NEW YORK, JUNE 11 2016
Damon Salvatore leaned his shoulder against a lodge pole pine support beam, and squinted his eyes through the dying rays of the New York sun.
In the distance, a blazing sunset flamed the sky to a bright gold. In closer, hanging light bulbs strung around the flagstone patio offered their own riot of colour. It was summer and the heat was suffocating. But as the evening breeze arrived, it did cool down the temperature.
It felt good to have the weekend off work. Damon had always enjoyed spending his time with two of his good friends, Enzo and Alaric. They had known each other for more than ten years. Damon and Enzo were trained in the police cadet at the same time. Alaric was their senior when they first started their job in the police department in Richmond. Five years ago, three of them joined the Drug Enforcement Administration department in New York.
Alaric had been the first to bite the matrimonial dust. Enzo went next. Only Damon retained his free and easy bachelor ways…although hanging on his freedom was getting harder to do in the face of the persistent efforts by the wives of his two friends.
Like Bonnie.
Damon swallowed a groan as he spotted Enzo's wife Bonnie making her way across the patio, another potential candidate in tow. Bonnie had brought a film crew to New York to shoot a commercial ad. Bonnie must have scoured New York to come up with every single, divorced, or otherwise unattached female camera operator or sound manager. This one wasn't bad, Damon conceded, if your tastes ran to rail-thin honey-brown haired woman with size-sixteen egos poured into size-six jeans.
"Hey, Damon."
"Hey, yourself, Bonbon."
Bonnie rolled her eyes while Damon winked at her. Damon had come up with the nickname "Bonbon" since the day Enzo introduced Bonnie to him.
"My husband claims you are a great dancer. You know Enzo. He trips over his own feet on a dance floor."
"Your husband knows whereof he speaks. Want to take a turn?"
"I can't. I sprained my ankle last week and it still hurts if I stand too long. But I went to a few discos with Rose. Trust me, she can make every move known to man."
Somehow, that didn't surprise Damon. But because he genuinely liked the vibrant, dark-haired woman who made his best friend so happy, he didn't say so. Good-naturedly, he smiled at the blonde.
"Care to show me a few of those moves, Rose?"
"Whenever you are ready, handsome."
Feeling smug with the results of her matchmaking, Bonnie watched Damon lead the scriptwriter to the flagstone patio. Viewing his tall, broad-shouldered frame against the last ray of the dying sun made her fingers itch for a camera. Damon possessed a handsomeness that could stop a girl's breath at twenty paces. He was an extremely handsome man with a height of 5'10' and a well-toned body. With striking, intense blue eyes contrasting wonderfully against darkened lashes and eyebrows, a "bad boy" smile, he could be described as relatively athletic, tall, strong, sexy and seductive.
"You are wasting your time."
Bonnie turned at the sound of a soft voice. Alaric had known Damon and Enzo since they finished their training at the police cadet. He was like an older brother to both of them.
"Damon is stubborn when it comes to hanging on to his bachelor ways."
"He can't hold out forever," Bonnie replied with cheerful ruthlessness. "If he is going to fall, I would just as soon he falls for someone I know and like."
Alaric's laughter rippled above the music. "Nobody can change Damon. He's got his life arranged just the way he likes it."
"So I have noticed," Bonnie grumbled, recalling the string of friends and associates she had already paraded past the rakishly handsome DEA agent. "So what's Damon's excuse? He doesn't have any routine at all that I can see. Half the time he is under cover. The other half, he is on the street dodging bullets."
The laughter in Alaric's eyes dimmed. "That's the problem. No women manage to catch him."
"Had Damon ever fallen in love?" Bonnie asked curiously. Her gaze went to the tall, broad-shouldered DEA agent. "I'm sure he would have a girlfriend in the past."
"He did see some women in the past ten years but none of them last long."
"But why? Damon doesn't appear to be a womaniser."
"No, he is definitely not. The one and only time Damon fell in love was ten years ago. We were still working in Richmond at that time."
"Oh, nice!" Bonnie said. "What happened?"
"Damon ended the relationship."
"Why? Why did he end the relationship if he was in love?"
Alaric shrugged. "Damon never mention anything about it."
"Do you know who was the woman?"
"Nope."
"Hmm. Do you think the woman is still in Mystic Falls?" Bonnie asked.
"Maybe."
"Is that the reason Damon hardly go back to Mystic Falls? Because he is afraid he will see her again?"
