Chapter 24 - Damien's shadow self

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Damien paces backwards and forwards muttering under his breath, almost as if he’s trying to find the right words.

“This isn’t how I wanted to tell you, you know,” he says out loud, still pacing and not looking at me.

“I know,” I answer quietly. He stops in front of me and comes down on one knee.

“I just don’t want to send you running to the hills. I love you so much…”

“I know. I love you too. Don’t worry, nothing can be worse than what happened in my past,” I reassure him with a smile, even though I’m not so confident with my answer. I don’t know what would be a deal breaker, but judging by his behavior, it seems bad.

Damien’s face grows serious very quickly. The smile slips from my face and Damien looks down to the floor.

“It’s worse isn’t it?”

He runs his fingers through his unruly hair and his face looks strained. I can see the stress in his eyes. He’s usually so sure of himself and now he has me worried and fearing the worst. With a big sigh he takes my hand in his, squeezing it tightly.

“Miranda runs a large crime ring. I worked with her and, at that time, we had almost gotten things running on the international level.” His voice seems so calm, but the white knuckles on his other hand, that’s clenched in a fist on his knee, tell another story.

“What kind of crime ring?”

“It varies a lot. Whatever made money: drugs, prostitution, fraud... You name it, we did it.”

My mouth goes dry. Prostitution? Drugs? What did I get myself into? All I can picture in my head is the man who shot me and I can’t help but wonder if Damien used to be that way. The thought makes me feel nauseous. No wonder he didn’t want to tell me.

“What was your part in it?” My voice is barely audible, asking the question I don’t really want to know the answer to.

“I was more behind the scenes. I was the tech guy, getaway driver, planner, and basically whatever Miranda needed of me.” I can feel his eyes on my face, but I can’t even look at him. Silence fills the room once again and I can feel my heart thudding almost too loud in my chest.

“Say something,” he pleads, squeezing my hand harder, almost to the point of cutting off circulation.

“I don’t know what to say,” I respond.

“I’ve never killed anyone. I’ve never even laid my hands on anyone, I swear.”

Well I guess that’s a plus, I guess, but he was still an accessory, and I can’t be sure if that’s any better. I sigh and look into his eyes, which have become teary and wide.

“So what is it that Miranda wants with you?” I ask, getting to the point of this whole excursion and hopefully moving away from undesired topics of discussion.

“She wants both of our help in securing funds from a large company. There are a lot of components that need to run smoothly for this to happen; components that haven’t been fully explained to me yet.”

“I don’t understand. How am I supposed to help if I have a wounded leg?”

“Everybody has their uses,” he responds simply, his eyes turn to the ground and have a glazed over effect. “They will be explaining the whole thing soon. Either way, I don’t think we have a choice.”

“It would appear that way,” I agree quietly.

The door swings open and a large man comes inside, dressed in a grey suit. He could be an excellent bouncer or even a poker player judging by his emotionless face. He comes over and unties my hands, freeing me from my bonds. I rub at my wrists and I look up to see Damien’s hand outstretched to me. I place it gingerly in his, feeling a little more wary of him now that I’ve discovered his criminally dark past. His face falls a little at my reaction, but scoops me up to carry me.

“Where are we going?”

“To get you ready,” he murmurs, pulling me closer to his chest. I inhale the familiar scent of his cologne and something flutters inside my stomach. I think back to the last time I remember him carrying me and how he was my savior; my knight in shining armor. Now, his armor’s tarnished and the person underneath isn’t as perfect as he was, but does that mean I love him any less? The fluttering tells me no, but it certainly lays some seeds of doubt in my mind.

We follow the large suited man out the room and down the hall. The swaying motion makes me feel a little nauseous, so I close my eyes and breathe deeply until the feeling subsides. I open my eyes and see that we’ve come to a different room, which is vastly more comfortable than the last.

A large chair sits in the center of the room surrounded by some simple furniture; a closet, set of drawers, and a long mirror hanging on the wall, which I notice isn’t stone, but cream wallpaper. Well, this is a great change in pace.

Damien sits me down in the chair and I scowl as I see more restraints on the arms of the chair.

“Ugh, do I really need to be tied up when it’s so obvious that I’m not going anywhere in a hurry?” I point at my leg with one eyebrow raised. The man’s face remains still as he regards me for a moment.

“Yes, Ma’am, it was our orders,” he responds stiffly. I grunt in response and allow him to bind my wrists once again. “You have to come with me, Mr. Hunt. Miranda wants to go over the details with you.”

“You’re leaving me here again?”

“Yes, Ma’am. Gina will be joining you shortly.” He motions to Damien to follow him and he walks to the door.

“Who’s Gina?” The man ignores me and exits. Damien lingers at my side, plants a kiss on the top of my head, and leaves reluctantly.

“I’ll be back with you as soon as I can,” he says before leaving me alone.

“True to his word, a dark-haired lady walks in and introduces herself as Gina. She’s very quiet and busies herself almost immediately with making me presentable.

“What do I need to look good for?” I ask her. To my annoyance, she ignores me as well and just continues on with the task at hand.

She gives me a thick layer of make-up and even puts fake eyelashes on me. Moving to my hair, I hear her tut with disproval at my matted mess. I haven’t exactly been given the chance to brush my hair or anything, and I suppose rolling around in the back of a moving van didn’t help its case. She reclines the chair and washes my hair in a bowl of water. Do they not even trust me enough to take me to a shower?

She finally unties me and opens the closet to reveal a familiar, long, black dress with a bag of accessories attached to the hanger. I slip into it in front of her, whilst she watches blandly, and immediately recognize it as my own. I guess there’s no such thing as privacy here.

I imagine who was sent to get it. My mind wonders back to the man who attacked me and I feel nauseous at the thought of him going through my closet and, most probably, my underwear drawers. I hope I’m wrong.

When I’m done, Gina helps me over to the mirror and I get to see myself for the first time since my impromptu makeover. My hair is straight and soft-looking and my face is surprisingly pretty considering what I’ve been through today. My eyes scan down and see that the dress conveniently hides my bandage, just above my knee.

She bends down and pushes some black flats onto my feet, giving the look the final touch.

“Thank you,” I mumble and she nods her head with acknowledgement, before helping me back to the chair and retying my hands. She nods her head at me again and promptly leaves the room without a word.

My mind goes back to Aria and I hope that she’s safe, wherever she is in this building, and that she's not suffering or in pain. I don't know if I would ever be able to forgive myself if she was hurt. She's been through enough in her life and I never wanted her involved in this. 

I slump back in my chair and rest my head on the back of the chair, feeling my eyelids starting to close automatically. I'm so exhausted that I drift away into the darkness, hoping that there's nicer things awaiting me in the dream world.

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