Beautifully Damaged (39 page)

"I understand, sir." Trace started to rise again but my dad stopped him.

"You don't though, Trace, please let me finish. I love Ember with all that I am; she's my life, and not just any one will do for her. As a father you'll understand when you and Ember have a daughter. How you will know that no one will ever be good enough for her and how you absolutely will not allow her to settle. Trace, look at me son."

Trace did and I saw the tears in his eyes as he listened to my father.

"What I'm trying to say to you is that when I look at you I see my wife. I see a person of incredible integrity and honor. What I don't see is the sick son of a bitch who was your father and I don't know how to make you understand that -- to make you see that you are nothing like the man who donated his sperm -- except for putting it into terms that you can understand." My dad met and held Trace's stare before he offered, "I would be honored to call you son."

My dad placed his hand on Trace's shoulder before he added, "You, Trace, are very, very worthy."

Trace just sat there, his head lowered, and then I saw the shaking of his shoulders and realized that he was crying. I stood to go to him but my dad beat me to it as he lowered to his haunches, wrapped his arms around Trace, and offered him his shoulder. When Trace -- big, hard, bad-ass Trace -- turned and wrapped his arms around my dad and really cried on my dad's shoulder, I started crying in earnest because I knew, somehow, that my dad had finally gotten through to him.

My dad and uncle left after breakfast since they wanted to follow up on a few things but my thoughts were on Trace. He was in his office, had been since the talk with my dad, so after I cleaned up breakfast I walked down the hall and knocked on the door. He didn't answer so I walked in and found him behind his desk. He was turned from me, looking out the window, but I knew he was aware of my presence since it wasn't possible for us to be in the same room and not feel the other on every imaginable level.

"My nightmares, the ones recently, they're not about my past or my dad..." He turned then and looked me right in the eye.

"...they're about losing you. For twenty-eight years I believed I was a good for nothing and was self-destructive because deep down I believed I wasn't worthy and then you came into my life. Someone who lost so much because of the depravity of my family and yet it was you, even knowing what linked us, that made me feel good about myself and gave me hope to believe that I wasn't a worthless piece of a shit."

He stood then and came around his desk so he could pull me into his arms.

"Your mom tried to rescue me but it was you who saved me, Ember. The daughter of the woman killed because of my family is the one who saved me."

"Fate, Trace."

"I never believed in Fate but I do believe that you're right." He pressed a kiss to my head before he lowered to his one knee.

"This wasn't how I planned on asking you. I intended to get up on stage and make it a grand gesture but my feelings for you run so deeply that I think this way is more appropriate."

He reached into his pocket for a small black leather box. My heart was pounding in my chest as Trace opened it to reveal a beautiful platinum, oval-cut diamond ring. The sight of it being held in his hands had tears filling my eyes.

"There are so many reasons I could list as to why I want you in my life but the three most important are I respect you, I admire you and I love you. Marry me, Ember."

My tears were spilling down my face as I lifted my shaking hand and watched, with love, as Trace slid his ring onto my finger.

"Yes, I'll marry you."

He stood and wrapped me in his arms, lifting me up and spinning me around in circles. "You won't regret it, Ember, I'll make you deliriously happy: every second of every day."

"You already do, Trace."

Later that day, my dad and I were reviewing the contract that Lucien had messengered over while Trace and my uncle went to pick up Chelsea.

"I think this is a wonderful idea, Ember." He looked at me and smiled before he asked, "Am I going to meet this mysterious Lucien Black?"

"Actually..." the door bell rang. "...yes."

I walked to the door and pulled it open for Lucien. He stepped into the apartment and lifted my hand but stopped when he saw the ring on my finger. His eyes moved to mine as a smile touched his lips.

"Congratulations."

"Thank you."

He brushed his lips over my knuckles and then his attention moved to behind me. I stepped back and kept Lucien's hand as I turned to my dad.

"Dad, Lucien Black, Lucien my dad Shawn Walsh."

"Hello, sir, it's very nice to meet you," Lucien said as he walked to my dad and held out his hand.