"Maybe. Who knows?" Alaric looped his arm through Bonnie's. "Come on, let's go and give my wife a hand in the kitchen if you want to have dinner."
Bonnie went with him, casting a last look at the couple moving with languid grace around the roped-off dance area. Damon gave every indication of enjoying the partner who had just stopped short of wrapping herself around him, but Bonnie knew him well enough to recognise the signs. His hormones were engaged, but not his interest.
So much for Rose.
Obviously Damon was still pining for a woman in Mystic Falls.
But she refused to let another strike-out discourage her. Damon had to move on with his life. Maybe she would invite Andie Starr to join them the next time they had a got together. Surely, the dazzling beautiful, up-and-coming news reporter could generate some sparks.
Happily, unaware of Bonnie's plans, Damon managed to shed his clinging partner after two dances and joined Alaric and Enzo at the tin washtub filled with melting ice and beers. He popped a top, and let the beer go down cold and fast.
"Steering Bonnie's friend around the patio hard work?" Alaric ribbed.
"Why don't you try it and find out?"
"No, thanks. If I want to dance, my partner will always be my lovely wife."
Dismissing his friend with a grunt, Damon appealed to Enzo. "What's the odds of your wife running out of candidates any time soon?"
"Pretty slim," Enzo stated with a grin. "She's got more friends and connections than the cops we have in New York."
Damon groaned. "Your wife should be in a match-making business instead of working at the TV station."
Alaric chuckled. "Find yourself a woman and she would stop."
"Alaric is right," Enzo agreed with him. "You need to find yourself a girlfriend, mate."
"I had a girlfriend," Damon said.
"You broke off with Charlotte more than a year ago," Enzo said.
"She wanted out," Damon explained. "I knew I was never going to be the man she had wanted."
"I think it should be the other way around. She was never going to be the woman you had wanted." Alaric laughed scornfully. "The woman you are looking for probably doesn't exist."
"Maybe" Damon replied with a shrug. "It worked out well for Charlotte. Last I heard she is going out with a lawyer. Everyone is happy."
"Including you?" Enzo watched him closely.
"I'm happy," Damon said.
"What about Meredith Fell?" Alaric asked. "What went wrong?"
"Oh, yes. Meredith Fell. The doctor. She is hot." Enzo looked at Damon with interest. "The way she was looking at you…you know. She was interested in you, buddy."
"There was nothing going on between Meredith and I," Damon explained. "I only needed information from her about a case. I haven't talked to her for more than six months. I won't even consider her as a friend. We are just acquaintances."
Enzo shook his head. "Man, you are difficult."
"I'm not difficult," Damon shot back. "I like my life now. What's wrong with being single?"
"There is nothing wrong being single," Alaric said. "As long as you are happy."
"I'm happy," Damon reassured his friends. "I have a great job and the most important of all, I have you guys."
"We are happy as long as you are happy." Alaric lifted his bottle of beer to Damon in a salute.
Damon smiled as he took another pull on his beer. He treasured his friendship with these two men beside him. He always got too caught up in the dark underworld of counter narcotics. But he knew these two would always be on his side, no matter what had happened.
X x x
Two hours later Damon was still awake. Arms folded behind his head, he stared up at the deep shadows on the ceiling of his New York apartment.
It was his birthday next weekend.
Thirty-five.
Damon Salvatore would be thirty-five.
Jesus! Age was creeping up on him. Thirty-five didn't sound terribly old but somehow he felt old. Sometimes he still felt like a kid at heart but a very weary kid.
Maybe he had been alone by himself for too long.
Loneliness had never been a problem before, Damon thought fleetingly. He had been on his own for so long that he had a hard time imagining any other sort of life. He preferred being alone. It was natural for him now. No, being alone had become a way of life and he had been stoically satisfied with his path.
Why the hell had he ever gone into law enforcement? He wondered, not for the first time. Giuseppe had wanted him to stay home and help run the family business in Mystic Falls but Damon had been too rambunctious to remain at home, and too eager to explore the world outside of Mystic Falls. After Giuseppe's death, Zach Salvatore, Giuseppe's youngest brother had taken over the family business. Only Stefan, Damon's younger brother, had returned for good after graduating from the medical school of University of Virginia. Of course, he had had good reason to stay in Mystic Falls because Stefan had been in love with Elena Gilbert for as long as Damon could remember.
Elena Gilbert, the prettiest girl in Mystic Falls. No, correction. Not prettiest. She was the most beautiful girl in Mystic Falls. Elena Gilbert, the cool, attractive brunette, the fashion trendsetter, the high school senior, the girl every boy wanted and every girl wanted to be.
