Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended.
Beta'd by HollettLA.
Ahhh, how many more of you will flounce after this chapter? LOL.
Thank you all for reading, regardless of if you decide to stick it out or bounce. A few of these chapters are already written. And at the end of the day, I write for me, and I dig it so there we go . . .
Thanks for giving it a try, although . . . if you stop reading before chapter 26...? The story picks up again as we wrap this semi-Sonny arc. Maggie and Sonny are but a small fraction of this story as a whole. Whatever. Also, I'm going back to posting once weekly because I've taken a break from writing. Therefore, if I continue to update and update, I'll run out of chapters to post, and then I won't know when I'll be updating.
Please enjoy!
Riders on the Storm
Chapter Twenty-Two: Lies
Damion POV
Once again, I found myself at Eclipse. I remember a time when I'd trip over myself to get here—have a drink and watch the ladies—but now…? The tits are tired, the music sucks, and the same assholes are always here.
Since Sonny is one of Dad's main guys, we're waiting for him. He's a half-hour late, and although I haven't spoken to him in a month, my father's had me call him three times. It was stupid, and I told Dad that Sonny wouldn't answer my calls.
It baffles me that we're waiting on Sonny. He's my brother, but what was to be discussed doesn't concern him at all. There wouldn't be a sit-down if I wasn't now involved—moving my way up. It's something about my rank—since I don't rank but am involved—and the fact that I plan to ask Luke Drasso's daughter to marry me. Apparently, no matter who my father is, Luke can deny me based on my status alone.
Amelia is twenty-one years old. Why do I need to ask her father permission? It makes no fucking sense. It's old school. Dad says it's business, and I needed to stop drinking . . . I should have stopped three beers ago.
This place is like a casino—sucks you in and fucks with your head. It could be noon, and Eclipse is dark—like it's nighttime. You fool yourself into believing it is . . . only to get fucked when you walk out into the light of day.
I won't lie. It's nice to be sitting at the adults' table instead of toward the back with a bunch of Neanderthals.
I fucking hate them all.
They're two-bit thugs, criminals, and they have no finesse with a fucking thing. Amongst them, there are no discussions either. It's like I'm chillin' with a bunch of Joes—if you can imagine.
Conversations carried on as they had before. My father, Aro, Carlisle, and Luke all shot the shit—spoke about their families, their health, and blah, blah. Nevertheless, only I knew how pissed Dad was that Sonny was late.
When my brother finally came strolling in—wearing a smile, his hair sort of fucked up along with his clothes—it didn't take a genius to figure out why he was late.
He fucked her.
He's been fucking her.
He'll probably destroy her—get her pregnant so he can always have access to her, do some shady shit.
He put his cock in Maggie, broke her cherry . . . Something I'd wanted to do very badly. Fuck. Truthfully, I just wanted to be her first kiss. I didn't know what it was about her. Or, what it was about myself—how I could be head over heels in love with Amelia—completely devoted—and yet I had this overwhelming desire for Maggie.
It's kind of like my love for medicine and my ability to kill a motherfucker without thinking twice.
If I couldn't make heads or tails of that, I definitely can't figure out what my deal was with Maggie—why I wanted her. And I didn't even know I wanted her in that way until I saw her on Halloween. I didn't know what the draw to her was before that, and then I just knew . . .
And the more I think about Maggie, the more detached I get with Amelia, the more hate I have for Sonny.
I either wanted Maggie to be left alone—neither one of us could have her, or by some twist of fate, she was with me.
He fucked her.
He claimed her.
And that shit makes me sick to my stomach.
Thinking logically, Amelia is a better fit for Sonny anyway. She truly is, and Maggie . . . She'd do anything I said. She'd be mine. We clicked—had a sparkle, a flame I tried to ignore.
I love Amelia.
I want to fuck Maggie.
And the more I think about fucking Maggie, the more I'm not sure if I love Amelia.
No, I tried to stay away and succeeded.
The night Maggie ran out of the yard . . . I met Amelia. I put my all—everything I had—into my relationship. Then, when Kylie started hanging out with Maggie, I stopped coming by the house—to keep myself off Temptation's Way.
Now she's staying there, so I definitely don't go over there.
Halloween night, I didn't want any trouble. Amelia was pissed, acting out because Maggie was looking at me. Truth be told, I loved the attention. But Amelia had to calm her tits. I thought Sonny could keep her occupied. It'd be a joke—giant, nearly thirty Sonny could spend time with Maggie, petite, pretty, young thing with the gorgeous smile and big innocent eyes.
But, by the time we'd entered the limos, he was looking at her differently. She had his attention, and I hadn't seen my brother smile like that in ages. It freaked me out.
He was supposed to work shit out with Katie.
He was supposed to flirt a little, and then never see her again.
He didn't do any of that.
But what did I hope to happen? No, as much as it makes me a dog—as much as it makes me a piece-of-shit—I wanted them both: Amelia and Maggie.
Of course, I hate myself for it. Other than Maggie, I don't look or even see anyone else but Amelia.
But Maggie is Maggie, and the fact that Sonny fucked her . . . it takes away some of her appeal, not all of it, though.
And when I finally had her attention again . . . When we were able to talk while Sonny was speaking to Aro, she wasn't looking at me the way she had been.
She actually wished me the best with Amelia—said she was happy for me, that I found love and was so in love.
And I didn't get the chance to say much else.
"Glad you could join us," Dad said.
"Sorry." Sonny snapped his fingers for a waitress, his eyes barely registering my presence. "Maggie had a doctor's appointment…" Was his lame excuse. Him saying her name made my stomach roll with nausea.
"Oh…I thought you didn't go to those. Well, at least when it concerns your kid," Aro said. "Cramps your style or somethin'."
"Enough." Dad was fast to squash that shit. "Is she okay?" I was glad—elated, over the moon, that Dad asked him. Curiosity would have eaten me alive.
"She's fine." Sonny nodded, smiling and pushing his hair back. "Luke…nice to see you." He reached over to shake his hand.
"It's nice to see you, too." Luke smiled. "Now…can someone finally tell me why I'm here?" He widened his arms. "I know there's no beef..." His gaze briefly flashed to mine. He likely already knew.
"Well…" Dad patted his back. He told me he'd be speaking for me because that's the way shit goes, what's proper. After we get married, she'd be a part of our family, and Dad's the head of the family . . . I'd be a part of Luke's family, too, and they better give me that money because Amelia's high-maintenance. "Damion—my son—would like to ask for Amelia's hand."
"Oh, fuck. I'm getting old," Luke laughed, holding his head, and everyone else at the table chuckled along with him. "Yes…he—you have my blessing." It was refreshing that he turned to shake my hand, spoke to me, instead of about me.
"Thank you," I said.
Luke was all smiles. "Gentlemen, please excuse me, but I'd like to call my wife—if that's cool. We can get down to business when I get back."
Dad gestured it was cool, and Luke left the table.
"You're really sure?" My father asked me for the millionth time. He'd asked me a bunch of times earlier.
"Yes." I nodded. "She's the one." But I wasn't dead-on-balls-certain.
"Okay." He held my shoulder and then shook me. "My baby's getting married!" He grabbed my face and landed a huge, loud wet one on my cheek.
