by Taylor Hart
He was stunned. “You can’t be serious.”
She waved a hand through the air. “It doesn’t matter. It really doesn’t.”
“Is this why you’re marrying Herbert?” He couldn’t even comprehend the idea that her parents didn’t have money and that her mother was living with her. “For money?”
“Now I really hate you.” She laughed sadly and poked him hard in the chest.
“Is it?” he demanded. Nothing made sense. Not her staying with Herbert, her parents losing their money. He took her hand. “Mads, for heaven’s sake, tell me whatever it is you’re not telling me.”
“He got my mom a liver.” Her expression turned forlorn. “I don’t know what he did, but last year, when we met and he met Mom, he pulled strings to get her at the top of the transplant list. He never admitted it, but I know he did. And he paid so many hospital bills I couldn’t pay. I tried to fight it, but he just keeps doing it.”
Damon thought of how Herbert always got what he wanted, how it was rumored that he had a temper and he had connections. “That’s not a good enough reason to marry him.”
Anger flashed into her eyes. “Oh, really? Isn’t that why you sold me out, to save your mother?”
Her words hit him like an emotional sucker punch. He’d been caught in his own trap.
Again, silence reigned.
He tossed up his hands. “If this is about money, then I’ll pay Herbert back. I’ll pay him whatever it costs if it means we can be together.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “It’s not about the money now.”
“Just tell me!” He was tired of playing games, and if they didn’t get to the point soon, he would combust. “I won’t lose you again!”
“I’m pregnant.”
Damon went still. If an atomic bomb hit him at this moment, he wouldn’t have noticed. “What?” Her words couldn’t even sink in.
“I haven’t even told him. It was one time, a month ago. I haven’t told anyone.” Tears misted in her eyes. “You’re right. I don’t love him …”
Now it all made sense. He was full of adrenaline and wished he was at war so he would know what to do to take down the enemy. On impulse, he pulled her into his chest. Remorse washed over him for all the stupid, petty things he’d done, now that he knew what she’d been going through.
She let him hold her for a time. When she pulled away, she was laughing, but her eyes were still wet. “And now I feel guilty even talking to you. I shouldn’t have brought you into this mess, Damon. If he finds out we’re even talking—I told you, he’s a dangerous man.”
“I told you, I can be a dangerous man too, Mads.”
“I just … he’s not going to let me go.”
Someone knocked on the door. “Madi, are you in there?”
Madison’s face burned red. “My mother. She can’t find you here. She’ll tell Herbert. Please …” She pointed to the fire escape.
“I’m not leaving,” he whispered. “We’ll face this. We’ll face him. Together.” He put his hand out to her. “You and me. Just like that night.” Just like the rest of their lives if he got his way.
She frowned. “Damon, please. If you care about me, leave,” she whispered back. “I’m engaged to Herbert. And I’m having his baby. The past is the past. We can’t relive it. We can’t change it.”
Dang, he wanted to know her. He wanted to know all about her. “The past doesn’t determine our future. Remember the cop car? When you asked that cop for a light?” He grinned at her. “I thought you were so funny and daring and brave that night.”
She hesitated, staring at their hands. “I’m sorry, Damon.” Her lip trembled as she looked up at him. “I’m not that girl anymore.”
More banging on the door. “Madi!”
Damon wanted to rail against the world. The idea that he couldn’t be here was ridiculous, and he would do anything for her. If she really didn’t want him, though, he would have to face that. He went out the fire escape, feeling less sure in this moment than he had in the last ten years.
Chapter 17
Madison, Present Day
Later that night, Madison lay in bed and stared at her phone, waiting for a red dot on Facebook to appear. She hated herself for sending Damon away.
She moved to the window and yanked it open, the rush of cool night air helping her breathe easier. Pressing her head to the window, she peered out at the empty street below. There was a gaping hole in her chest—a hole that she’d try to fill with other things over the past ten years. The trouble was, all she’d done was mess everything up. It was late, or very early, depending on how she looked at it. Almost one in the morning. Herbert had called around ten, and they’d chatted for a while about some dinner party he’d attended with the senator. She didn’t care.
Now she just felt hollow. Alone, not knowing what to do.
Damon had wanted to stay, but Madison wouldn’t let Herbert hurt Damon. She wouldn’t tangle Damon up in this. How could she?
Her mind flashed to the night when she’d wanted to leave a political dinner early. Herbert hadn’t wanted to, but she’d been worried about her mother, who had just had the surgery. So they’d left, and she’d seen the man who had openly opposed Herbert getting beaten up in the alley.
She’d called out and tried to rush to the man.
Herbert had yanked her away, whispering, “You can’t get involved in things like that. We’ll call the police when we get to the car.”
Although they had called the police, she’d had a feeling that Herbert was the one behind it.
There was a soft knock at the door. “Sweetheart.”
Annoyance rippled through Madison. She didn’t need her mother right now. All her mother had been able to talk about was when Madison would marry Herbert. She moved to the door, cracking it open. “Mom,” she said firmly. “I’m trying to sleep.”
