Love Always, Damian

by D. Nichole King

  On his bed, Damian thrust into me again and again and again. Harder than he ever had. Sweat dripped from his brow, and his eyelids squeezed shut.

  “Damian,” I whimpered. “Please.”

  In answer, he gripped my butt to raise me a little higher so he could plunge deeper inside me. I stretched my arms over my head and clung onto his headboard for leverage. Planted my feet on the mattress and held my breath.

  Panting, I turned my head to the side. Empty bottles of booze littered the surface of his nightstand. More lay scattered on the floor that I didn’t see earlier when I arrived. Not that it would have mattered; I needed to forget tonight as much as he did.

  I glanced back up at him. Bloodshot eyes peered at me before they closed again. Pain was what we both knew, and Damian held onto his like he was afraid to let go. I got it, though, because I was there too—in that place where you struggled against every second wanting to be free and to be sucked in deeper at the same time. It was why I allowed what he was doing to me.

  Thunder boomed outside, and a crack of lightning lit up the room. Damian’s whole body glistened with new moisture. His fingers dug into my flesh as he dipped down to bite at my neck.

  “Damian, please. You’re hurting me,” I said, but he didn’t hear me.

  Another bolt of lightning cracked above us, the first big storm we’d had since the accident two weeks before that took Liam’s life. It was the reason I went there—so I wouldn’t have to bear it alone.

  Damian’s groans told me he was close to the edge, so I tightened my grip on the headboard, holding myself steady. Right then, I decided when we were finished, I’d grab my clothes and crash in Liam’s bed until the storm passes. Clearly, Damian was too drunk for me to get the comfort I needed from him.

  His body tensed, and he pushed himself deep, deep inside me.

  “Ohhh,” I cried out in pain.

  His moan drowned me out, though. Still on top of me, he breathed hard for a minute. He didn’t look at me, and I didn’t look at him. Then, without a word, he lifted himself up and got off the bed.

  I pried my grip from the headboard and curled my hands into a ball. My arms and legs hurt, too, and I wondered if I could even stand.

  I bit the inside of my cheek, searching the floor for my clothes. When Damian ripped them off earlier, he’d flung them everywhere. I should have known then that something was off.

  I located my shirt and panties—one on a chair, the other at the foot of the bed.

  Then I found Damian.

  He was at the window, gazing out. Slowly, I sat up, careful to not disturb him. I preferred to make my exit without him noticing.

  But as I went to stand, my legs gave out and I fell back on the bed. Damian’s attention swung to me. Tears streamed down his face, and his eyes roamed over me for a second before he made his way to the bed.

  “I’m sorry, Ellie. I didn’t…” He brushed over the teeth marks on my neck. Then he gathered me in his arms, something he’d never done before. “I should have taken care of you like I promised. I should have…” He dropped to his knees and buried his head between my breasts.

  I wasn’t sure what came over me. Maybe it was his brokenness or that he was Liam’s little brother, but I held him against me and let his tears drip down my stomach.

  “It should have been me that night,” he said. Even though he hadn’t talked about Liam since before the funeral, I instinctively knew what he meant.

  “It’s not your fault, Damian,” I said, running my fingers through his hair. “The storm. The roads were slick, and…”

  “No, Ellie. You don’t understand.” He lifted his head, and all I could see was the overwhelming guilt in his eyes. “Mom didn’t want to go out by herself, and Liam was studying for an exam, so I told her I’d go. But then…then Dad called to say he was with a patient and wouldn’t be home until late. I was pissed at him. I said he didn’t deserve a stupid cake for a birthday he didn’t even show up for. I told Mom I didn’t want to go with her.”

  Damian’s palms slid down my body as he swallowed. “Liam didn’t want her to drive alone. He didn’t say anything to me when he left. All he did was turn his back and walk her out.

  “Elle. They’re both dead because of me.”

  Chapter 32

  Ellie

  I stayed in Damian’s room that night. Holding him, comforting him until he fell asleep in my arms. He didn’t mention it after that, and I never brought it up, but it’s not something that’s easily forgotten. However he dealt with the guilt, he never hurt me like that again.