Even after all these years, he still couldn't quite get her out of his mind. But who was he kidding? He had never gotten over Elena Gilbert. He probably would never get over her. Bonnie had been trying to hook him up with various women in the last few years. There would be no other woman on God's green earth who might interest him anymore besides Elena Gilbert.
It was only then, as silence descended and a semblance of superficial peace settled on the room, that Damon allowed himself to think about what he had felt when he made love to her on his twenty fifth birthday. It was so good. So good. Damn it to hell. His body was hardening again just at the thought of it.
No women could make him happy. Except Elena…
And what had he done about that situation?
He had walked away. He left.
He tensed, anticipating the jab of pain that always came with the reminder of how he had let Elena go. His shoulders went stiff, the way they did whenever he thought of her.
"I'm serious, Elena. I can't see you anymore. I don't want to hear your voice, I don't want to talk to you, I don't even want to look at you, and I sure as hell don't want to be your friend," he said. And ten years had passed.
She was never going to leave Stefan. She would stay with him forever. She was wearing Stefan's brand, Damon reminded himself grimly. Stefan had staked a claim to her.
Well, dammit it, Damon couldn't take it anymore.
What would it have been like, he had wondered, if he didn't leave Mystic Falls ten years ago? What if he had pursued her? Would he stand a chance?
x x x
MYSTIC FALLS, OCTOBER 31 2005
"Damn it!" The brunette kicked the flat tyre at the left front end. "Why am I so unlucky?"
"If you do that again," Damon said behind the brunette, "I shall have to report you to the police for being cruel to cars."
The brunette jerk around and saw him strolling towards her.
They stared at each other, two strangers.
Her impression was of a cult superstar who could be easily the idol of his generation. He wore a pair of denims and a dark grey shirt with rolled-up sleeves. He wore sunglasses and his hair was dark brown, almost black.
"It's not funny," she said crossly. But she felt a shiver of excitement. Who was he? She wondered.
Damon stopped about two feet away. "Driving on a flat wreck it."
The brunette casted a wretched eye at the SUV's wheel, wondering how much new tyres would cost. A lot, anyway.
"It's an unfortunate fact of life," Damon said. "That merely gazing dolefully at flat tyres doesn't get them fixed. The usual procedure is to whack the spare out of the boot and whack it on."
"Do you specialise in stating the obvious?"
"Now and then," he mused. "And if you will bear with me, I will do a bit more. Right this minute, two thoughts are going through your head. The first is roughly, 'Oh, sod it, I have never changed a wheel before,' and the second is, roughly, 'This scruffy guy could probably do the honours but this means I have to asked him.'" He added a smile as if to say, "Right?"
He oozed a laid-back confidence that went perfectly with his voice. It was dark and deep and warm as melted chocolate. There was a faint burr, too, which she couldn't quite place, but it made her think of warm, lazy days by the sea.
He was older than the boys in her school. He wasn't a boy anymore. He was a grown-up man. He looked good, she thought. Exciting. Powerful and predatory and wholly in control.
"Wrong," the brunette retorted, pushing a few tendrils of hair from her face. "I know perfectly well how to change a wheel so you might as well just continue your drive on the road."
Damon returned her stare. Not bad. The brunette in front of him was a very beautiful and attractive young woman with an oval face, light olive complexion, almond-shaped brown eyes, and long dark brown hair. He checked out on her body. Slim but definitely acceptable.
Returning to the other side of her SUV, she took the keys out, unlocked the boot and removed the spare and tools. He had been partly right. She had never changed a wheel before, but her father who had not only taught her to drive, but had also gone through the routines of wheels and fan belts with her.
Damon folded his arms across his chest. "Are you sure you can change a wheel by yourself, sweetheart?"
"Don't call me that," she whispered furiously.
"Okay, honey. What should I call you?"
She glared at him. "I don't need your help. Please go away."
But Damon did not walk away. He sat back on the verge, leaning on his elbows with the general air of a man about to enjoy a good laugh. "Got the handbrake on?" he enquired.
She didn't even bother replying. Did he think she was completely clueless?
"The thing is, just because you can do something doesn't mean you have to," Damon said casually. "All you have to do is ask. I'm willing to help. I'm easy like that."
She continued to ignore him.
"My name's Damon, by the way."
"I don't have time to chat," she said.
