,” he replied to my unvoiced query.

  I swallowed before continuing. “It’s just…‌I feel a little like a lab rat.”

  “Olivia,” he murmured, freeing my hand from its worrying of the sheets and holding it firmly. “I understand you’re feeling vulnerable right now. I want to erase that feeling from your memory. Do you trust me to do that for you?”

  His eyes were fixed and determined. Another thread popped loose. “Yes.”

  His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. “Good girl. We’re done for now.”

  Damien snapped his laptop closed. That was fast and pretty painless, as far as delving into the most wretched period of my life could go. Holding onto my towel, I hopped up from the bed in search of clothes, ever mindful that I would be sharing my bed with Damien. Maybe my regular sleep shorts and worn T-shirt shouldn’t be my go-to tonight.

  “Allow me,” a deep voice rumbled next to my ear.

  Damien leaned his hard, naked chest into my back and reached around me as he picked through my open underwear drawer like he was in the midst of a panty free-for-all.

  “These,” he said finally, pulling out a pair of simple white lacy panties. “Although I prefer you not to wear anything down there. No restrictions. Now, for the rest of the ensemble…”

  He bypassed me completely and began opening each drawer of the dresser until he found what he was looking for.

  As usual, my face blazed with embarrassment at his sexual innuendos, but this time I kept the lid on my emotions. I needed to be able to toss his dirty talk right back at him, and to do that I needed to get on his level, pronto. Letting go of ingrained mores would be hard, but not impossible. I had asked him to fuck me, after all. Granted, it was in the heat of the moment, but still impressive for my tender sensibilities, as Damien called them. Part of me was quaking at the thought, but if I were honest, another part of me couldn’t wait to hand-feed him a heaping helping of his own filthy medicine.

  “Hmm,” he mused, holding up a red silk teddy. “Is this what you normally wear to sleep in?”

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nbsp; He had turned toward me, and for a moment I allowed myself to drink him in. Chiseled chest, smoothly delectable, tapering down to tight and sculpted abs punctuated by a trail of soft, dark hair running south of his navel. Oh yeah, he was edible all right. Black silky pajama pants, tied low on his lean hips, accentuated his muscular thighs and did absolutely nothing to hide the growing bulge between his legs. What would it feel like to gently nuzzle my face against him there, to loosen the tie and let my lips travel over his silky hard length?

  I nonchalantly closed the drawers to the dresser. “Not normally, no. I usually sleep in the nude.” I kept my face down, a grin tickling the corners of my mouth as I did a mental fist-pump. Game on, Mr. Sexy Pants.

  “You don’t say.”

  “But seeing as you’ll probably steal all the covers again, I think I’ll wear my old flannel pajamas, so I don’t freeze to death.”

  He growled and I squealed as he grabbed me and tossed me on the bed. He covered me with his body so I couldn’t move.

  “As I recall, it was you who stole the covers.” He captured my hands and held them in a firm grip in one of his own above my head. My towel was barely hanging on. I was helpless as he straddled me and looked down in triumph.

  “Oh, that’s right,” I huffed between giggles. “You didn’t steal the covers. You snored!”

  “I sincerely doubt that, but since you’ve brought it up, you aren’t a quiet-as-a-church-mouse sleeper yourself.”

  “I do not snore!”

  “I’m not talking about snoring, Rip Van Winkle,” he said with a cunning grin.

  My cheeks burned as they turned a shade of crimson. “I do not…‌do THAT!” I spluttered.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

  “Oh my God!”

  “That’s what I was thinking, lying next to you.” His eyes danced merrily, in complete juxtaposition to my unequivocal and mortified outrage.

  I was speechless. I tried desperately to shove him off, but I was like the mouse to his lion. I couldn’t remember ever being so utterly embarrassed. Just let me die now was all I could think.