It made me laugh. He hasn't done that since I was a little kid.
"I'm glad it's out in the open. Now, all you have to do is ask her, so Mom can go nuts," Dad whispered in my ear. "You should do it on Thanksgiving—"
"In front of everyone?" I asked.
"Why not?" He shrugged, leaning away. "Sonny's having a baby, and my Damion's getting married…Jesus. I am getting old."
"When do you plan to pop the question?" Carlisle faced Sonny.
His eyes widened and he paused, stopped sipping from his scotch. "I, uh—"
"Oh…he probably doesn't know which one you're referring to," Aro said. "I'll clarify . . . my daughter doesn't want this mamaluke."
"You got somethin' you wanna talk to me about?" Sonny asked. "You got somethin' you wanna say?"
Aro shook his head, staring down to his drink.
"It didn't work out. I make no apologies for how shit did work out. I tried my best." Sonny let out a growl.
"Yo…lemme talk to you a minute." Dad grabbed Aro's shoulder, and then they both walked away from the table.
Carlisle watched them go with a raised eyebrow. "Seriously . . . I heard things are going well with Maggie. Alex is thinking about hiring her as a baby-sitter. Maggie and Kylie can—"
"Don't. I don't want her working."
I turned to stare at that motherfucker.
"She's moving in with me . . . tomorrow, and things are fantastic." Sonny chuckled. "Unc, I swear to Christ…shit is just…it's amazing."
"I'm happy for you," Carlisle said.
And the both of them . . .
"Now if you and Dame made up, things would be perfect all around." Carlisle twirled a finger.
I didn't say shit.
Neither did Sonny.
I think he knows . . . how I feel, the protectiveness, along with the desires I have.
"I want her to focus on school." Sonny went back to the previous subject. "I don't want her to feel that since she's living with me, she has to pay bills or some shit. She doesn't have to do anything—"
"Because she's your plaything." I couldn't keep that bottled in. "She'll move in…go to school, but otherwise she'll just sit around waiting to get fucked. And when the baby's born, you'll have a live-in baby-sitter. And you, you can just carry on, do what the fuck you want." I was surprised he let me finish.
"Don't pay him any attention," he told our uncle. "He's just upset that the chick he handpicked to be his goomah might be my wife."
I bit my tongue.
What could I say? He was right on the fucking money.
I hated him even more.
"Fuck." Carlisle sipped his drink. "I've been there before." He toasted to me. "Best you get that shit out of your head as fast as possible."
"Damion, you better listen to our uncle." Sonny placed his hand on Carlisle's shoulder. "She may not be my wife at the present moment, but she will be. You will respect her as if she is, and keep your fucking hands, eyes, and cock away from her. Ha!" He laughed, but I could see he was truly pissed. "I don't even want you talkin' to her. At family gatherings, be cordial, say hello, but fuck—I'd tear you limb from motherfuckin' limb." He meant that shit, too.
"Dame," Carlisle leaned across the table to keep his voice hushed, "having a mistress is a nasty business. If you're not 100% sure about Amelia—"
"I am," I said. "It's not a role I plan to have filled . . . it was a role Maggie could have filled . . . But not really. I just—I really, really wanted to fuck her—give it to her good one time." I punched the air.
Sonny slammed his fist down onto the table. "Keep her name out your fuckin' mouth, too, you piece-of-shit!"
I was going to reply, but Luke came back to the table.
"Dude, Aro and Edward are in the office." Carlisle pointed. "You guys can speak and split spoils in there." There was also business to be handled tonight—shit that didn't concern my uncle, Sonny, or me—well, maybe Sonny, but he made no move to leave the table.
"Good shit." Luke grabbed his drink. "My son-in-law." He shook me before he left again.
I laughed, guzzling back my beer, but I didn't speak until Luke disappeared.
"Don't say anything." Sonny pointed at me. "Don't fucking test me, Damion. I love her, but if you don't love Amelia . . . fucking let her go, man . . . In all seriousness, bro. You have no business getting married."
"He's right." Carlisle pointed to him.
"I do love her." I smiled. "I love her very much—so much it fucks with my head. But…in all honesty…sometimes, I wanna fuck Maggie so much—that shit fucks with my head, too." I shrugged. "You wanted to be honest…"
Chillin' with Dad, I was growing accustomed to telling the truth. Sometimes, the truth is more shocking than any lie. And why fucking lie? I didn't fear Sonny, or anyone else.
Sonny finished his drink, his hand shaking. He was trying not to fly across the table at me, and I loved it—that I got that much of a reaction out of him, with the truth no less. "I'll be in the office." He slammed his glass down so hard, I was surprised it didn't break. "All you need to know…" He stared at me. "Touch her and you're dead. That's it. Just keep that shit in your mind. Every time you see her, I want you to think of this, and only this: if you touch her you're dead." He left the table.
"What's so special about this li'l broad?" Carlisle asked. "I've seen her...She's cute...all right, attractive, I guess."
"Well, she was a virgin…"
"Oh…I can see the appeal there." He nodded.
I pursed my lips, lifting my head and leaning back. "You can go join them. I'm used to sitting around. I have my books behind the bar." That's the only good thing. I can actually get some studying done.
"It's cool. You've spurred my curiosity." He chuckled. "The fact that you want this chick…it doesn't make you a bad person. If you make a play for your brother's girl—yeah, that shit's fucked up. You're not going to, right?"
I raised a brow. "It didn't stop me from making a play for yours." My words were slow, and I didn't know why I said them. But with being honest . . . It just flew out. I blurted that shit, and I did wish I could take it back, internally wincing.
There's no rewind button for life and all that . . .
"Excuse me?" Carlisle tilted his head, previous amusement gone.
"There was a short period of time when I thought I was in love with Alex." I watched him—watched the vein in his forehead throb away, and I bet his blood pressure hit the roof. His face remained kind of stoic, though, which was odd. "Nothing physical happened." I was quick to add. "Just thought you should know."
Carlisle smiled, he was just fucking smiling. "You're just fucking with me? I mean, you have to be."
"If…okay." I nodded. "Yeah, I was fucking with you."
"Come on, Dame…you gotta death wish or somethin'?" He shook his head. "You can't fuck with people like that."
"No." I grinned. "I am Death. That's the common misconception around here. Everyone handing out death threats . . . idle threats." I shrugged, my mind spiraling, misfiring, whirring about hundred different things.
"What?" he asked.
I finished my beer. "I'm tired of being my father's asshole. I'll see you around." Without another word to him or anyone else, I grabbed my books and then left Eclipse.
Amelia sent me a text when I had a foot out the door. She was in the city, knew her father was here, and she wanted to know if I'd join them for a late dinner.
I declined, telling her I needed to see my mother. It had been a while.
Regardless, Amelia didn't like that. She wanted to see me. It had been days. So, I told her to blow off her father and head to the dorms. Ethan had some shit to do—he wouldn't be there—but I would be there later. Amelia has a copy of the key. Someone just has to let her into the building, and there are usually people chillin' on the steps. She demanded a key, and I didn't care. I don't know if she always came to Manhattan this often, but she does now—to shop, have dinner, to see me—seek me out and stalk me.
