That Emerald Vow (The Crimson Creed #2)

11. Chapter Eleven

I make it to the master bathroom and shut the door, leaning on it for stability. Looking up, I see my reflection, there are whipped cream specs all over my face. I walk to the faucet and turn the cold water on as I begin to lather cleanser on my face. The circular motion slowly drifts me into a distant memory I’d rather forget of the last time I was close to a man whom I trusted. And I can feel it . . . I’m starting to trust Damon.

I finish washing my hands in Elias’s bathroom and plop down next to him on his bed. “Hey, I think I’m going to leave in like thirty. It’s getting late.”

We started dating junior year but decided to break up recently, a few months shy of graduating. When we first started, it was a whirlwind. I finally felt safe—protected. It was the first time I truly trusted someone after what my uncle did to me.

Sadly, our demons were too much for us to handle, and as much as we care for each other, being together had become more harmful than helpful. He has his own things he had to work through, and I have mine. That doesn’t stop us from sleeping together from time to time because it is just easier—safer. But recently, I’ve become sick and tired of the cycle and am ready to move on.

Elias smirks at me as he grabs his semi-hard cock through his pants. “I know what we could do.”

I force myself not to frown before saying, “I’m not in the mood. Maybe we can watch something until then.” What I should have said was that I didn’t want to do this anymore. That if we are going to be friends, that’s all we should be. But I don’t want to hurt his feelings.

“Baby, I can help you get in the mood. Come on!” he says, leaning over and kissing my neck. My body is used to his touch being sweet and warm, but something about this time fills me with an underlying discomfort.

I lie frozen in place, my back on the bed as he undresses and takes my pants off. It all happens in slow motion and too fast all at the same time.

If I just let it happen, then it doesn’t count . . . I try to tell myself.

My body goes through the motions, but I feel like I am floating above my body. Not really there.

I want this to happen. This is Elias, and it’s like every other time.

My body goes limp as he goes in and out, grunting in pleasure while a steady stream of silent tears fall from either side of my face.

I don’t sob. I don’t scream. I don’t say a word. I feel so fucking numb to the whole experience, willing it to be over.

I’m not even sure he realizes as his face is buried in my neck.

When he finally finishes, he looks down at me, and his face goes from the excitement of completion to absolute horror. He realizes what he did, but neither one of us wants to acknowledge it. If we did, it would make it real. Something passes in secret through our silence.

This is like every other time . . .

His eyes shine with sorrow and disgust at himself, and we both continue to not say a word as I wipe my tears and get dressed.

It took me a long time to come to terms with that night being non-consensual. I felt like a hollow shell, but refused to acknowledge it. It was not what I expected rape to feel like because I had experienced that with my uncle. There was pleading and screaming and sobbing. But this “gray” area, I called it—I wasn’t sure how to process.

Because the truth is, there is no gray area. I want it or I don’t. And I am allowed to change my mind at any point.

I bite my lip at reminiscing over the past because I feel safe again, but it’s also causing me fear of being hurt, yet again. Something deep in my gut tells me Damon is different though. He has shown me nothing but kindness.

I splash my face one last time with cold water, allowing it to cool me down. If it wasn’t for that damn oven timer, I think that kiss would have happened. And that may be something I want, but I don’t need to figure it out all right now. What I need to do is get back downstairs and allow myself to enjoy this moment. The rest, we’ll figure out in time.

Maybe it’s for the best that the kiss didn’t happen. We don’t want to further complicate all of this. Plus, like I told Lily the other day, maybe it’ll work out for her being a Fury and being with Adrian. I don’t think I’ll have such luck. I still don’t know how or when she’ll tell him. I don’t trust people in general, let alone with telling them my best friend and I are serial killing vigilantes. Even though I meant what I said about trusting Damon, I don’t think I can trust him with every broken and depraved part of me.

Maybe you can, says a small part of me.

Once I come back from washing the whipped cream off my face, Damon has finished plating all the food and has already started to clean up.

I must be giving off a worry-worthy look because Damon asks, “Are you okay? Your eyebrows are furrowed again.”

“Yeah. I’m okay.” I give him a generic smile as I help him clean up.

“What happened today, Char?” he asks, putting his hand over mine.

How does he know ?

“What do you mean?” I ask.

Now his eyebrows furrow. “Before you left to go upstairs, you said you needed this. Why?”

My stomach ties in knots. How do I explain the crazy that is my family and life? Simple. I don’t.

I reflect it back on him as I pull my hand back. “How about you, huh? You said you’ve been better.” I’m not yelling, but I’m definitely snarky with my words.