“I can hear you bumping around in your room.”
Her mother acted like she still had control over her. Madison began to shut the door. “Good night, Mother.”
“Wait, please. I’m not feeling well.”
Pushing the door open wider, Madison inspected her. “I don’t believe you.”
Her mother stuck her chin into the air, her eyes sharp. “Why are you crying?”
“I’m not.” She retreated into her room.
“I know something’s going on. I know someone was here today.”
“So what if there was, Mother?” Madison’s heart raced, but she tried to keep a straight face. Would her mother tell Herbert?
Her mother waved a finger at her. “Don’t blow our chances. Don’t.”
Madison slammed the door, every part of her shaking. The only good thing about her anger was that it gave her energy. Quickly, she changed her clothes, pulling on sweats, a hoodie, and tennis shoes. She had to get out of here. Grabbing her car keys and purse, she rushed out of her room and out the front door.
As Madison drove the streets of Houston, she called Engrid, not even sure what time it was across the Atlantic.
“Madi?” Engrid answered on the second ring.
“Eng?” Her voice shook. Pulling over by a park, Madison poured her heart out to her friend, telling her everything.
After Engrid heard it all, she asked, “What do you want to do?”
“What do you mean? I told you, I don’t want Damon to get mixed up in this whole thing. I … I’m trapped.”
Engrid sighed. “Remember, just because someone puts a gun to your head doesn’t mean you have to just die.”
“You’re making no sense—that’s exactly what you always do.”
“Not if they haven’t pulled the trigger yet. You can fight; you can take the gun and turn it on them. There are literally hundreds of things you can do.”
Madison rested her head on the steering wheel, feeling so tired. “I don’t understand.”
“You’re not locked away by your parents anymore, but you’re acting like it.”
“What are y
ou talking about?”
Engrid cursed. “Madi, wake up. I know you want to help your mother, but you have. And don’t give me crap about owing Herbert anything, because he got her a liver and paid bills. That was his choice. What do you want?”
Madison thought about her friend’s question. She knew what she wanted, but she hadn’t thought this whole situation through with the clarity that Engrid had just given her.
“If you left, Madi, if you came to Oxford—which you could still do, by the way—you know your mother would survive. That’s what she does. She survives.”
Madison’s mind whirled with a million thoughts.
“If you chose Damon, do you really think Herbert would hurt him?”
“Yes,” Madison said quickly.
Engrid let out a sardonic laugh. “Hey, I knew Damon ten years ago, and that dude was scrappy then. Did you know he used to carry around steel knuckles? One time I asked him if it was scary on the streets where he lived, and he pulled out some brass knuckles that he kept in his pocket.”
Madison couldn’t believe she hadn’t known that. “Really?”
“I’m betting he’s still scrappy. Plus, he’s rich now. Don’t you think you should let him decide if he wants to deal with, as you put it, your mess?”
He’d told her he wanted to stay. He wanted to face it all together.
“Madi?” Engrid waited.
“Thank you,” Madison whispered, feeling better.
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m not sure, but I’ll call you when I know.”
“Ugh. I need to be there now.”
“No,” Madison said quickly. “Finish your studies, then come.”
“You call me if you need anything.”
Madison started the car. “I will. Love you, friend.”
“Love you, too.”
Chapter 18
Damon, Present Day
It’d been a brutal two days since Damon had slipped out Madison’s apartment window. He’d barely slept or eaten. He’d thrown himself into his work and tried not to think about her. Of course, that wasn’t possible. She may be having another man’s child, but it didn’t change the way he felt about her.
He went for a walk on the grounds of his estate, wandering past the lake, the hill, and the little river, into the land he leased to a farmer. He turned and looked back at the ranch. This should be theirs. His and Madi’s. They were supposed to be together a long time ago, but he’d thrown it away once and let her go another time. How could he have been so blind back then? Damon would give anything to go back and have one conversation with his younger self.
He stopped in his tracks, remembering the night of the governor’s ball. He’d carelessly dismissed the idea then, but now it had him racing back to his mansion, sprinting up the stairs and down the hall, and bursting into Ivan’s room without knocking.
He knew his friend kept insane hours too. That was part of the reason they both had separate wings of the house.
“Ivan!”
Ivan jerked upright in bed, saying a bunch of things in Russian that Damon could only assume weren’t nice words.
“Time travel! You gotta give me more.”
Ivan rubbed his eyes. Damon knew he’d been burning the candle at both ends, working on his latest invention. “What are you talking about?”
Damon took him by the scruff of the neck, feeling dangerously out of his mind. “Time travel. Is it possible? The guy, Pear, who you were going on and on about at the party at the governor’s place.”
Ivan cursed in Russian again, but he threw off his covers, put on his glasses, and picked up a bottle of vodka on the side table.
Damon snatched the vodka out of his hand. “I need the contact information.”
Ivan let out a growl. “So you can, what? Go to San Francisco? And tell him what?”
“That I want to go back and fix things.”
Ivan hesitated, giving him a look like he was crazy. “You’re serious?”