  I hug the blankets to my chest and bury my face in them. So much time has passed, and I’ve worked so hard to convince myself how much I don’t need him.

  These last years, I thought I was building a wall to shield myself. Each time I stopped thinking about him, and for every memory I pushed back, I stacked the bricks higher and stronger—impenetrable.

  But walls crumble. Break down and leave what’s behind exposed. I don’t know how much longer I can hold my resolve.

  Because right now, at this moment, I don’t want to be without him.

  ~*~

  Damian

  I’m so fucking drunk and it’s great. I shoot back tequila shots one after the other. By eleven o’clock, I’ve lost track of how much booze I’ve downed.

  Tonight, I’m not thinking. I’m tired of that shit. Tired of the last six months with my mind on nothing except Ellie and Lia. I’ve been walking the line for them, but right now, I’m off the beaten path and loving the freedom a shit-load of alcohol can give.

  The Kappa girl is working me over good in the furthest stall in the men’s bathroom, but I’m considering bending her over the toilet because that would be even better.

  I watch her because it’s fucking hot what she’s doing—her tongue gliding and licking all over me. Her eyes flick up and catch me staring. I grin, flashing my dimples to reward her efforts. With a mouth full of me, she does her best to counter.

  I gulp down a swash of beer to keep my buzz strong.

  “Want a drink?” I offer.

  The chick pulls away from me, and I tip up the bottle for her. She sucks it down like a pro, leaving me dry.

  She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “Thanks.”

  Oh hell yes.

  “I can have a condom on in two seconds flat if you want a little extra fun,” I offer.

  Her finger circles my length, and she shakes her head. “Sorry. I’m already taken.”

  Before I can respond, she has me in her mouth again, moving faster and faster. She grabs my hips and pushes me into her.

  I ride the sensation higher and don’t even try to hold back when I’m at the top. I tip my head back as I release into her mouth, and Ellie’s face flashes in my mind. Pale blue irises pierce into me.

  My eyes fly open because I don’t want to think about Ellie. She’s the number one reason I found my way into this bathroom.

  The moment’s over. I zip up my jeans and walk out.

  “Tequila. Double,” I say when I get to the bar.

  I shoot back the drink, but I know it won’t do any good. Not if Ellie keeps making appearances in my head.

  Suddenly, I’m not in the mood to party anymore. I pay my tab and go out to my car. Grab my phone from under the seat. I don’t look at it, though. Ellie’s thinking about my offer to fly them up for Christmas, she said, but she doesn’t respond whenever I text her.

  I’m not sure what I’ll find, and neither option sits right with me. If the screen is blank, I might punch the window out. If it’s not and she called while I was inside, then what the hell am I supposed to do with that?

  I want Lia back. I want Ellie. But I hurt them both, and Ellie may never forgive me. Then again, after tonight…

  Fuck, I don’t know what I’m doing.

  I turn on my phone and see two missed calls—both from Ellie.

  Shit.

  I’m wasted now, and she’s probably already asleep. />
  I drive home, even though I should have called Dylan for a ride. I bypass the liquor cabinet and make a cup of coffee to sober up. Then I head to my room. Fall on the mattress and stare at the ceiling. My phone is still clutched in my hand.

  Against my better judgment, the alcohol eggs me on, and I dial Ellie’s number. I listen to it ring, hoping she won’t pick up. But she does.

  “Damian?” Her voice sounds tired, like I woke her up. Even so, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.

  “Hey, Elle,” I say.

  “It’s, um…almost three in the morning. Everything okay?”

  I laugh. “Yeah, I’m returning your call.”

  As soon as I say it, I realize how slurred it sounds. Ellie notices too.

  “Right. Are you drunk?”

  I shake my head even though she can’t see me, giving myself a second to concentrate on what to tell her. “Had a few at The Underground is all.”

