Avowed (The Manipulation Trilogy Book 3) (11 page)

He stays silent for a minute, continuing to massage my feet, putting all his energy and attention into what he's doing.

“A few days later Leona called me and she was upset. She begged me to come to her house because she needed to talk. At first I wanted to refuse. We were never really close but she clung to me, tried to make things be different than what they were. There was something in her voice that caught my attention though, she sounded desperate, and so I went. She told me she had been raped and didn't know what to do.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “She acted strong but I could see how much it had destroyed her. She even flinched when I tried to hug her. I felt so destroyed. If I had gone back for her it wouldn't have happened. That piece of scum wouldn't have been able to touch her.”

He stops rubbing my feet and leans forward resting his head in his hands, gripping his hair as he recalls the past.

“I spent all my spare time with Leona, making sure she felt safe after what happened.” He laughs a mirthless laugh and shakes his head. “She was a mess for a while. More so when she found out three weeks later that she was pregnant. I assured her that we could say the baby was ours so she wouldn't have to tell anyone about the rape.”

I gasp. Damon was going to let people believe he fathered a child with Leona just so she wouldn’t have to tell people her secret. How can he not see himself as the good man he is? Something niggles in my mind, but it passes too quickly for me to grasp onto it so I let it go.

“I tried convincing her that it wasn't her fault and she should report it so he couldn't do it again to someone else but she just wanted to forget. The day that Lydia died I was round Leona's house. My phone was ringing nonstop, there was call after call and texts, all from Lydia, but I ignored her. When she left a voicemail telling me what she planned to do, I panicked. I had to try and stop her. I didn't drive your dad home and he lost his life, and I didn't help Leona and she got raped, so I had to try and do something for your sister. I couldn't deal with any more loss. I rushed out of the house, pushing Leona out of the way when she tried to stop me as I went.”

Damon stops, his chest heaving as he drags up the past. When he looks at me his eyes are wild, desperate for me to understand.

“I didn't mean to bump her, beauty, it just happened. She fell over but I didn't stop. Hell, I didn't even realise she'd taken a hit.”

I move, pulling my legs from his lap and shift to sit next to him. I already know the scene he found when he got to my house. Finding me cradling Lydia's body must haunt him as much as it does me.

“I was devastated that I couldn't help Lydia. It felt like everything in my life was spiralling out of control again. I should have seen what path she would take but I didn't. When I left you at the hospital I went back to my house and cried like a fucking baby. For the first time in my adult life I let tears flow. All my mistakes surfaced, and began pulling me under the darkness, consuming me. Drowning me. I didn't help Leona and she was raped, I didn't help Lydia and she died. Then Leona called me, said she needed to see me, and I needed to be with someone too. After your devastation I was lost, I saw and felt every bit of pain you felt and I couldn't shake it. It followed me home, your face haunting me. I couldn't stay in on my own so I went to Leona's.”

“When I got there her eyes were red rimmed from crying. When I asked if she was okay she said that she had lost the baby. She fell when I rushed out and hit her stomach. She told me it wasn't my fault and that she forgave me. Hearing those words and seeing what state she was in finished me off. I knew then that I was a monster. It was the final nail in the coffin for me and I knew that I needed to live my life single. I couldn't share my evil with anyone. I needed to deal with it alone.”

I wrap my arms around his neck in comfort, hoping to take away the burden he has carried for all these years, all the blame he felt, all the lives lost that he felt responsible for.

“Damon it's not true. Pops' death was an accident, and there was no way you could have predicted what happened to Lydia. I was her sister and I didn't see it. And truthfully Damon, I don't believe a single word that Leona says. She probably was never even pregnant. She already lied about enough things for me to discredit her honesty. You have to let go and forgive yourself before it destroys you.” I take his hand and place it on my stomach so he can see why he needs to let go of the past. “We're all that matters now you, me and this little girl. Your little girl. The past is just that, the past, and you need to let it go now.”