"Please, call me Shawn. It's nice to meet you. Ember and I were just reviewing the contract you had sent over. Thank you for helping her make this possible."

Lucien's eyes found mine before he said, "It's my pleasure."

My dad grinned and then he added, "I'm not a lawyer but the contract looks good to me, in fact, it seems as if it was written with Ember's interests in mind and not your own."

Lucien's reply to that was to say, "She's my friend."

"I signed it so I suppose we can setup those meetings with the contractors," I said.

"Absolutely. When are you free?"

"Any time. I'm eager to get the ball rolling."

"How about tomorrow?"

"Perfect."

"I'll come for you around eleven?"

"...sounds great."

He turned to my dad. "It was very nice meeting you, sir, I mean Shawn."

"...likewise, Lucien."

"Wait, can you stay? We're having a small celebratory dinner, stay."

"I don't want to intrude."

"...you're not, stay." I insisted.

His smile was dazzling before he said, "I'd love to."

I called Rafe, Luke and Trent so by the time Trace and my uncle returned home with Chelsea, we had five additional people in the apartment. We were all in the kitchen preparing dinner. Kelly was just going bonkers for my ring; and it was a masterpiece made even more so because it was placed on my finger by Trace. As soon as Chelsea entered the kitchen, she ran right to me and threw her arms around me.

"You're going to be my sister for real."

"Yes, I am."

"I always wanted a sister." Chelsea pulled back and her smile was breathtaking.

"Chelsea, I would like to introduce you to my dad." Chelsea's eyes moved to my dad and I saw as nervousness filled her but she walked over to him and extended her hand.

"Hello, sir."

The look on my dad's face as he looked at Chelsea almost broke my heart because I knew he was thinking about all that she had suffered. He moved to pull her into his arms and I saw her stiffen, saw as Trace reacted, and then quite suddenly her arms reached up to wrap around my dad and from that moment on Chelsea became like a second daughter to him.

The following day, Lucien and I sat in our newly purchased building as four different contractors presented their visions to us. I liked them all but, McAllister Associates, was the closest to what I envisioned.

While Lucien worked out the details, I sat there thinking about the previous evening. We introduced my dad and uncle to Wii and they were addicted, in fact I wouldn't be surprised if they purchased their own Wii when they returned home. What I really liked watching was Trace and Chelsea because they had a family. The ten of us were a family and for two people who really never had the experience, it was so nice to watch them blossom because of it.

I looked around the deserted warehouse and I couldn't wait to see the transformation. I couldn't wait to sit in the front row for Trace's very first cooking lesson. The thought of him, the tattooed- fighter, teaching a bunch of people how to make pasta put a smile on my face. He'd always have the hard edge, that untouchable quality to his character because it was who he was, but to have a part in making his dream a reality, yes, I very much couldn't wait to see that.

I watched Lucien as my thoughts detoured to Trace's parents. The night that Trace begged for help, his mom was unresponsive basically forcing Trace to help his sister himself: an action that took them out of the house on the very same night that Trace's parents were killed. It was just too improbable that it was a home invasion, it was intentional and every time I ran the scenarios in my head, the only one that made any sense to me was that Victoria refused to help her children because she wanted them out of the house. She wanted them gone because she intended to take care of her husband, personally. Especially learning that she was trying to help my mom with saving her children, yes, I think Victoria killed Douglas but what I didn't know was who the hell killed Victoria and why?

I had yet to share this suspicion with Trace because he had quite enough to deal with at that time but I did pass it along to my uncle and I wasn't surprised to learn that he was thinking along the same lines. Of all the players in the game, none of them had a motive to kill Victoria, so it was more than likely that her killer was still out there, an unknown.

In my mom's death, I knew the evidence that Trace uncovered pointed to Douglas, more specifically his car, but I was still hung up on motive. The man didn't seem that particular. He was depraved but not picky and though he was a scumbag, he didn't strike me as a killer. I wasn't as convinced that he was behind the wheel of that car but whoever it was knew him or, at the very least, had access to his car.