  “Oh, well I’ve been thinking about your offer to fly us up for Christmas, and…”

  My bedroom door swings open, and I don’t hear the rest of Ellie’s sentence. Cassie stands there, wearing a floor length coat. I’d completely forgotten she was coming. Slowly, she unties the belt, and the coat falls off her shoulders.

  Son of a bitch.

  A fire-red lace bra accentuates her perky nipples and full breasts; it’s paired with matching panties that give everything away. In red heels, Cassie saunters toward me, her hips swaying as she moves.

  Her knees hit the edge of my bed, and the mattress sinks as she climbs up. On all fours now, she prowls up my legs. She straddles me, and the swell of her tits squeeze together in front of my face.

  I’m instantly hard.

  “Damian? Did you hear me?” Ellie asks.

  Her voice brings me back, but I don’t have a fucking clue what she said. I close my eyes to focus on her instead of Cassie.

  Cassie unzips my jeans and starts dry humping me. “That…that sounds great, Elle,” I stutter out.

  Next thing I know, Cassie’s sucking on my neck, and I let out moan.

  “Damian?” Elle says, and I register the crack in her voice. “You’re not alone, are you?”

  I don’t reply, and she’s quiet for a second.

  “Of course not. Why would you be?” Ellie answers herself with a sarcastic chortle.

  Cassie giggles, her laugh slicing through me because I know Ellie heard her.

  “Ellie—” I breathe out.

  “Stop, Damian. Just…stop, okay?”

  She’s crying, and it’s fucking tearing me apart. I shove Cassie off me and retreat to the living room.

  “Ellie, listen,” I try again.

  “No. I’m done listening, Damian. I can’t believe I thought…”

  “Thought what?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It does matter, Elle. It matters to me.” I’m forceful because I have to get through to her.

  Cassie walks in and leans against the doorjamb and watches me. I turn my back to her.

  “Stop calling me that,” she half cries half shouts. “It doesn’t matter because nothing has changed and nothing ever will change. Shit, Damian. You called me drunk and with some girl all over you. Who does that?”

  “Why do you care so much about what I do?” I throw back.

  She hesitates, and I imagine her biting her lip. “Because Lia—”

  “No,” I interrupt. “Enough hiding behind Lia. You’ve done that for four years now, and I’m not buying it. We didn’t go through all the shit we’ve gone through without getting to know each other. So, I’ll say it again: why do you care what I do?”

  I hear her breathe on the other end, and with how long it’s taking her to answer, my guess is she won’t. Not honestly, anyway, because she’s pissed at me.

  “I don’t,” she says, and I know she’s lying by the low tone of her voice.

  I lower mine to match hers. We’re opposites like that; when I speak softly it’s because I’m being brutally honest. “She doesn’t mean anything to me, Elle. I swear to you.”

  “She doesn’t mean anything to you? Oh, that makes it all better.”

  “I haven’t heard from you in months. What the fuck did you want me to do? Besides, nothing happened, and nothing’s going to happen because I’m sending her home.”

  Ellie sobs on the other end, and I’d do anything to take back this whole shitty night.

  “Elle?” I say, still quiet.

  No answer. I can still hear her breathing, though, and I’m surprised she hasn’t hung up.

  “Elle, please.” I pause. The next words I’m about to say scare the hell out of me, but it’s now or never. “I’m flying you up so we can talk. Because, Elle…I love y—”

  Click.

  I stand in the middle of the room and stare at the phone. Why do I keep fucking up?

  Goddammit!

  I squeeze the cell until I hear a crack, then I chuck it across the room at the door. I’m so pissed at myself, all I see in front of me is a haze of red. I walk over to retrieve my broken phone so I can throw it again. Instead, though, I slam my fist through the drywall.

  Once.

  Twice.

  I get three hits before someone grabs me.

  I don’t think; I react on instinct. I spin around and land my fourth punch on whoever’s behind me.

  The haze clears, and I see Dylan hunched over and glaring back at me.

  “Shit, Damian,” he says, wiping the blood from his lip. “What is your problem, man?”

