Hunger (Damnation Book 1)

Chapter 22 - A Lesson Never Learned

Daddy still has so many people in the house getting things ready. I pop my head into his office to find him standing by the fireplace, staring into the fire. I see the flickering of the flames reflecting in his eyes and I wonder what he's actually seeing. There is no doubt in my mind he doesn't see the same things we do. He is still a fallen angel after all. I've always wondered how he knows what's going on down in the pits when he is always here on Earth. There's got to be a system set up somewhere, somehow.

"Daddy?" I ask trying not to startle him.

He looks up at me and gives a sad smile. "Yes, Rosaline?"

"Can I talk to you for a second?" I inquire.

He motions for me to enter and I close the door behind me. Sitting in the chair across from his desk and I wait for him to sit before I continue. "Am I going to have to work at the Backbone again?"

"Do you not want to?" he asks back. His face is mostly blank with a slightly curious stare. Damn, Daddy. His answering questions with questions just kills me. It's so hard to read him when he does that. I suppose that's what makes him the devil. He's supposed to be the one reading people and making the deals. He should be better than me at that.

"Not exactly," I start. "I just want to know what you want me to do now that I'm home."

He pauses for a moment and asks, "Do you feel completely ready to begin your work again?"

I nod even though it's a lie. "I'm already working on a new soul for you. I almost had him before I left last year and he's still hooked. By your party, he'll be ours."

Daddy looks at me with a peculiar look in his eyes. I don't know what he's seeing and that worries me. Looking down, I try to see if I have any stains or make-up on my clothing. Nope. I'm well put together right now. What is he looking at?

"If you feel you are ready, schedule a spa day. You need to be at your best for the party. We will reintroduce you then. Until then, if you can get that soul, fine. If not, don't hurry it."

Nodding, I get up and leave. Randall is my ticket back into this world. He is my challenge and my task. I will make it back into my family. Do I care about sending his ass to hell in a hand basket? No, he's a sleezeball. He was paying for sex when he was seventeen when he could get tail all over our school. That is a level of pathetic very few know and I need to get back to normal. Well, as normal as I can get when I care about absolutely nothing and the cost is his soul.

In my room, I decide to go through my closets. Things are going to fit differently with my new weight and size and I'm sure I'll need to make adjustments. I'm certainly not going to gain it back. I like my new physique. I throw a good number of jeans and shirts out of my every day closet. Quickly, I call my favorite boutique on Decatur Street and place an order. I love being a preferred customer. Their delivery service is great. Then, I decide to play dress up. I have to find the perfect dress for the party.

My entire second closet is reserved for my party clothes. From parties on the bayou to these lavish formal parties, I'm never without a proper outfit. I even have a wall of shelves in the back for all my shoes. Getting all dolled up for events and parties always made me happy. I miss it. Maybe if I pretend long enough the emotions will come back.

Going through my closet, there are new things; lots of new things. As in clothes I've never seen before and still have the tags on them new. Who bought me new clothes? No one buys me clothes, I'm way too picky about what goes on this body.

Walking out of my closet, I head over to Gil's room down the hall. "Hey, Gil? Did you buy me new clothes while I was gone?" I ask poking my head around the door.

He gives me a small smile and puts his book down next to him. I swear he is always reading something. "You finally went in there, huh?" Walking over and joining him on his bed, I quietly wait for him to continue. "Dad stopped looking. He gave up. I knew you were still alive. Somehow, I think I would know if you were dead. Plus, Gabriel was far too happy for you to be dead. You always wear good looking things. I knew you'd be unhappy when you came back if you had to wear all those old clothes. Father wouldn't let me buy everyday things, but at least you have some nice, new dresses."

I don't know what to say. Gil's always loved me, and it's loyal of him to keep searching after everyone else gave up, but now I'm at a loss for words. What do you say to that?

"Gilly," I whisper, calling him by his childhood nickname. "Thanks for not giving up on me."

"Never, Rosie."

I get up and walk to his door. "I'm not the only one that bought stuff."

His words make me stop. Not the only one to buy stuff? "What?" I ask.

"Michael brought all sorts of stuff for you. He spent a lot of time on your balcony, though I'm not sure why."

"Especially since he told everyone he didn't love me," I mutter, plucking at a loose thread on my shirt.

He gives a wry smile. "I'm pretty sure he still does."

I don't say anything else. In all honesty, I don't know what to say. So, instead, I give my brother the first actual hug in years and head back to my own room full of stuff that doesn't feel like mine anymore. Looking around, I see a bunch of little things I've overlooked since I got home; not that I've been very observant for the last couple of weeks. Having survived on so little for so long all of my belongings here feel like junk. There is a picture of Michael and me on the bedside table. It's of our day in the Quarter. He wasn't an angel and I wasn't a spawn of the devil. It's actually kind of sweet. There are sweet little teddy bears and stuffed animals in the corner. That's Michael's doing. Gil would never buy me something stuffed and fluffy. He knows me better than that. The only thing that I like in my room that's fluffy is my bed.

With a deep breath, I gather all the fluffy things and throw them in my garbage can. I don't want them. I keep the dresses and nice things. Gil has good taste, but anything Michael has given me has to go. I don't want to look at them. They will only remind me of the pain I've been through with him. I go to and pick up the picture. I want to throw it away as well, but as I look at it, I just can't. We both look so happy in it. Those worry lines he gets when he is mad or frustrated are gone. His smile is so wide, his teeth are practically blinding. There is a twinkle in his eye that I haven't seen focused on me in a very long time, not that I've seen him much. But even I look happy and I'm never happy. Softly, I put it away in the drawer. Maybe one day I will be able to throw it out but not yet.