Avowed (The Manipulation Trilogy Book 3) (23 page)

Suddenly, his professional brooding expression slips into place, and he looks at Damon’s angry face. Damon takes a protective stance in front of me, not saying a word.

“Thank you for your cooperation Mr. Hunt. We have everything we need. Should we need anything more we’ll be in contact.” Damon gives Smith a swift nod. “Take care of Pops’ daughter,” Smith says before striding out the door, and leaving my husband in a confused, shocked state.

Damon quickly moves to pull me into his arms and rocks me until I’m calm. I relay everything Smith told me and my husband is equally as shocked as me.

I have so many thoughts and questions but my mind can’t focus on one thing. I feel like my whole life was a lie. I wait for hurt and anger to fill me but it doesn’t. Love fills me when Damon begins kissing my head. His lips slowly descend to mine and my heart takes flight.

Beep, beep, beep, beep.

And so does the heart monitor still attached to me. Damon stops and a smirk pulls on his lips.

“Why are you smirking?” I ask, a little breathless.

“I’ve felt your heart speed up beneath my touch but I wanted to hear the proof. You love me,” he states.

“I do,” I reply with a giggle.

Damon always gives me what I need and what I need is his love. My past is my past and my future is Damon’s. I don’t want to live in the past any more. I want to live my life to the fullest with this funny, sexy, broody, domineering, bossy man.

I’m keeping him.

He’s keeping me.

I have my home and life right in front of me. I lean up to kiss him, needing to feel his love and show him mine. Damon’s lips descend again.

Vera comes in, wheeling a chair, and has a smile gracing her lips. I giggle at my husband’s groan.

“Are you ready to meet your daughter?” she asks us, not noticing our moment, or pretending not to have interrupted.

“Yes,” I squeal with excitement. Damon’s face lights up and fills with an expectant gaze. It’s time to meet our Jellybean.

****

My nerves are making me feel sick. Damon is standing beside me to meet our daughter and although I know she’s okay, I feel like my happiness could be snatched away at any given moment.

Old habits die hard.

The NICU nurse, Emma, is bringing our Jellybean to us. Butterflies flutter in my body, my stomach churns, and I’m fidgeting. My heart is on some weird rhythm, pumping, beating, thumping, pounding to its own beat.

Emma approaches with a tiny bundle in a blanket and jealousy rages in me. I want my daughter in my arms, snuggling to
my
chest. Damon told me I was out of it for hours and almost all of Christmas day has passed.

Our daughter was born just past midnight on Christmas morning through caesarean section, explaining why I feel like I’ve been cut in half with a blunt blade. She’s our strong angel. She’s surviving, despite being born a month early, and I’m about to meet her for the first time.

Anticipation fills me and I mentally will Emma to hurry up her steps. Damon sucks in a breath when she nears, seeing his daughter for the first time. I hold my breath.

“Oh God,” he whispers, choked. “She’s stunning.”

In the next heartbeat Jellybean is in my arms. Her warm tiny body nestling against my bare chest when I pull my hospital gown forward, holding her against me. She steals my breath when she nuzzles me, breathing me in. A small contented sigh slips past her heart shaped pink lips when she gets comfortable.

I fall in love with her with an intense force. My heart doesn’t split in half for Damon and her. My heart doesn’t just double in size. It swells, building and exploding around me, warming my soul. My love for her fills me to the brim. 

She’s perfect.

She has a head full of hair, soft as silk and tiny ears. I run my finger over the shell, finishing at the small lobe, feeling her. Touching her. Knowing her.

She’s me and Damon.

She’s ours.

I can’t take my eyes off her.

Jellybean yawns, her plump pink lips forming a perfect o, and releases a sweet squeaky noise. My ears latch on to the sound, imprinting it to my memory. She settles, nestling against me again. Her lips are so kissable. I want to kiss her everywhere.

Perfectly pouty mouth, the bottom lip fuller than the top, with a seamless dip in the centre. Thick black eyelashes – longer than I would have thought possible – fan her cheeks.