He nods his head, pulling me into a kiss before standing and lifting me into his arms,

“Come on beauty, let’s go to bed,” he says softly. I nod my head, burying my face into his neck as he carries me up the stairs.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

October 25
th
2014

Ella

It's Saturday afternoon, and I have been lazing about for the past few hours, vegging on the sofa with snacks and watching films. Damon had to leave to go into a meeting to finalise a deal that he and Spencer are keen to close. I expected him to be back already, and I keep glancing at my phone waiting for him to ring or text.

I’m driving myself crazy
.

The emptiness I feel when he leaves consumes me, and that just pisses me off. I’ve never been a needy person before but since I found out I’m pregnant I have been clinging. Damon keeps me calm though, and when I start freaking out about becoming a mother he is there to help settle me. I feel like half of me is missing even when he’s gone for only short periods of time.

I’ve become a clingy wife.

I hate it.

My phone beeping alerts me to a new message. I can't help feeling disappointed that I see it's from Tom.

Tom: What are you doing? Are you free for a visit?

Me: Nothing, just watching a movie. Do you want to come over?

I don’t even have to think about it. I want to see Tom. I have so much swimming in my head and a laugh with Tom is just what I need. I shoot him a quick reply before tidying up the wrappers from my snacks. By the time I return from the kitchen Tom has replied.

Tom: Yes! See you soon. You need me to pick up anything?

Me: Pickled Onions!!!!

Tom: Err, another craving? Okay, won’t be long :)

I didn’t think much about wanting pickled onions but I guess he’s right.

Placing my phone back down on the table, I feel restless. I need to do something to keep myself occupied until Tom gets here. Standing, I cross over to the large mirror above the fire place, and check out my appearance. My hair looks a mess so I grab my brush from my bag and pull it roughly through my hair, which wasn't a good idea as it’s now filled with static and pointing in every direction. I tie it back in a messy bun, giving up trying to make it look decent.

I can't believe how much I have changed. A few months ago I wouldn't even dare leave the bedroom without a face full of makeup. I was shallow, I see that now, but it was all part of my game. Part of my act.

Part of my plan.

To win I had to look the part in order to play the part.  It was never really me though. I can finally feel comfortable with who I am again.  

I take in my surroundings and everything looks perfect, nothing is out of place.  Everything in the room is Damon's. The furniture, the pictures, some of which are timeless classics that I’m sure cost a fortune, but don't look out of place, mixed in with the abundance of family photos scattered around the room. Everything I see is Damon but I love it. I find it comforting how easily I have been able to just slide into his life, and still feel at home. I still can’t quite believe it. This is my home.  I know this house is Damon's but it's the only place since Pops died that has ever felt like home to me.    

The doorbell ringing pulls me from my thoughts. I dash to the front door and can see though the glass that it is Tom. He’s stand casually, leaning against the wall, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets, and a burgundy scarf wrapped around his neck. I pull open the door to greet him and he gives me a smile, holding out the pickled onions to me.

I snatch them from his grasp, taking them from him with more force than necessary, and quickly unscrew the lid.

Sinking my fingers in and pulling out a handful, I eat at least five in one go. Crunching loudly and savouring the pickled vinegar as it makes my taste buds dance, exploding with flavour. I invite Tom in with a grunt and nod.

Satisfaction washes over me as I close my eyes, savouring every single mouthful. The only thing that could make this better is something sweet.
Chocolate.
  I spin on my heel and quickly rush into the kitchen, opening and closing the cupboards until I find what I’m searching for.

Taking a fork from the drawer, I stab it into the pickle, snagging one before dipping it in the chocolate spread.

Oh my gosh!

The taste is magic in my mouth, and I can’t help the moan that escapes my lips as I repeat. The pickle mixed with the smooth creamy chocolate is heavenly. A waterfall gushes in my mouth as my taste buds have a whole new explosion experience.