It's cute.
She'll wait for me.
If she couldn't accept the answer I had given her, she could accept the second one—waiting for me, because I didn't know what else to tell her.
She said she bought me new sheets and a comforter and was excited to straighten up and redecorate my side of the room.
It made me grin, and I loved that idea—that she wanted to take care of me. But I was sure that by the end of this semester, I'd buy us a house.
It's disappointing, though. One of the things I love most about her is her mind. She's intelligent and educated, and I was more than certain that she'd make an excellent physician. She had the same drive I did when it came to studying, school in general.
But with getting closer . . .
It's been just over two months. I know getting engaged was moving a bit fast, yet she mentioned it too.
Once we get married, she wants to drop out of school. She wants babies and for us to be this…domesticated thing.
When she brought that shit up, I squashed it—wondering if this was her decision, or something her parents put in her head. She said that, no, it was her choice—she wants to have my babies.
I don't even know if I like kids, let alone fucking having one.
I'm twenty-four years old.
Although I love her and want to marry her—definitely before I start my residency—I'm not ready to make those other heavy decisions yet.
Once again, I told Amelia to calm her tits. I'm not totally against the kid thing, but she needs to understand a few things that . . . she clearly cannot comprehend or chooses not to at the present time.
We're getting, possibly, six million dollars, plus any monies from other family members. Dad said he'd throw in a house, too, which is all wonderful.
But I have a year and half of med school left. Then, after that, I'll be doing my residency for however many years, depending on what specialty I'll choose. They pay residents, but it's chump change. My salary won't keep Amelia in shoes, let alone be enough for us to live on.
We'll have to save. We'll have to live…basically, the same way we have been, only . . . Amelia will have to say goodbye to Daddy's credit cards, his money. She'll end up ruining, or not, depending on some shit, my credit score.
Maybe Sonny and Dad have an unlimited cash flow, they can fool around and do whatever, but I don't.
I'm not greedy, stingy, or cheap, but we can't just blow all the money they're giving us on bullshit items—to live in the lap of luxury.
But it's hard…not giving Amelia what she wants when she wants it. She gives me the eyes, massages my shoulders, and blows me.
While in the subway, catching the R train to Bay Ridge, I got to thinking more about Amelia—not my dislikes—and then I regretted hopping on the train…
She makes everything go away. I don't think about anything when we're together except us—how much I love her, how much I miss her when she's not around, wanting to utilize every moment we have together.
Maggie? She doesn't exist while Amelia is around. It's when she's gone that my mind travels elsewhere.
And . . . we're apart more than when we're together.
By the time I got to Bay Ridge—it was truly perfect timing—my mother, sister, and Maggie were entering the house, just home from the salon.
Kylie teased me, Maggie ignored me, and my mother embraced me.
Mom was fast to heat me up some leftovers from the night before. We made small talk. Dad had already sent her a text, telling her about the sit-down, and we planned to go get Amelia a ring this weekend. She said my father's jewelry guy—the one I got Julie's ring from—might exchange it, and then I'd only have to pay the difference.
Julie's ring was huge, but I was marrying a mafia princess. Her ring had to be bigger. I didn't give a fuck. I still had loads of cash in the bank from my only and actual contract—the one time I got paid beaucoup dollars to take someone out. The rest were just fuckers Sonny or Dad needed bumped off.
"This was great—thanks." I wiped my mouth with a napkin. Mom made pork chops yesterday, and they were just as delicious today.
"You're welcome." She smiled sadly.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"You confuse me," she whispered.
"I confuse me, too." It was the truth.
She tossed her hair over her shoulder, letting out a large breath. "My day wasn't that long, but I'm tired."
"Go relax."
"I'm glad you're here. I haven't seen you in a while…but I don't see a laundry bag either, and it's the middle of the week… Why'd you come home?" she asked.
I shrugged. "Like you said, I haven't seen you in a while. I thought we'd hang out."
She nodded. "I'll go get changed. I have a phone call to make—gotta call Elena." She was genuinely smiling again. "Then we'll watch a movie? I'd like to talk to you." Mom squeezed my hand. "We need to…I don't know."
"We can do whatever you want—you can pick my brain about all things Amelia," I laughed. "I have pre-rounds tomorrow, so…I can't stay that late." It was going on ten now, and Amelia was already at the dorm. She'd texted me while I was eating. "I should leave by midnight—I can catch a few hours of sleep."
"It's cool. No movie then. We'll only have that chat." Mom patted my hand and then left the table.
From the kitchen, I was able to hear the giggles coming from my sister's room. Cautious and quiet, I snuck down the hall to eavesdrop—'cause I'm a fuck like that. Her door was slightly ajar. It always is when Dad's not home. I made sure to keep my back to the hall wall.
"You guys did it on the table?" Kylie asked. "Now that's what I call a happy meal." She snorted, and I rolled my eyes. The table? Nice.
"Well, we didn't have time…to do anything else." Maggie's voice made me jump internally for some reason.
"Did his dick feel bigger? Like, because you were sitting?"
"I was laying and…he's pretty damn big, I think. I don't really know sizes."
"Eh…you've seen one, you've seen them all . . . or is that tits?" Kylie was very wrong on both accounts. "Have you guys done anal yet? That's something I'd like to explore."
"No way!" Maggie shouted. "I mean, I've never thought about it."
"You never think about a lot of things," Kylie giggled. "But you know . . . Miss Maggie Pants."
"No, really. The butt thing? I don't know. If he wanted to…I want him to be happy and stuff," she laughed.
"You make Sonny happy by just breathing. He's head over heels for you." Kylie's voice was getting louder, but she never opened or closed the door. "Isn't he the best guy ever, though?"
I couldn't believe that Kylie held Sonny with such high regard. He's just Sonny—always angry, always tough as nails, always shooting off at the mouth, he's mostly always a prick, and he always gets what he wants without even trying hard.
"I think so. Gosh…Kylie, I love him." Maggie squealed. "He's got the best heart. He cares—like actually tries to take care of me, worries if I haven't eaten—he's just considerate and crazy kind, always wondering if I need anything, and all I need is him," she sighed, and I wondered what act my brother was putting on. "We went to confession the other day—"
"You got Sonny to go to church?" Kylie guffawed. "That's what I call pussy whipped."
"He wanted to come with me. I was just—I was feeling guilty about some things—things that have been ingrained in my head since I was little. I won't bore you with my sins this time, although I'm sure you can guess. He wouldn't confess—says God might not hear him. He just—he doesn't see himself, he doesn't give himself enough credit, that he's wonderful and sweet—a good, a good person." She sounded like she was crying.
"No need for that."
"They're happy tears," Maggie said. "I feel incredibly lucky…to have found my soul mate so young in life." Yeah, she was definitely crying.
"Don't cry…" Now Kylie sounded emotional. "Tell me something happy—more about the table," she laughed.
"He's, like, the hottest guy I've ever seen—like ever. His muscles, his face, his—"
"I can talk about your Sonny Sex, but—" Kylie gagged "—don't talk about his peen…in great detail. To me, Sonny and Damion are like Ken dolls. They don't have penises, but you wanted both their peens."