Running my finger across her cheek, around her eye, down the tip of her nose, and stroking her lips, I take her in. My tears fall as I memorise every feature and commit each detail to my mind.

She’s precious.  

“I’m lost for words, overwhelmed with awe and love. I’m a mum and need to take care of this baby doll, protect her with everything I am, and encourage her to be the best she can be. I thought I was ready for this and now she’s here I have no doubt I will protect her with my life. I already don’t want to breathe without her. I can’t remember her not existing. I feel like I’ve known her forever, like she’s always been in my life, my soul. She fits in our life Damon. She’s finally here,” I cry, my voice breaking throughout.

Our little Jellybean opens her eyes and I gasp. Melted chocolate meets my gaze, the exact same shade as her father’s. Damon wraps his arms around us, holding us to him. I look into his eyes and see him crying tears of joy and love.

“She’s perfect,” he whispers, his eyes dropping to our daughter. “I can see so much of Pops in her. She’s… oh God beauty. We created this little person? How is it possible to make something so faultless, flawless? She completes us Ella.”

I’m lost for words. He’s right. She completes us. I look deeper into her features, trying to see what Damon does, and I see it. Damon shakes my world at his next words.

“How would you feel naming her after him? Poppy Hunt,” he beseeches. I can’t speak. I’m too choked up to find words so I nod my head at him before nuzzling his neck.

We sit for as long as we’re allowed, holding and hugging her, until it’s time to go back to my room. Tears fill my eyes again at leaving her alone. I don’t want her to ever feel alone.

She will never be alone again when we get her home.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

January 9
th
2015

Ella

I’m sitting patiently on the hospital bed as I wait for the nurse to bring my daughter to me. Today is the day that we finally get to go home. I'm not sure how I feel. My emotions are all over the place.  The past two weeks have been the most terrifying and most beautiful moments of my life.

Everything that we have been through has led to this. 

I get to be a mum. I get to look at my daughter's beautiful face every night knowing how blessed we both are to be here.

I'm scared. 

I'm scared that somehow I will mess this up, that I won’t be good enough for her. I almost lost her because of my mistakes and I will never forgive myself for that. 

The door swinging open pulls me from my thoughts. I expect to see the nurse but it’s Damon, pushing the car seat in a wheelchair, and carting a few bags. The sight of him calms me. I will always have him, no matter what.

“What's wrong beauty?” he asks, concern lacing his voice. He always knows when something is wrong. 

“I'm okay Damon. I just want to go home,” I reply but my voice waivers, giving away my emotional state.

Damon strides towards me, and sits down on the bed, being careful not to bump my leg or jostle me too much. His palm comes up to my face and I turn my cheek into the embrace.

“Beauty?” he questions.

I know what he wants. He wants in my head, he wants my thoughts. It’s still hard expressing myself after years of keeping my real emotions locked away.

“I... what if I’m not good enough? What if I can’t give her everything she needs?” I ask in a quiet voice, expressing my darkest fears and thoughts. 

“You’ll be fine Ella. We will be fine, we’ve got this,” he says, so sure of us. I nod my head, knowing in my heart if I have him everything will always be okay.

The sound of the door opening draws our attention. Damon’s hand drops from my face, and he stands as our beautiful daughter is wheeled in to the room in a clear plastic hospital crib. Poppy has spent most of her time in the Neonatal Unit, and we’ve visited every chance we could.

“Someone wants her mummy,” the nurse says, before reaching into the crib and lifting Poppy out, placing her into my waiting arms. Her little hand grips onto my finger like she knows it’s me.

She knows who I am.

I lift her to my face and inhale her sweet baby scent, and it makes me light headed at how perfect her smell is. It’s the most mouth watering smell in the world, and it’s etched firmly into my brain. I close my eyes for a second to savour the moment.

She’s delicious.

Damon stands and walks over to the bags he brought in, and pulls out her little lemon yellow dress that I bought her at Bundles of Love. He brings it to me along with a few other items and places them at my side.

“I thought you would like her going home outfit to be this,” he says. I nod my head at him. It would have been my choice had I packed the hospital bag early.