She was doing her best to ignore him, but it wasn't easy, since he was only two feet away and obviously watching her every move behind those sunglasses.
Just ignore him, she told herself firmly.
Everything was ready. Spare, instructions, jack, spanner. First you levered the hubcap off, then you loosened the nuts, then you jacked it up and took the flat wheel off, then you put the spare on and did everything in reverse.
Easier said than done.
Her best friend, Caroline Forbes wouldn't be changing wheels in the first place. She wouldn't even have considered changing wheels. She would have given him a dazzling smile before he had uttered one word and said, "Oh, gosh, I suppose you couldn't possible help me, could you?" And she would have sat back instead of getting all hot and bothered. She could have possibly given him a kiss when he had finished.
Forget Caroline, and get spannering.
Levering the hubcap off was such a piece of cake, her confidence soared.
Loosen the nuts before jacking up. This was less cakey, but no big deal. With a bit of effort, the first three gave way quite easily.
It was the fourth that defeated her. No matter how she heaved and grunted, it refused to budge.
Damon was really enjoying himself now. With a grin on his face, he issued helpful advice. "Probably just needs a good squirt of lubricant. Got a can of lubricant in the boot?"
"Shut up!" She heaved and grunted some more.
"Get down a bit more," he advised. "Really put that little back into it."
She got down a bit further and put every ounce of strength into it. The nuts still wouldn't shift.
"Seized-up nuts can be a trifle stubborn," Damon remarked. "Sometimes the heads snap off and then you are really up the proverbial creek."
That did it. Red-faced with exertion and fury, the brunette straightened up and approached him, brandishing the spanner. "How would you like your nuts snapped off, you pain-in-the-neck…"
With a swift, fluid movement Damon rose to his feet. "Oh, give it to me," he said, with infuriating male tolerance, taking the spanner from her hand.
God, it was so galling to see the easy, confident way he applied spanner to nut, expecting it to shift with only a modicum of his massive strength.
Except that it didn't.
Being only human, she enjoyed a silent but sweetly triumphant laugh as a frown appeared on his brow. However, the gloat-impulse quickly died. He tried again, with more show of effort this tie, and failed again.
"Hmm," he frowned, straightening up. "It would seem that we are in a stuck-nut situation."
"You can't shift it, you mean," the brunette said primly. "After you thought it would be such an easy task."
As she had fully expected, he rose to this. "I was hardly giving it all I have got. If you want me to force it and possibly snap the head off, I will."
"Then what would I do?"
"I can give you a lift." He motioned toward the blue Camaro parked about six feet away. "I'm heading to town anyway."
The brunette lifted her gaze to him. An uneasy chill prickled her spine. Could she trust him? He could be absolutely anybody.
"Don't trust me?" he mocked. Then his white teeth flashed in a grin that was pure, rogue male. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm a cop."
Her brown eyes searched his face. "Do you have some identification?"
He blinked. "You think I'm lying?"
Her chin came up. "Are you?"
Digging into his back pocket, he pulled out a black leather case. A single flip displayed his photo ID and gold badge with its blue enamel shield, surmounted by an open-winged gold eagle.
"You believe me now?" he sneered. Flipping the leather case shut, he slid it into his back pocket. "You want to get into my car?"
"I can't leave my car here," she said. Her voice sounded desperate. "Give it all you have got, then. Please. Get the nut out."
He got stuck in again, and this time she really thought it was going to snap. His muscles bulged under his shirt and his face positively contorted with effort. And suddenly, the nut gave up the unequal struggle.
"Phew," Damon breathed, straightening up. "Stubborn little devil. Almost as stubborn as you."
He bent down again and began fitting the jack.
"No!" she said hastily, as he glanced up. "I want to do it myself. I have never done it before and I would rather know."
He straightened up and gazed down at her. "I knew you hadn't."
"But my father showed me. So if you will kindly shift yourself…"
He stood back and managed to refrain from giving advice, restricting himself to holding the nuts.
When it was done, she was hotter and sweatier than she had been in years, despite it was late autumn now. Her hands were filthy and her hair was messy.
"You can go now," she said shortly, after loading everything back into the boot.
"Your face needs a lick," Damon said with amusement. "You have wiped your mucky little mitts on your face."
A glance in the side mirror told her he was right. There were smudges on her nose and cheeks.
Oh, God! She mentally groaned. Then she saw him pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket. Fascinated, like one hypnotised, she watched him approach her and reach out to grasp her chin in his fingers.