After a few mouthfuls I finally remember Tom, and glance in his direction to find a disgusted look on his face.

“What?” I ask around a mouthful of lushness, not bothering with manners.

“Ella, you really are disgusting. That is the grossest thing I have ever seen.” He states, not hiding the repulsion from his voice, his face twisted with a grimace. 

I put the fork down and walk over to him with a warm smile. Tom has always kept me grounded and never been afraid to tell me the truth. I love that about him.

Tom pulls me into a brotherly hug, pressing against my bump and just as I’m about to pull away his hand sneaks up to playfully ruffle my hair.

I giggle and escape his clutches, not bothering to sort my mess of hair out. Brown locks stick out around my head, pieces sticking to my lips and eye lashes but I want revenge. I dive at Tom to mess his perfectly gelled hair. He dodges me, feigning right but slipping to the left and quickly spinning to seize me from behind. I struggle and fake annoyance.

“Tom, it took me ages to do my hair,” I whine.

“Really Ella? It looks like you fell out of bed and just pulled a brush through it,” he says whilst laughing. I blush at how close he is to the truth, but I haven’t just fallen out of bed, I’ve been up hours. I’ll keep that to myself. I’d rather he think I’ve been napping instead of just being a lazy arse, pining after her husband.

Tom spins me to face him, his eyes lit up with merriment, but his gaze pins me in place. His piercing blue eyes see
into
me and I clamp up, feeling uncomfortable.

“Can I get you a drink?” I ask, moving from his hold and walking back to the counter. I need a breather away from his all seeing eyes. What he was seeing I don’t know.

It made me feel bare
.

“Yes please. Can I get a coffee?” Tom’s voice has deepened; hurt lowering the tone, but I don’t look at him. I can feel his eyes still on me, burning a hole into my soul, reading me. In my peripheral vision I notice him moving closer to me, crossing the kitchen, and leaning casually against the counter. I begin making us a drink, using more force than necessary with the utensils.  

I’m avoiding the obvious. Tom made me feel cut open with one look, and although he’s never been afraid to tell me how it is, he never really shares his feelings.

His knowing eyes dissected me on the spot and I couldn’t deal with it. I’ve put my walls up and he knows I have. 

“You're looking good Ella. Your bump is really growing.” His voice is soft when he speaks, letting me know he’s going to drop it, whatever
it
was, like he usually does. He always gives me what I need. I know that my little girl will be no different.

I smile knowing she will always be taken care of by her uncles. There will be no messing with her with Spencer and her honorary Uncle Tom standing guard.

But I know they’ll always be a step behind Damon. He will stop at nothing to protect, love and care for his daughter.

My hand moves to my stomach, rubbing in circular motions when she moves. She kicks my hand as if acknowledging my touch. I reach out to Tom, quickly crossing to his side, and take his hand and place it gently on my bump so that he can feel too.  When she gives another kick his eyes widen in amazement.

“Wow Ella,” he gasps in wonderment. “That's freaky and amazing at the same time. Make her do it again,” he demands.

Laughing, I press on my stomach a little and we both wait to see if Jellybean will do it again, but after a few minutes of nothing happening he drops his hand away. 

“I guess she’s nervous around Uncle Tom too,” he says in a knowing voice. “I can't believe you’re going to be a mum Ella. I'm going to be an uncle.” He says it with such pride that my heart swells with love for him and I choose to ignore his first comment.

“She is going to love her Uncle Tom just as much as she will love her Uncle Spencer.  And who knows, she may have a little friend to play with soon enough?” I add with a little humour, hinting at him and Lacy. Tom’s face is a picture. 

“I don't know about that Els. We’re not ready for that yet,” he exclaims, and his voice is filled with panic.

“Relax Tom, I was kidding.” I can’t help but add, “But you never know...” and let it hang there, and I can tell by his face that I’ve got him thinking.