  I glance over at Cassie, who’s leaning against the doorjamb like she’s bored, and back to Dylan. “I don’t know.”

  “You need to figure it out, dude,” he shoots back.

  Cassie pushes out of the doorway and starts over like the whole thing was for her entertainment. She slinks her arms around my neck. “Come on, baby. That girl on the phone doesn’t know what she’s missing.”

  I bite my teeth together, my gaze locking with hers. She wears a seductive smirk and licks her lips as if to show me what I’m in for. But I already know.

  “Yeah, I’m pretty sure she does, and I don’t blame her,” I say. I unhook Cassie’s arms and step away. “It’s time for you to go.”

  “Are you serious?” she asks, her eyes skimming over me.

  “I’ll get your coat.”

  She grimaces. “If I leave, I am not coming back.”

  As I brush past her, she huffs. Whatever.

  Back in the living room, I toss her the coat. “You know your way out?”

  She rolls her eyes. I don’t watch her leave. Instead, I go back to my room and collapse on my bed.

  Dylan’s right. If I don’t figure shit out soon, I’ll lose Ellie and Lia for good.

  Chapter 33

  Ellie

  I receive an email the next day, confirming two tickets with American Airlines to Des Moines in five days. Damian also arranged for a rental car. Too bad it’s for nothing.

  God, I was so stupid! I let my guard down for a minute, and Damian took the opportunity to rip my heart out. That’s not even the worst part, though. The worst part is how bad I wanted to tell him how I felt. Because right before I hung up, he started to say the words I’ve only dreamed of hearing from him. Except, I don’t believe him.

  “Elizabeth? Are you okay?”

  Blake’s words pull me back into my living room. My eyes flick up to him.

  He motions to the tape and scissors I’m holding. “You’ve been wrapping that one present for a half an hour now,” he says.

  I look down, and suddenly I remember what I was doing—wrapping Lia’s Christmas presents. “Yeah, I’m good. Just tired,” I say, waving off my distraction. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”

  Blake tosses me a glittery pink bow that matches the paper I’m using. He watches me, and I squirm under his gaze.

  “I haven’t wanted to pry, but uh, what’s going on between you and Damian?” he asks.

>   I shrug. “Nothing.”

  He quirks a brow.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” I mutter.

  Blake rubs his chin and sighs before he finishes wrapping his box.

  Ten minutes later, I’ve done nothing but stare at the wall. Blake scoots beside me, puts an arm around my shoulder, and hugs me to him.

  And I fall apart.

  ~*~

  Damian

  I haven’t heard from Ellie. I’ve called a few times, but she won’t pick up. Nor has she answered my texts.

  Their plane is supposed to land at noon in two days, and I’m praying they’re on it. Even if they don’t see me, I want my babygirl to have a white Christmas like the ones I remember when I was a kid with snowmen, snow angels, and ice-skating. She’ll for sure have it too, since the ground is already covered, and a fresh blanket is due to roll in tomorrow night.

  I went overboard with gifts for her, all under the tree at Dad’s house. I bought Ellie a few things too.

  “Damian?” Leslie says, rounding the corner into the nurses’ station. “Your dad’s in his office. He wants to see you.”

  I make my way down the hall. His door is open, so I let myself in.

  He wasn’t around when I arrived this morning for work, and one of the nurses said he’d been called down to emergency—that was a couple of hours ago.

  He lifts his head when I enter. His eyes are bloodshot from lack of sleep, I guess. “Have a seat.”

  I do.

  Dad peers at me for a second before he takes off his glasses and squeezes the bridge of his nose. I’ve known my father long enough to understand what this means.

  “I don’t know how to tell you this, son, but you’re going to find out, and I’d rather it be from me,” he starts.

  I readjust myself in my seat as chills race over my skin, though I have no idea what he’s talking about.

  “Have you heard if Lia and Ellie will be up for Christmas?” he asks, and I’m confused because surely what he wants to tell me doesn’t have to do with Lia.