He tilted her head back so he could see what he was doing as he applied the handkerchief to the smudges on her nose and cheeks. He went about his job absorbedly, unemotionally, but she was finding it difficult to breathe. His whole presence was overwhelming, suffocating. The fingers on her jaw were strong, but gentle.
"There you go." He smiled beguilingly as he moved his fingers away. "No more dirty face."
"Thank…thank you," she stammered. What was the matter with her?
"You are welcome. I'm Damon," he said. "As you may have gathered."
"I'm Elena."
"Nice to meet you, Elena." He removed his sunglasses.
Elena's heart gave a violent twist. He was extraordinarily attractive. She was certain women drooled over him.
His eyes were blue, but not light blue. It was an intriguing mixture of pale blue and metallic grey, rimmed with the kind of thick dark lashes no wretched man had a right to and glinting with something wild and sweet and wicked…
"Are you from Mystic Falls?" he asked.
"What?" she asked, momentarily distracted by his question.
Damon gave her an amused look. "I ask, are you from Mystic Falls?"
"No, I…I used to live in Richmond. I move to Mystic Falls a year ago," Elena replied.
He nodded, the movement a mere dip of his head.
"Are you on holiday?" she asked.
"More or less. I'm going to catch up with someone I haven't seen in ages."
"Girlfriend?" she blurted out. Did she really say that?
His mouth kicked up in a half a grin. "Someone important."
"Oh."
"My brother. I haven't seen him for more than a year," he added, as if reading her thoughts. "After finishing my degree in Washington DC, I had joined the police department three years ago. You know how busy the life of a cop can be," he chuckled. "We are always on the streets dodging bullets."
She swallowed a giggle. Three years in university and three years working as a cop would make him twenty-four-ish – more or less what she would thought. "What makes you decide to become a cop?"
"Challenge. I like challenge." He kept his eyes locked with hers. "I don't give up easily."
She cleared her throat. "Aren't your parents worried about you? I mean…your job is dangerous."
"My dad died a few years ago. Mum died when I was ten."
"I'm sorry," Elena said, apologising for talking about his parents. "I didn't know your parents…"
"Don't be," he said with a lazy grin. "I still have a brother and an uncle. I'm not alone."
"They are happy with your decision?"
"They are supportive," he said. "But I don't really care what others think. I have wanted to be a cop since young. I enjoy being a cop. And nothing is going to stop me."
It was astonishing to Elena that someone could be so determined to go after one's dream. He reminded her of her father. Her father was a phenomenal doctor, always trying to help the people who truly needed medical care but couldn't afford it.
"What does your girlfriend think about your chosen profession?" she asked curiously.
He slid her an amused glance. "There isn't a girlfriend, if that's what you are asking."
It was, but Elena saw no reason to say so.
"But if there was," he continued with a careless shrug, "she had to accept my job because I'm not going to give it up."
"Huh, uh."
His eyes narrowed. "You have a problem with that?"
"No," she assured him. "Not really."
"What about you? What are you doing here in the middle of nowhere?" he asked. "Surely your boyfriend would be worried about you talking to a strange man. He should look after you, shouldn't he?"
"I dropped my mum to her friend's house. Dad is busy today and I need to use the car," she explained. "I am perfectly capable of looking after myself. I'm not a kid. I don't need a boyfriend or a guardian angel."
"Sure," he said, flashing another heart-stopping grin. "You do know how to look after yourself. I can see that from the way you changed the tyre just now."
Elena flushed hotly from embarrassment and anger. Damon, was still looking at her with that annoying, amused grin, and she lashed out at him. "It was my first time to change a flat tyre."
"And you did it," he said softly. "By yourself."
She swallowed hard. She was still trying to recover from that dazzling combination of white teeth, blue eyes and uncensored male when he pointed toward the sky.
"I think we better get going. The heavy clouds are moving in fast. The storm will hit soon."
Elena glanced at her watch. "Jesus, I didn't realise it is so late. I have to pick up aunt Jenna…" She wrenched the door open and got into the car. She paused and looked at him through the open door. "I hope you will have a good time with your brother."
He grabbed the door before she could close it. "You think we will see each other again?" Reaching out, he laid his fingertips against her smooth cheek.
She looked up at him. She couldn't think. Her brain had been swept clean when he was close to her.
He studied her intently before a grin tugged at his lips. "Goodbye, Elena." He shut her door and got into his blue Camaro.
Her heart was still racing erratically as she watched him drive away. Damon was dangerous and she knew it.