It’s perfect.

The nurse speaks with Damon for a moment whilst I dress Poppy, and I hear her say something about discharge forms, but I don't take it in. All I can do is look at my beautiful baby girl.

I quickly strip her of her clothes and change her nappy before dressing her in the little dress, lifting her back into my arms as soon as she is dressed. Once I'm done I realise that the nurse has left the room and Damon is leaning against the wall watching me.

“What?” I ask. I can’t read his expression

“You’re amazing with her Ella,” he says quietly. I blush at his praise, not sure what I’ve done to deserve it. I only dressed her.

“I'm terrified I'm doing it wrong,” I reply. Letting down my guard isn't easy for me. Admitting my fear is something I have struggled with for years.

He moves so he is sitting down on the bed, and leans back on his elbow, gently stroking Poppy's head, just watching her. We sit like this for a while, both staring at her and not saying anything.

“I'm afraid too,” he whispers. I lift my eyes until I'm staring into his, and his fear is clear, but it doesn't frighten me. Just knowing that we are both in this together makes me feel stronger. I interlock our fingers, giving his hand a little squeeze, but I don't need to say anything. He knows me.

“Let's go home Ella,” he demands, standing and collecting the car seat, and placing it down on the bed.  I gently lift Poppy and place her inside, strapping her in and covering her with the soft white blanket that was a gift from Rosemary and Ebony. 

Damon moves towards me, and helps me from the bed before placing me gently into the wheelchair.  He had taken all our things to the car earlier so all that was left was my bag, and the extra things he brought with him, which he hooks over the handles, and places Poppy's car seat on my lap. 

We stop at the reception area to collect the forms that I have to give to the midwife, and for them to make sure all of Poppy's bands had been removed. When everyone is satisfied that we are all okay, and we have thanked and said goodbye to the nurses, we make our way to the car. 

We are finally going home.

****

We pull up to our house and the drive is packed. It seems every family member and friend are here to greet us. Damon growls when he sees this. He’s not happy having people here. Frowning at him, I grab his hand. 

“What’s wrong?” I question.

“I don’t want to share you and Poppy. It seems like I haven’t had a moment alone with you both,” he gripes. I laugh at him. I know what he means but we’ve spent every night together in the hospital, my husband refusing to leave me, and we visited our daughter all the time.

“It won’t be for long, and they love her too Damon. We can’t keep her locked away forever. Plus we’ll finally be alone when everyone leaves,” I say in a wobbly voice. Fear begins to build. We’re going to be taking care of our precious baby alone, no nurses to help, no parents. It’s just us and Poppy.

“Hey, hey, hey. We’ll have none of that. We’ve got this, beauty. You’ve already shown you’re a natural with her.”

“But–”

“No. No buts baby. We’ve. Got. This,” he growls, passionately.

I nod and pull myself together. He’s right.

We’ve got this.

****

After Damon helped me from the car, and assisted me getting into the house, he became the perfect host. Flora, George, and Spencer were quick to hug me before turning their attention to the newest member of the Hunt family. They’re as in love with her as Damon and I are.

Tom and Lacy were next to fuss over me, followed by Wes, Sofia, and Faith. Faith let me know she has Damon’s Christmas presents with her in her car. I thanked her and asked how she is after everything that happened with Simon. That brought the whole situation to everyone’s attention and it was an unhappy conversation with a happy ending.

It turns out Leona spotted Simon stalking me and used him to her advantage. Telling him he’d get to have me once and for all if he helps split Damon and me up. She convinced him to tie Faith up and wait for me to arrive. She slipped up and he realised her real intension. I don’t think Simon tried to run me off the road. He was freaking out that she was coming to get me. His panic led to drastic actions to get me to stop the car. It resulted in him losing his life, and for that I’m remorseful.

Leona took me to a wasteland area her parents own and planned to take my life. This was confirmed by Steen, whom Leona knocked out when he’d heard her plans after she’s stabbed her mum to death. He ultimately ended up saving me, guiding Damon and Spence and the emergency services to us.

She was crazier than people gave her credit for.