From almost the beginning, Trace's and my families were linked and though the connection was not a good one, without it, I would never have known him. I was deeply saddened for all that he and Chelsea had endured, for all that my dad, Uncle Josh and I had, but in the end, I got Trace. I was pulled from that when I heard Lucien say, "We're all done here, Ember."

"Okay."

I stood and started towards him as he reached for my hand and offered, "Work starts in a week."

"What's their estimate for time?"

"...five months."

"So maybe we can open in early November?"

"Yes."

"Cool."

That night, I stood in Trace's corner with my dad and uncle watching Trace fight and I had to say I really loved seeing my name over his heart, and as petty as it was, I really liked that all the other babes in the room saw it, too.

Even better, between every round, he walked right over to me to kiss me, hard on the mouth, further staking his claim on me and mine on him. It wasn't even a year that we'd been together but he was so deeply entwined in my life that I couldn't imagine life without him.

As I considered that, I had a passing thought of Lena. I wondered if she was still with Todd: a more self-destructive relationship I never saw. To think that Todd and Dane, on paper, were perfect with their ivy-league educations and prosperous families yet Trace was by far the superior man and human being. Maybe Trace was finally seeing that -- seeing that he wasn't who he was because of his background but despite it.

Trace approached me in that loose-limbed stride of his. I knew he won the match but I wasn't thinking about that as I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. There was a smile on his face, when he pulled back, as he reached up to touch my face with his fingers.

"What was that for?" he asked.

"I love you."

He reached for my hand that wore his ring and pressed a kiss to it. "I love seeing you wear this."

"I love wearing it."

Rafe walked over grinning like a fool. "I'm the best man, Ember."

I looked at Trace. "You asked him?"

"He didn't really give me the chance, nagging me like a school girl. I finally relented because I couldn't take it anymore."

Despite his words, he was looking at Rafe with affection. I had learned from Trace that Rafe was the first person he had met when he moved to New York at the tender age of fifteen. They were both family-less, and on their own, so desperation brought them together but friendship kept them together. Rafe had also been integral in not only getting Trace and me together but keeping us together. I couldn't think of a better man to stand up with Trace at our wedding.

"We need to set a date, Ember," Trace said.

"...I'm for as soon as possible but the chapel isn't available until October."

"October what?"

I glanced over at my dad before I answered Trace, "...31st."

"Done."

I looked up at that. "Seriously, you're okay with getting married on Halloween?"

"Absolutely."

My dad hollered like a cowboy as he reached for his phone. "I'll call the pastor."

I was smiling at my dad's enthusiasm when I turned my attention back to Trace and said, "We only have a few months to pull this off."

"As long as you say 'I do' I don't care about the details."

"I need a dress."

"I don't know, that number you wore on my birthday was really very nice."

I blushed and his eyes burned with fire. "Yes, that outfit with this blush, perfect."

"You are incorrigible."

"Only with you," he whispered before his mouth covered mine.

That night Trace, my dad and uncle sat in the living room watching a baseball game while I worked in the office. I was searching for wedding gowns. I had hoped to wear my mom's but she didn't have one. She and my dad had gone to the justice of the peace and so her gown had been a white sundress and her veil had been white daisies in her hair. I wanted the perfect dress that reflected me and so here I was Googling wedding gowns. I was grateful for the reprieve when my cell phone rang about an hour into my search. I glanced at the display and absently noted that the number was a private one.

"Hello."

There was no answer but I could hear the person breathing over the line. I waited for the person to apologize for calling the wrong number or just hang up but, no, whoever it was lingered on the line; it was more than a little creepy.

"Who's there?" I couldn't actually believe that I asked that since it was an exchange I'd seen countless times in slasher films and every time it just irritated the hell out of me. If the person wanted you to know who was on the other end of the line, they wouldn't be silent. I could only offer the excuse that I was a bit freaked out and so my brain was short circuiting; the experience gave me a whole new appreciation for the countless victims on the silver screen. I didn't say another word and hung up the phone.