"No, I had a crush." Her tone was hushed, but I still heard her. "I was feeling with my eyes, and now I see with my heart. I don't know. It probably sounds dumb to you, but it makes sense to me. Santino and Damion are two completely different people—I don't know Damion, though. I can guess."
She was absolutely correct. Sonny and I aren't similar at all. But how can Sonny be the best-looking guy she's ever seen, if she was hung up on me first and not my brother? Maggie told me I was the prettiest guy she'd ever seen. I remember that.
"Do you feel weird that Damion is here?"
"A little…He just, he looks at me weird."
"Damion is weird."
"I thought I liked him, but . . . now he's scary? I can't explain it."
Maggie really thinks I'm scary? I never gave her a reason to be scared, but now she can "see" with her heart, whatever the fuck that means. She's the weirdo—an irresistible one at that, but yeah.
"He's just a goober. Are you texting Sonny?"
"Yeah…even his texts are dirty." Maggie let out a squeal. "The language that comes from his mouth sometimes…"
"Ohhh. Lemme see." Kylie sounded excited, and then she gasped. "I'm gonna make you scream my name? That's not very original or dirty. Lemme send him one."
"No, don't—"
"Yes, let's drive him crazy. How about . . . I want you to handcuff me to the bed, so you can fuck me over and over and over. Leave me food and water, and I'll be your sex slave. Just don't feed me after midnight." She said it slow, as if she was typing, and then cackled.
"I'm not a Gremlin!" Maggie shouted.
"My mom's good at writing dirty messages. You should see the ones she writes to my dad. They border on gross." A phone dinged. "What'd he say?"
"He said, 'I've already done that. Tomorrow night, we're celebrating, and I'll be in the cuffs'," Maggie laughed. "He's gonna let me handcuff him? What will I do?"
That lucky bastard. I don't think I'd ever let anyone cuff me to anything. Fuck that shit. I can get down with the reversal of that role, though. Then I briefly wondered if Amelia would let me tie her up. That might be hot . . . dole out some pain while pleasuring her.
"Pork him. Ride him like a fucking pony, girl."
"I'm not, um, I'm not that good at being on top," Maggie said, and Christ…I could fucking teach her. "He's like an animal, too—he always has to be on top. But when I ask, he lets me—says I might come, um, orgasm faster being on top—that I have to find my own groove," she mumbled.
"Do what you can and then crawl to the top of the bed, grab his hair, and smash your pussy into his face." Kylie gasped. "Type that shit in and send it."
"Oh, good idea!" Maggie.
"Fuck. I cannot—cannot wait to have Gio Sex."
"He'll be here soon, right?" Maggie asked. "You guys were always the couple to beat at school. I remember that."
"Two-motherfucking-days!" Now they were both squealing and laughing, and they continued for a long while. "You'll be my sister-in-law one day. I just know it. It'll be weird when the baby comes…for you, but I think it'll all work out. Oh, did you ever find out who Layla was? 'Cause I asked my dad. He says she's just a manager, so…she had a reason to call Sonny."
"I know. He told me. It's just us…Santino and me." More squealing, more giggling. "And who doesn't love babies? As long as Katie . . . like, likes me? We should be fine."
"She's really nice. But she's one of those girls that…if she's your friend, she's really nice. If she doesn't like you…" Kylie whistled. "You know?"
Kylie continued. "She has a mean streak, and I suggest that you're never around her alone...for the time being. I mean, she could start trouble." My sister was on the money with that shit. It was sound advice. "But yeah…Sonny is loyal. He's not…I don't know. He's been with a lot of women, but I know my brother. He's serious with you."
"Thank God…I'd like…I don't know," Maggie said. "I'm not that concerned with his past, which confused me with my parents. They always taught me to never believe what you hear, always have a new outlook. Stuff like that. They taught me not to judge people. Only God can judge you, but they judge Santino..."
I knocked on Kylie's door, and she was very fast to open it. "What's up?"
"Nothing." I let myself in. "I'm bored."
"Oh…well, let me entertain you." Kylie rolled her eyes. "I'm kidding. Go watch TV."
"I was just at Eclipse." I yawned. "I was tired…left." I shrugged.
"How was it?" Kylie asked.
"Fine…I had a beer, or five," I laughed, taking a seat at Kylie's desk. Maggie was sitting on the bed with her head down. "I don't bite," I told her. "Hello . . . you could say it back."
"Hi," she whispered.
"How are you?" I kept the convo going.
"Good." She was short with me, and I didn't remember her being that way.
"Great…I'm fine…thanks for not asking." I chuckled.
"Don't be a dick, Dame."
"What did I say?" I asked Kylie.
"Nothing." She shook her head, and I broke up their giggle-fest, both of them were nowhere near as jovial as they had been. "Did you get a lap dance? Are lap dances allowed once you're in a relationship?"
I pursed my lips. "I'm not sure. They're innocent enough in nature . . . At Eclipse, the customer isn't allowed to touch. Well, they're not supposed to touch."
"Lap dance?" Maggie asked.
"It's when a stripper grinds her stuff, like…dances," Kylie explained.
Maggie furrowed her brow.
"You really don't know what a lap dance is?" My sister was laughing. "Sonny's girl doesn't know what a lap dance is." She faced me.
I didn't smile, knowing my brother probably lied, saying Eclipse was a bar or something.
"You know Eclipse is a strip club, right?" she asked Maggie. "Are they full nude or do they wear lingerie?" Kylie turned back to me.
"Both…I think it's at the dancer's discretion." I smiled. "Yeah…the new manager, Layla. She used to be a stripper, which is a huge promotion...She hardly knows anything. Dad was bitching earlier—Sonny thinking with his cock again."
Kylie hit me. "What the hell's wrong with you?"
"What? It was a stupid decision—like he thought with his dick." I chuckled.
She folded her arms over her chest. "Don't listen to him."
"I didn't say anything." I looked between Kylie and Maggie. "What did you think I said?" Maggie's eyes were watery. "I didn't mean it the way you thought. I mean, he could be fucking her. I don't know—"
"Get out!" Kylie shouted. "Get out of my room." She looked to Maggie. "It's not true. He doesn't know anything."
"I'm sorry. I didn't know it was a secret." My eyes widened.
"Now what the hell are you talking about?" Kylie looked confused. "What's a secret?"
I shrugged, shaking my head. "If they're not exclusive, Sonny can do what he wants. From what I heard, what they had was a strictly physical thing."
"Who?" Kylie asked.
I tilted my head to Maggie, feigning nonchalance; meanwhile, I knew she could see me.
"Um." Maggie scooted from the bed. "I'm gonna see if the washer's free. I have laundry." She left the room.
Kylie hit me again. "You're so fucking mean! And Sonny wouldn't do that. Why do you have to mess with people all the time?"
"I don't know," I said.
"You do know." Kylie narrowed her eyes. "You're a hatin' motherfucker—that's what you are, Damion. You're a hater. I'm telling Sonny because he has to do some damage control."
"Huh," I mused as she started texting.
"You're with Amelia. Why do you care?" She'd brought her voice down. "I feel really bad. It was all a joke, and I created a monster. I didn't expect Sonny and Maggie to fall in love. . . But Sonny's been miserable for a long time—having all that meaningless sex. He finally found someone to mean something to him. Why can't you be happy for him?" Kylie's heartfelt speech did nothing for me. My thoughts were still my thoughts.