She ruined my sister’s life, and tried to take mine.

She didn’t succeed.

Damon ordered take away for everyone to eat but my exhaustion soon took over and our friends left early, leaving just family behind. Damon, George, and Spence are sitting at the bar, talking quietly amongst themselves.

Flora is sitting in the chair, softly talking to her granddaughter, making me smile at her. She’s a wonderful grandma already.

I have so many things to get my head around, Pops’ sexuality being one of them, but some things I don’t want to think about ever again.

Leona Goodridge will not get another moment of my thought space after today, she’s not worth it. My mother will not get another thought either. After speaking in length to Damon whilst in the hospital I decided not to seek her out. She made the choice to leave and if she ever decides to look for me I will deal with her then, but I only want to concentrate on my future, and my mum and Leona will not be part of that.

They are my past.

Pops’ sexuality doesn’t bother me in the slightest. I just wish he would have told me because it would have made no difference in my love for him. He was the best dad I could ever wish for, and I still miss him dearly.

I’d like to get to know Officer Smith more, get to know the man my dad loved, but I’m not sure how to ask that of him.

The sofa dipping beside me pulls me from my thoughts, and a soft hand grasps mine. I turn at look at my mother in law holding Poppy, giving her a soft smile.

“Ella, I know this might not be my place, but I’d like to discuss something with you. You know I see you as my own daughter and if I had given birth to you I would be staying with you without question, but I’d like to offer my help,” she says softly. “The first few days will be hard getting a new routine, and with your injuries I’m sure Damon will try to tear himself in half to take care of both you and Poppy. I’d like to help if you’d let me. Would you like me to stay a few days? I promise not to get in your way and turn into a monster in law,” she says with a laugh. “I can stay a few nights. I’ve discussed it with George already and he’s happy with it if you are.”

Her words knock the breath from me. I’ve never dreamed of what it would be like to have a real mum, and Flora is everything and more I could ever want. She’s loving, caring, and kind.

“I would love that. It would be wonderful. Thank you. I’m not sure what Damon will say,” I say choked up but with a giggle.

“You leave him to me. I can deal with his grumpy self dear,” she replies. She turns her attention to the men, and calls their conversation to a halt. “Damon, can you make up a guest room for me please, close to my grandbaby. Spencer please fetch my suitcase from the car for me, and George come and give me some sugar. I’m going to miss you.”

A giggle bursts past my lips at the different expressions on the Hunt men’s faces. George looks delighted for his wife, and lustful at her words. Spencer looks confused, and my husband is stunned silent.

“Chop, chop,” Flora says.

“What are you talking about?” Damon growls.

“Watch your tone with your mother,” George growls in reply.

“What the fuck is happening?” Spencer questions.

“I’ve offered help for the next few days. Sleep will be impossible for you, Damon, trying to take care of an injured wife and a newborn without a routine. I plan to help you get into a routine and spend as much time as possible with my grandbaby. I’ve talked it over with your dad and he’s okay with this. I asked your wife if she’d like me to stay and she would. You have no choice in the matter. Now go and sort the guest room out, and Spencer go fetch my suitcase.”

Flora begins fussing over Poppy again, ending the discussion. The men quickly move to do as they’ve been bid. George joins us on the sofa, giving Flora the sugar she demanded. When Spencer returns he has two suitcases. Flora frowns at them and looks at him in question.

“Two suitcases mum, seriously? Anyone would think you’re moving in,” Spencer grumbles.

“Actually son, one is mine,” George declares. He brings his gaze to mine. “I can’t sleep without my wife so I’ll be staying too.” I nod my head at him, not worried about them both staying. It will be nice having the family together, seeing as we missed Christmas celebrations.

“It will be like Christmas we missed,” I say.

“In that case, I’m going to fetch some stuff, and I’m staying too,” Spencer states. I laugh at him and shut my eyes.

“Okay,” I reply sleepily.

Hearing the front door open and close lets me know he’s deadly serious. I listen to Flora and George cooing over their granddaughter and give in to my tiredness.

Sleep finally overtakes me.