Damon nodded, more serious now than he’d ever been. “Ivan, I never should have let her go. I should be with her. I should have done so many things differently.”
“Hmm …” Ivan went to the windowsill and picked up a cigar from the ashtray, lighting it.
Damon frowned. “I asked you not to smoke in the house.”
Ivan puffed it and let out a roaring laugh. “You are going to talk about this right now when you need to go back in time?” He pointed to himself. “I’m the one who has problems, because how do you even know I will exist in this other time?” He gave Damon a sinister smile.
Damon’s heart raced. He knew how dumb the idea actually sounded, but he had to do something. “So you’ll help me?”
Ivan put the cigar between his teeth. “Well, of course.”
Chapter 19
Madison, Present Day
Madison sat in her office, feeling the nausea rise and abate. She’d been irritable and hardly able to sleep, but she had spent the past two days making a plan.
She’d put most of her money into another account, one she would allow her mother to access for necessities until she could figure out a job. She might be helping her mother for a long time, but if it meant she could be with Damon, would be worth it.
She’d finished her grant, then packed most of her things in her suitcases. They were still at the apartment, hidden away in her closet, but she would be ready to act soon.
“What’s wrong?”
She jumped and turned to the door, but it was only her boss, Mr. Reed. “Oh. Hi.”
Mr. Reed frowned and walked into the office. “Kind of jumpy and nervous for a newly engaged woman. Have you decided on the date yet?”
“Not yet.” She took in a slow breath, reminding herself that she should be happy, and plastered on a smile. “But soon.”
Mr. Reed moved to the chair in front of her desk. “I don’t think you’re happy, Madison.”
“What do you mean?” She didn’t want to risk telling anyone, not until she’d spoken to Damon and she was sure about everything.
He grunted. “I watch you, and you have been distracted and irritable. I’ve heard you going to the bathroom frequently. And you’re pale.”
“I’m a redhead,” she said, trying to play it off.
“I know he’s a dangerous man.”
Madison jerked her eyes to meet his.
He cocked an eyebrow. “I know he had to threaten a great deal of people to get your mother that liver, and it’s been hush-hush because the man donates a lot of money to this hospital, but the truth is that I’ve never liked him.”
Tears misted in her eyes. “Mr. Reed, please.”
He stood, taking her hand. “If he’s threatening you, you can tell me. I can help you.”
While Madison was glad to hear that Mr. Reed worried for her life, she was even more concerned about Herbert and what he could possibly do. She couldn’t involve Mr. Reed in her plans, either. “I’m fine, Mr. Reed. I am.”
Mr. Reed squinted at her. “Okay. But the offer stands. My door’s open.” He started to leave the office, but paused. “Madison. Have you explicitly thanked Mr. Damon Duke?”
Nervous jitters zipped through her stomach at hyper speed. Did Mr. Reed know something about him, about them? “Um, no, sir, I haven’t had a chance to.”
He nodded. “Well, I would like you to drive to his home and personally deliver a fruit basket.”
“A fruit basket?” She almost laughed; she’d been about to go out to Damon’s house anyway.
Mr. Reed dug out a card from his pocket. “Here’s his address. The fruit basket is on the secretary’s desk.”
“Okay. I’ll take it in a little bit.”
“No, I think you should do it now.”
“Now?” She tamped down on her nervousness. “Why?”
Mr. Reed sighed. “I don’t know. I just … have this feeling you need to go now.”
“Okay.”
With a nod, Mr. Reed walked out.<
br />
Why would her boss insist on this now? She looked up to heaven, hoping that maybe someone else was working things out. “Okay, I’m going.”
Madi pulled up in front of Damon’s house. It was two o’clock in the afternoon.
Her hands were shaking and she checked the car mirror to see how she looked. Dang, the house was huge, with a long, tree-lined driveway beyond the metal ranch sign that had Duke engraved in the center. The house was red brick with black shutters and a fountain in front. A greenhouse was attached to the side of the house. The sight gave her pause, making her think of the greenhouse she’d talked about all those years ago.
Slowly, she got out and grabbed the fruit basket. Then she went toward the front of the house, her legs like gelatin. The huge entrance featured a lion on the doorbell. She pressed the bell and waited.
Nothing.
She pressed the bell and waited even longer. Most likely, a butler or some assistant would answer the door. That would be for the best. If she could get out of here without seeing him again, it would be a huge win.
The door opened to reveal Damon standing there, holding a backpack slung over his shoulder. His eyebrows lifted. “Mads?”
All of her will to keep it together vanished. Her lip trembled. “Mr. Reed insisted I bring this fruit basket to thank you for your donation.”
Damon silently looked at the fruit basket, then back to her face. Electric energy surged between them.
She let out a strangled laugh. “I half expected Alfred.”
The side of his lip twitched up. “I gave him the afternoon off.”
She wasn’t sure if he was serious or not. She looked at the backpack in his hand. “Are you going somewhere?”
“Who is there? We have to go,” called the Russian from the other night.
“Just a sec, Ivan.” Damon kept his eyes on her.
Ivan appeared, and his lips twitching up in a small smile. “Hello.”