"I am happy for him. You took my words out of context. I don't know what's going on between them. I haven't spoken to Sonny since Halloween."
"Yeah, right. The rumor mill in this family . . . Get the hell out of my room." She pushed me into the hall.
Maggie left the guest room with an arm full of clothes, and I quietly followed her down to the garage—wondering if she knew. She gave me no indication that she knew I was behind her.
Once she dropped her clothes into the machine, I entered.
"Oh!" She jumped, covering her face.
"Did I scare you?" I asked, digging into my pocket for a cigarette.
"Um, yeah." Her hand shook as she reached for the detergent.
"Hey…" I showed her my palms. "I'm just here to do this." I pointed to my mouth, my cigarette hanging.
She nodded, setting dials and staring into the washer.
"I can't believe I scared you—that you're frightened by me," I laughed. "With who you're fucking…sleeping with?" I shook my head, but whispered "hardened criminal" under my breath. And I wasn't lying—not one bit.
"I'm a kitten in comparison," I added. She'd paused, as I continued to smoke. "I'm sure you've seen it. That gun isn't just for decoration. I bet your parents…I mean, if my kid came home with Sonny…" I winced.
When she didn't say anything, I mused, "You're a good Catholic; what are the Ten Commandments again?"
She narrowed her eyes for the briefest of seconds. "There's a movie you can rent." Maggie went to walk around me.
I stopped her.
"Please," she whispered; when she went right, I went left and vice versa.
"Relax," I told her.
"Exodus Twenty. It can also be found in Deuteronomy Five."
"What?" I asked.
"Pay close attention to the last commandment." She raised a brow, giving me attitude. She was saucy, had an edge, and I liked it.
"Ten," I hummed. "Thou shalt not covet your neighbor's wife…ha!" I chuckled. "You're not his wife."
"You shall not covet your neighbor's house; you shall not covet your neighbor's wife, or his male servant, or his female servant, or his ox, or his donkey," she laughed, "or anything that is your neighbor's."
"That's funny…since I firmly believe you've coveted me." I stared into her eyes, and she looked away to the ground. "Don't be upset." I turned her chin back to me. "If he felt the need to sleep around while he was with you? He's a fool," I said. "Did you want one?" I held my cigarette pack out to her.
"No," she whispered. "Thanks."
I hummed, blowing my smoke out, but it was freezing in here. "Nice sweat suit."
"Thanks." She hugged herself, going for the door again.
I sidestepped her. "Wait . . . just chill with me."
"Just leave me alone."
"What did I do?" I asked.
"It's not what you did . . . it's…I don't know. I just think I should stay away from you."
"Self-preservation kicked in, huh?" I laughed.
"I don't know what you mean by that." She shook her head. "But…I love Santino. I want to be with Santino—only him, and he doesn't want me talking to you. I have to respect his decision."
"What?" My eyes widened. "Maggie, if you want to talk to me—talk to me. I'm right here." I reached for her hand; she pulled it away. "Don't let him dictate shit to you . . . I'll give you my number. We can meet, chill out, talk…" I touched her cheek.
She jerked away from me. "I had your phone number, and I made sure to forget it."
"What?" I asked.
Maggie actually stepped closer to me, staring straight up into my eyes. "If my talking to you would upset him, then I don't want to talk to you. Do you understand?"
"Ouch," I said.
"I'm sorry," she said before she turned to leave, and I let her go.
Regardless, I put out my cigarette and followed her upstairs. We didn't talk any more, and I was fine with that. But did she really not want to talk to me? Or was it because of Sonny? What Sonny said? How did she have my phone number? When did she call? Not knowing the answer to any of that fucking bothered me.
"You should leave," Kylie said, approaching me in the hall.
"Why?" I asked.
"Sonny's on his way here."
I groaned. "He's so dramatic."
"Actually . . . he's not. You and me, we're dramatic. Sonny, no." She patted my back, and then gasped. "Now you have to ask yourself: Am I a punk if I leave or stupid if I stay?" She giggled. "I'd leave . . . just saying."
I nodded. "Tell Mom I'll call her."
Leaving would fuck with Sonny's head even more.
And Amelia was waiting for me…
/=/=/=/=/=/
Edward
/=/=/=/=/=/
In all seriousness, I thought taking the sit-down into my office would squash all the awkwardness that was at the table, but a change of location didn't help. My talk with Aro didn't last long. I told him to chill the fuck out and stay away from Sonny. If they can't get along, then they shouldn't work together anymore—to keep their distance.
When Luke came in, it was cool. We got right down to business. His offer was sound—he was going to match me with the dough I was giving to Dame, so he and Amelia could start their life together.
We didn't get to divide and speak about anything else, except for Staten Island—where dudes from both New York and New Jersey—Cullen and Drasso families reside. There's always beef, but we wanted to settle it. This union would help with that, too.
When Sonny came in growling, going for the bottle of Jack in the desk, I knew some shit had popped off outside, but I didn't want to alert Luke. I let it go. Sonny was actually fast to get down to business, too—if only he could stay off his damn cell.
He'd be talking to us, but texting at the same time.
First he shows up late, and then his phone was more important. Did I not teach this kid any fucking manners? Again, Luke didn't seem to care. They must do shit differently over in Jersey, or maybe those things just bother me. I didn't know.
The look on my brother's face when he entered my office . . .
He said Damion bounced, and he didn't look happy about it at all. Then when Luke left, shit kind of hit the fan. Everyone was very quiet at first, no one speaking to each other. Shit got even worse.
"Luke didn't say anything about the Albanians?" Sonny asked, eyes down and on his cell.
"You're fucking rude," I said.
"What?" His thumbs were still typing away. "Seriously, you should let Dame run with a crew over in Jersey…they're more chill—sit around and drink coffee, most of the guys are like fifty…"
"Don't worry about your brother," I said.
"Yeah, but—" he laughed, reading a message now, "if he chilled with them for a week or two, he'll come back here and be appreciative. I'm just saying."
I grinned. "You just want your brother out of New York…I get it."
Sonny didn't reply. He wore a smile and leaned back to adjust his cock.
"Who are you talking to?" With Carlisle and Aro being so quiet, I just kept talking, hoping to cut the tension in the air somehow.
"Maggie . . . look at what she wrote." He went to show me.
I put my hand up to stop him. "I believe you."
"Damion left," Carlisle said again, and he stared, unseeing, at the floor.
"Thanks for telling me." I didn't know how to feel about that yet. He's here every free moment he has, which isn't much. I'm not being a prick. School still comes first.
"Yo…he told me some shit—" Carlisle started.
"Fuck!" Sonny shot up out of his chair, kicking it back.
"What?" I asked.
"That motherfucker!" My son was going bananas.
"Catch him." I pointed to Aro, who was all too happy to grab Sonny and make him sit down.
"Get the fuck off me. I gotta go!"
"Shut up!" I shouted. "What happened? What could have possibly happened now?"
Sonny's leg bounced as he sent another text. "Kylie just said . . . I'm going to kill him." He was nonchalant in that pissed way.