“Come on lets go sit in the lounge,” I say, grabbing our drinks and nudging him out the kitchen. Tom leads the way into the lounge, and removes his coat, throwing it down on the chair. I walk over to set our drinks on the coffee table before moving to pick up Tom’s coat, and walking back out to the hall to hang it on the coat hook. When I return to the lounge, Tom is looking at me in mock shock. His mouth is hanging open, but his eyes full of humour.

“What?” I ask giving him a questioning look, maybe even a little suspicious.

“Since when have you picked up after me?” he asks. Shrugging I cross over to the sofa and plop down, patting the seat beside me. “It's usually you leaving things lying around and me picking up after you,” he says jokingly. I know he is only messing with me.

Things are different now. I have a safe place, a home, and that makes me happy. Being happy makes me enjoy my life, and mine and Damon's home is beautiful because of our happiness. 

Kicking off his shoes, Tom throws himself down on the couch, slouching, half laying and half sitting, and kicks his feet up on the table.

“Make yourself comfortable Tom.” I say sarcastically, making Tom laugh.

“Thanks babe. I will,” he teases.  I pick up a cushion and hit him across the head and giggle at his shocked face.

“So what's been going on? How are things with Lacy?” I ask when the laughter dies down.  At just the mention of Lacy's name Tom’s face lights up. His eyes glaze over and an adorable goofy smile plays on his lips.

“Lacy is great. Things are good. I never dreamed I could meet anyone like her. Jesus, I sound like a pussy, but she makes me happy.” He sounds so sure of himself, of them, and it makes me smile at his obvious love for her. I wonder if he has told her yet, or if he even realises.

“I'm glad Tom. How come she isn’t with you?”

“She’s gone to stay with her family for a few days. She’ll be back tomorrow,” he replies. Tom doesn't sound very happy that she’s away, and this only confirms my suspicions that he has finally fallen in love. I'm glad that he doesn't have to rush off though because it's been ages since we’ve spent some real time together.

“So how was the honeymoon? Did you guys talk?” he asks, and waits patiently while I decide what to tell him. 

“Yes, we had to Tom. For us to be able to move forward we needed to tell each other everything.” I take in a much needed breath and make the decision to share some things. “You were right about Lydia. The only relationship between them was in her head. Damon really was innocent in all that. All the blame and anger I felt towards him was for
nothing
.” I answer truthfully, and drop my eyes, unable to look at him.

Tom was the only one who knew the truth about everything I had done before meeting Damon, things that I am not proud of and I regret deeply.

Things I haven’t told Damon yet.

I thought Damon would have a lot of questions for me but he seems to have just let everything go. I’m happy, but I know one day he will ask and I’ll have to tell him. Until that day I’m happy to stay silent.

Tom’s voice softens, bringing my eyes to his, and his blue eyes are filled with understanding. He might not agree with what I’ve done but he understands. I can see he is really thinking about his next words. “Don't blame yourself Ella. If you hadn’t believed Lydia's diary then none of the good stuff would have happened either,” he says gently. Tom’s voice is filled with sincerity and that has always had the ability to calm me.

It’s no different now and I instantly relax.

Scooting closer so he is sitting right next to me, his hand moves to rest gently on my stomach. “You wouldn’t have this little one, and that would be a shame,” he says with such authenticity. Tears sting my eyes and I have to blink a few times to stop myself from crying.

Tom is right. If I hadn’t believed Lydia's diary then Damon would not have become my husband.

“What did Damon say when you told him the truth?” Tom asks gently.

“He was shocked. I know he was hurt, deeply hurt, but he tried to hide it. I all but told him that for the first few weeks of our relationship I was using him.” My voice shakes as I remember how hurt Damon was when I told him the truth. The look in his eyes when he thought I didn’t really love him, the pain in them, sliced me apart.  I will never forget it and it’s one that I never want to see again.

“Did he tell you about Lydia?  What happened between them? Does he know about the diary? Are you planning on showing him the diary?” he probed.