"Who?" I asked.
"Damion . . . he went to the crib—"
"Yours?" I pointed.
"No, yours . . . fucking . . . He's filling Maggie's head with a bunch of bullshit."
I didn't know how to reply. It's true; I've been speaking about Maggie every so often to gauge Dame's interest. He's into her, too, or some shit, which now makes me question his proposal to Amelia. Actually, I wanted Carlisle to talk to him because I don't understand that mindset—loving someone and wanting to fuck someone else. Carlisle says it's possible—to be in love and want someone else. It's all about temptation, impulse control, and a bunch of other shit.
My brother's been on his best behavior for years. He finally stopped running around—fucking everything—when he married Alex. Then again, before that, all this fucked-up shit happened. Maybe he finally realized that his cock was causing all this trouble.
But Damion hasn't done anything. He's not even interested in following Misty around the club anymore—hoping she'd give him a bone. He's not drooling or staring stupid at the dancers anymore, either.
I thought he was in love.
Maybe he is, but he's thinking about Maggie, too.
And here I'd been worried that Sonny would step out of line and go for Amelia.
These fucking kids, man!
"I gotta go." He put his hands up in surrender. "I'm fine. Just let me—"
I groaned, heaving myself out of the chair. "Let's go." Of course, I was going to make sure Sonny didn't actually kill him.
Aro was staying. Carlisle was leaving, too, while Sonny and I hopped into his whip. He was fast to pull away from the curb—still cursing under his breath, his phone forgotten.
"Talk to me," I said. "Did you want me to drive?"
He shook his head, stopping short at the light. "I just don't understand. Amelia is wonderful. Why does Dame have to pursue my girl? Why does—I just don't get him anymore." Sonny scowled out the windshield, and then he laughed. "He wanted Maggie to be his goomah."
"His what?" I acted like I heard him wrong, having grown to hate that word.
"That was his plan all along—wait until she's eighteen and then go for it. As far as he knew, she was leaving for college. It makes sense." He pointed to his temple. "He calls her my plaything, but that's truly all she'd be to him." Sonny groaned loudly. "I'll kill him—"
"Relax." I patted his back. "I can't believe you're letting a girl come between youse." My words were bullshit, and he knew it. "Blood is thicker than . . . cooz. That's all I'm saying."
"Blood makes you related. Loyalty makes you family, and Damion's fucked-up." He pushed his hair back, veering onto the highway.
"And here I thought you'd go for his girl—you'd go for Amelia."
"Never," he said. "That's his chick. I know she's off-limits. Maybe I was jealous for a minute—going through that bullshit with Katie, but I never would have fucked with his shit, or hit on Amelia."
When I didn't comment, he continued. "That's not to say she wouldn't fuck me. I know she would. I wouldn't even have to try hard," he laughed. "Before she even met Damion, she was all giving me the eyes and flirting. It was before I got back with Katie—I wasn't interested then. That should tell you how I roll—how I wouldn't touch what's his. He, on the other hand ..."
Sonny stomped on the gas, going faster. "I know you think Damion is just like you, so you cut him some slack. But in some—most ways, he's nothing like you. He doesn't carry any honor or respect. When I say he doesn't give a fuck about anything, I mean it. Fuck other people and how they'd feel. He wants something . . ."
"I'm starting to see that," I agreed with him. "I still haven't been able to, to reach him."
"And maybe you never will. Maybe he's just soulless, heartless—that motherfucker!"
"Calm down." I reached over to rub his back some more, like when he was a baby. "I went through the same shit with Mom—sort of. I don't know." I looked out the window.
"You thought Mom was going to fuck around? 'Cause I don't see that."
"No," I laughed, finding that hysterical. "Your uncle . . . he was interested in Mom, and . . . for years . . . maybe he didn't outright hit on her, but he'd do things. I don't know. He'd overstep his bounds, so to speak."
"And what happened?" he asked.
"I beat his ass on more than one occasion, nearly killed him on another. He just wouldn't relent." Thinking about this shit was getting me heated. "Look, I'll talk to him. Maybe if I spoke to him, threatened him—maybe if I beat his ass, he'll act right."
Sonny got quiet—remained silent, and that's when I knew how pissed off he truly was. My eldest doesn't do that. He's very vocal, and I wished he'd continued as we drove. That shitty tension filled the cab of the car.
When we pulled up to the house, I couldn't even stop him. He sprinted up the walkway and tore through the house.
I trailed after him, fast to take off my coat in case I had to stop this brawl—stop them from destroying my house.
"That punk left," Kylie giggled, passing me.
"You told him we were coming? How'd you—" I started, confused.
"I sent Sonny a text. Dame made Maggie cry, saying Sonny was sleeping around. Then I felt bad, so I gave Damion a heads up. I didn't know for certain Sonny would run back here, but I had a feeling." She pointed to her temple.
I kissed her forehead and hugged her to my side. "Good girl."
"Dame left like a half-hour ago. He didn't take Vito, so I guess he took the subway."
I nodded, peeking around for Bella.
"Thanksgiving is sure to be awkward. Thank God Gio is coming."
I groaned at just the mention of that stupid holiday.
Then Sonny came back out, still looking around, as Maggie trailed after him. "Can you tell me what's wrong?" she asked him, placing a hand on his back.
He relaxed, just slightly. "Get your shit. We're leaving."
"Whoa…" I put a hand up. "She—"
"She's coming to live with me," he said.
"Um, I still have clothes in the dryer—" Maggie pointed downstairs.
"Then just take your stuff for school tomorrow, and we'll come back." He kissed her cheek. "Sound good?"
She nodded, smiling sadly before she turned for the guest room.
When she was out of sight, I placed my hand on Sonny's forearm to grab his attention. "I'm responsible for her. I told her father she'd be staying here."
"Thank you." Sonny nodded, seeming sincere. "I appreciate everything you've done, going to bat for me as far as her father is concerned . . . but I asked her, and she accepted. She's an adult—can do what she wants, and she chose me—to live with me." He sounded defensive.
"Sonny—"
"No." He was still calm. "I'm not being a dick. I'm not doing this to create a problem or anything. I need her with me, so he can't have such easy access. Dame touches her—Dad . . . come on." He massaged his forehead.
I shook my head, not liking the idea but agreeing. She should go live with him, especially if we'd gain some peace within this house. Things could go back to the way they were. Damion can come and go without a care—shit like that. "Fine," I relented, not wanting problems with him either. "What can I do? But tomorrow or the next day, I want you to have a talk with her father."
"I can respect that—do that." He trailed his hand through his hair. "Fuck!" He puffed his cheeks, blowing out a breath. "Why do I have to be made to feel this way?" He turned to Kylie, who was tracing the wall with her finger, trying to pretend she wasn't listening to us. "Tell Maggie—tell her to wait up for me. I'll be back." Sonny went for the door.
Placing my hand on his chest stopped him. "Where are you going?"
"I won't kill him. Fuck. By the time I get there, maybe I won't be as angry." He shrugged. "But I need to talk to him. Sometimes . . . I can reach him, and maybe—maybe if he agrees to back off…" He wiped his hands clean.
"Hey!" Bella finally joined us. "What's going on?"
"Nothing," I said. "We'll be back."
Bella came over to give me her cheek; I kissed it while Sonny left the house. "You and me—we have to talk." She fisted my shirt. "And you're going to talk. I wanna know what the fuck's been going on around here."
I nodded, agreeing and stealing one more kiss. She's been saying we have to talk for ages now, and I've been doing my best to avoid her and the conversation. It was going to be one of those heavy talks. She knows something's up with Dame. Frankly, she doesn't know shit, and I was going to have to lay it all out for her.
I will lay it all out for her and not hold anything back.
There are hardly any secrets within my marriage, and I like it that way—work, the kids, how we feel—we always talk it out even if it leads to a huge argument.
This time, though, because of what I've been having Dame do—I was afraid she'd be vexed. Sure, Damion is sort of in this against his will, but I was going to bend him to my will, my rule. He had to learn—the difference between right and wrong, and, most of all, respect. It's obvious that he doesn't know a fucking thing about respect, loyalty, the importance of family. It's surprising. Maybe I wasn't the best father, but I thought I'd raised each of my kids to live by love, loyalty, and respect.
Damion went for Carlisle's wife. It's not going to stop him from going for Sonny's girl. It makes no sense either. He was with what'sherface for how many years? Never cheated, never even stepped out of line, and here we are.
Maybe he thinks he's hot shit—that he's done the things he's done, he's my son, and he was about to marry Luke's daughter. Maybe he wants to embrace certain aspects of the "lifestyle"—thinks he's some big-shot wise guy.
"We'll be back soon." I closed the door after myself.
"You don't have to come." Sonny spoke from over the car before he sat inside.
I was fast to hop in, not sure if he'd take off. "No, it's cool."
"I hate that I even have to do this." He stopped from starting the car to cover his face. "I have to…if he…if…Dad, I'd kill him."
"Want me to drive?" I asked.
He started the engine and pulled away from the curb. "I'm good."
"It really bothers me that this chick is coming between youse—just saying."
"What? He can't act right, so I'm supposed to get rid of her, act like nothing's wrong? She will be my wife one day."
"No…I'm not saying for you to sit back and do nothing. I can't believe your brother." I shook my head. "What the fuck is wrong with him?"
"He's got it in his head—he wants to fuck her. Before me, he could keep his distance because he had nothing to worry about. Now, my being with Maggie threatened his plan—she was no longer an option."
"I get it—I understand." I nodded, leaning my head back. "You really think she's the one you'll marry?" Maybe I was blinded by her age, but I still didn't see it. They're complete opposites.
"I do," he said. "The way I feel when I'm with her, the way she feels, the way other women have suddenly disappeared," he laughed. "I'm not even checking out other broads because what I have is better. And I'm supposed to fuck that up for a thrill? Fuck, no. I'm not saying I'd do the shotgun thing like Damion's trying to do with Amelia. But one day . . ."
I placed my hand on his shoulder. "I'm happy for you."
He groaned. "Why can't people leave us the fuck alone? So many fucking obstacles . . . She's worth every one. It's just bullshit."
"I hope you guys make it through this maze we call life," I sighed. "Mom and me went through shit. Carlisle wasn't the only wrench life threw at us . . . Christ. I hope you never know what I'm talking about." I turned to stare out the window. "This is heartbreaking for me . . . especially since—I know clipping fuckers isn't your thing. But you'd ice Dame."
He raised a brow, and he looked like he had more to say—something on the tip of his tongue.
"What's up?"
"Nothing."
"Seriously." I smiled, hitting his arm. "I've been reading you since you were born—even had your cries down, knew what you needed. Talk to me."
"I was kidding earlier, about sending him to Jersey. You need to tell Luke . . . I mean, Luke sees him at a sit-down, knows he's getting involved. You need to let him know Dame doesn't have his button. Luke won't offer Dame a job, but Dame might offer his services. And you don't—we don't need that crazy fucker playing for the other team. He's stupid—knows nothing, and he might say some shit he's not supposed to. He just wants to murder people, go to school, fuck his girl and mine…Understand?"
"Yeah." I rasped, quick to clear my throat.
"I took his nine away. Unless you gave him another one, I'm sure he's itching to get one, too."
I laughed. "I gave him a butterfly knife—told him to be crafty."
Sonny snorted a laugh through his nose. "He needs to learn how to fight." And I was surprised that he wasn't talking down about his brother. Sonny is used to being the big brother, though—he's been cutting Damion and Kylie slack all his life. They've always done shit to him, and they've always leaned toward him if I was being a dick, or was away. "Why does he have to be like this?"
"I don't know, but don't you ever change. You love Maggie, you fight for your relationship. Fuck me, fuck everyone else. Don't pay me any attention. I still think she's young…" I nudged his elbow, making him smile. "But think about it, when you're pushing forty—looking old and shit, she'll still be young and hot. I got lucky…Bella—your mom." I just smiled, 'cause my baby's still got it. She's fucking sexy as hell.
"Mom takes good care of herself."
"That's one way of looking at it…but…I was being an asshole. You don't look thirty—"
"That's because I'm twenty-seven!" he shouted.
"You know what I mean. You look…twenty-three tops. Damion…he still looks like a teenager. He needs to work out or some shit. And Kylie, baby girl doesn't look older than fifteen. That's why I'm all like…with you and Maggie. It's weird."
"It's not weird to me. I'm not some creepy pedophile fuck. It's not even all about her body, or her looks. We just—we get each other and we connected," he sighed, shaking his head. "I don't know who I take after." Sonny touched his chest. "I remember shit…I remember a lot. You were skinny as hell before you went to prison. You keep yourself bulked up—have been for years. I started lifting weights because of you." He poked me. "But you and Dame can be two gangly motherfuckers."
"Fuck you," I laughed. "You and me are the same height. You're just wider…maybe you take after your mother's side—Emmett's big like you." I shrugged. "I don't know."
/=/=/=/
When we pulled up to Damion's building, Sonny didn't have any elaborate plans, although I saw that he was still pissed. I didn't tell him to cry like I did with Kylie. Then, Damion would never open the door for tears.
The front door to the dormitory was locked, but Sonny—who I realize is truly a crafty motherfucker—was quick to use his credit card, jimmying the door open. Then he pushed that shit lever in, and we were granted entrance.
"Where'd you learn to do that?" I hadn't done any shit like that in years.
Sonny actually cracked a smile as we walked down the hall to the elevator. "When I was just moving up—sometimes had to scramble to get Aro's tribute, I'd do side jobs. It's not shit I'm proud of—stealing petty shit, but…" He shrugged.
I nodded. "I've been there."
"I can pick just about any lock. For a little while it was like a hobby. For years…I never had shit to do. I'd meet up with this chick or that one, but what was I really doing?"
"Uh, school?" I raised a brow, knowing that shit never interested him in the first place.
"I was able to finagle…did what I had to do, leaning on professors for extensions and whatnot. Mostly, I was cool though. I'd study, do whatever for Aro, and my own thing. You'd be surprised how much downtime I still had."
The elevator came, and we entered. Damion lives on the third floor, and I bet we could have run up the steps faster. This building is old and dingy dirty. It's also very quiet, not what I'd imagine dorms to be like. Then again, it's late.
"Don't college kids party?" I asked as we left the elevator.
"This building, which is actually considered off-campus, is reserved for the older crowd—those in med and law school, graduate programs…" He trailed off. "You knock."
I shook my head. "You do it. I wanna see if he runs or something." Maybe I am a prick because I busted a gut laughing. "Sorry." I plan to stop Sonny from harming Dame, so…I can laugh at that.
Hearing someone trudging up the stairs, I pulled Sonny to the side. But then I was shocked as shit to see my brother stomping down the hall. He did a double take, staring at Sonny and me, but then he continued on.
"Yo…!" I widened my arms. "What are you doing here?"
Carlisle shook his head, gritting his teeth. He briefly stopped in front of Dame's door before he just kicked that shit in. The door opened with a bang, and then we heard a loud chick-scream. "You fuck—" He ran in, and that's what I call bursting in like a motherfucker.
Sonny and I exchanged a look, and then we sprinted in after him.
The door was half off its hinge. Carlisle was fast to snatch up Damion, who was naked and looked as surprised as the rest of us. He had Dame by his neck, smacking him back against the wall. Amelia was in his bed, hugging a sheet to her body.
"My wife? You put your fucking hands on my wife?" Carlisle seethed, bringing Dame's head away from the wall to slam him back.
"Be easy," I said, reaching.
Sonny stopped me. "You reap what you sow." He gestured to them, and even I couldn't deny my brother this. But how did he find out? I spoke to Alex myself—explained that Dame was drunk, that he didn't mean it, and I promised he'd never contact her again, which he hasn't.
"Get the fuck off me!" Damion pushed against him, but the look in Carlisle's eyes…He had that blind rage, which awards you an unlimited amount of strength. My son didn't stand a chance.
"Let go," I told Carlisle, which made him increase his hold on Dame's neck. "Carlisle!" I shouted, about to kick his legs in.
"Just give him a minute," Sonny said. "How you doin', hon?" he asked Amelia. "Why don't you take the sheet and your clothes—go down to the rest rooms?" He tilted his head out.
Amelia was crying as she stood up, gathering the sheet around herself.
"You fucking little piece of shit—you forced her, held a gun to her!" Carlisle slammed Dame's head in one more time, and then let go with force, throwing him down onto the ground.
Damion was curled on his side, coughing his brains out.
"Damion?" Amelia kneeled down to him.
"Just go," Sonny said, taking her hand and helping her up. "Here…" He took what looked like Damion's jacket and draped it over her shoulders.
"You all right?" I nudged Dame with my foot.
"You—you were going to let him kill me?" He glared up at me.
My eldest got in my way. "No…you don't get to look at him like that," Sonny exclaimed. "Get the fuck up, you pussy."
"Fuck you—fuck all of you!" Damion stood up from the floor, grabbing his boxers.
"You call that a dick?" Carlisle put his leg out, making it swoop, which knocked Dame back to the floor.
"Cut it out!" I shouted. "The both of youse—"
"What?" Carlisle turned to me. "I deserve an explanation. He tells me some shit—I can't get it out my mind. I confront Alex—" He groaned, kicking Dame in his ribs.
I yanked him away, pushing him out into the hall. "Watch yourself."
Carlisle pointed at me, narrowing his eyes and shaking his head.
"You need to chill the fuck out. Nothing happened between Dame and your wife, all right? He was drunk. You, out of everyone in the fucking world, should sympathize—the shit that happens when you're fucked up." I instinctively flinched toward him. "Don't put your hands on my kid again. You hear me, Carlisle?"
My brother laughed. "Right…right. I'll relax. I'll calm down." He backed away. "You keep that fucker away from me, but this—him and me? We're not done yet."
I trailed my hand through my hair. "Carlisle . . . don't do some stupid shit, and then I have to clip you."
"I'll be at the New York Palace. I'm sure Aro, Anthony—they'll all be looking for me soon." He punched the wall.
I turned back to see Damion dressing himself while Sonny watched. I didn't have to worry about them for a second. "Whoa—why? What happened?"
"I fucking lost it." Carlisle pointed to his temple. "What the fuck do you think happened? She's my heart, my everything…the thought of her with someone else…"
"What happened?" Sonny came out into the hall.
"Is Alex okay?" I whispered. "What'd you do to her?"
Carlisle swallowed, tears in his eyes. "Does it fucking matter? She's fine, I guess—whatever. She's probably gone to your house by now, ran to Bella. I dunno. I gotta go."
"You should go home," I said.
"He beat on her?" Sonny asked.
I ignored him. "Carlisle!" I called after him, but he was fast to run down the steps.
Groaning into my hands, I looked back to Sonny and then Damion. "What—I don't know what to say or where to begin." I slumped my shoulders. Truth be told, I didn't know whether to start swinging, shouting, or crying. Feeling so exasperated with the situation, and, most of all, Damion.
I looked at Sonny, the floor, everything but Dame.
"We came separately." Sonny started, just as Amelia left the bathroom. "We're just as surprised he showed up as you are."
Damion cupped his neck, glaring at the floor.
Amelia walked over cautiously, fully dressed and with tears in her eyes. "I, um—" When she saw Damion, she ran into his arms. "Are you okay?"
He nodded, wrapping an arm around her. "Can I help you two?"
"Can you help us?" I was actually in hysterics suddenly. "You little fucking troublemaker." Shaking my head, I waved a finger at him and Amelia. "Get rid of your girl because she might not like what I have to say."
He groaned, staring down at her.
"What?" she asked.
"You know what…" Sonny kept bopping his head, grimacing. "Enjoy your night—what's left of it. Yeah…" He smiled. "Tomorrow afternoon, we'll settle this shit—put it all out on the table. We'll make sure Unc is there, too. We'll all talk." He clapped once. "Sound good?" Sonny's gaze traveled back to me.
I shrugged my shoulders, knowing that if Carlisle did what he did, I was needed at home—to either try and save his marriage or to talk Bella down. She'd obviously be furious, and we had to talk anyway. I guess shit with Damion could wait. We had a monumental amount of damage control to do.
And truthfully? I was disappointed in myself—for failing as a parent, raising Damion, having him turn out the way he did. I couldn't even squash those feelings with thinking about all the wonderful attributes he does have.
I could barely fucking look at him.
I wasn't just disappointed in my son, I was fucking heartbroken.
"Yeah…" I scratched my head, on the verge of fucking tears. And I didn't know if I wanted to cry or choke Damion out myself. "Tomorrow…the situation will be calm." I waited for him to say something, anything, but he didn't. "Six o'clock, Eclipse, and you better fucking show up. We'll come back here to get you—" I stopped talking when the campus police trampled up the stairs.
"I'll be there," Damion said.
"Good evening!" Sonny wore a bright smile, talking to the officers. "We were just leaving."
"Hold up—" One of them started.
Sonny put his hand up. "We're leaving." He yanked on my sleeve, and we bounced—walked out, hopped back into his car and left.
Thank you for reading.
Bwahahahaaha. How many of you hate Dame right now? I bet you all want to blame Maggie when she's actually the innocent in all this. Rock on, babes!
See you next Wednesday!