His face turns stoic as he contemplates how to respond. After several painstaking moments, he says, “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

My mouth opens in shock. I didn’t expect him to give in. I really thought we’d both drop this and move on. “What?”

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” he repeats. I can see the pained expression on his face. This is hard for him. I don’t have to share everything, right?

“You go first,” I say, hesitating.

He closes his eyes as he takes a deep breath. “Do you mind if we keep cleaning as we do this? This is . . . hard.”

“Sure. Of course.” I understand that idle fingers can lead to more anxiety, and this is stressful enough.

“I found out my mother has cancer,” he says. I’m in the middle of opening the bottom of the blender over the sink when I turn around to look at him, finding his back is to me. “Before you worry, we’re not close. She’s actually in prison.”

Prison? What the hell did she do?

“Now, what she did . . . that’s a story for another time. But I wasn’t raised in a warm, loving home like most.” I guess we have that in common. “It led to me making a lot of poor decisions growing up to make ends meet and provide for my little sister, Daniella. My mother was dangerous. She did nothing but buy drugs and sleep around in order to be able to get high. Eventually, her bad decisions landed her in prison . . .”

Would he think I’m a dangerous woman too? Would he hate me?

He takes the rinsed-off blender and helps me load the dishwasher. I begin putting some of the things away in the fridge, allowing him the space to continue. “I recently found out that Dani has been in contact with her . . .

“I got a phone call from her yesterday that our mother’s lawyer called and that they’re considering a compassionate release.” Damon stops moving and lets out a pained scoff as he leans on the counter. “ Compassionate release. Fucking bitch doesn’t have a single compassionate bone in her body. But she gets cancer and . . . and . . .” He chokes back an angry cry. I want to go to him, to hold him. But something tells me that’s not what he needs. At least not yet. He shakes off his emotions before continuing, “Anyway, I met my lawyer today to hash it out, and I think we have a game plan. But we have to wait a few weeks for the hearing . . . I just want to keep Dani safe. She doesn’t even know half of what my mother is capable of.” He goes back to wiping the counter down, but his body radiates with raw emotion.

“My mother isn’t great either.” I quickly add, “Not to compare! But she’s part of the reason I’ve had a shitty day . . .” I snort out a fake laugh. “A shitty life. I grew up in a cookie cutter household. The American dream with a white picket fence, both parents, successful father with a rising business and a perfect homemaker mother. But behind closed doors, it wasn’t the case.” I pause, wondering how much I’m willing to say. The topic is one I’ve only felt comfortable talking to Lily about. But as much as it’s painful to talk about, it’s also easy to talk to him. It’s not the same story, but I have a feeling he understands. “My mother is a bitch, to put it lightly. Nothing is good enough for her.”

At this point, we’re both done cleaning and are just standing around the island. He looks directly at me, nodding as I speak. “My dad was cheating on her. The money and power of owning the growing business got to his head. He wasn’t a terrible father to me, but he was also never a good husband. I went to visit them today. It was a long drive there and back, and an even longer dinner.”

“Why do you still go?” he asks, curious but not judgemental.

I smile, but it comes out pained. “‘Cause they’re my family.” Even if they don’t act like it. “And despite my terrible relationship with her and not seeing my dad often, I care for them because they’re my parents . . .”

“Does he know?” My heart stops. “Does he know how terrible she is?” I thought for a second he knew about Uncle Demetri. Which is stupid because how could he?

“No. She is good at giving a great housewife and motherly impression. Only I see her true colors,” I say, looking at my hands resting on the counter through tears. I quickly blink them away.

“I hate her.” I gasp at Damon’s words. He’s found his way to my side of the island. “You are so beautiful, kind, and perfectly you .” He picks up my hands and kisses the back of them. “I think part of you knows that. But I get how hard it can be when that nagging voice comes from the one person who should’ve been protecting you, telling you otherwise.”

I smile at him, new tears forming in my eyes. These are for the validation I feel in his words. “I hate her too,” I croak out. “You are such an amazing and sweet man. Maybe a little playful.” I laugh which makes him laugh too. “Someone who I am loving to get to know.”

“Man, our mothers did a number on us, right? We’re so fucking awesome.” He snorts. I don’t think he believes he’s a great guy; that makes me sad for him.

I take the hand he’s holding. Flipping it, I bring his hand to my cheek and lean into it. “It’s their loss. It’s your mother’s loss.”

Damon rubs his thumb over my cheek. “My little gem, how precious you truly are.”

I smile at him. “You’re not so bad yourself, Day.”

He flattens his lips in a thin line before saying, “She used to call me that.”

My mouth drops open as an anvil falls on my chest. “Oh my God. I’m sorry! I’ll stop.” I’m such an ass.

“Don’t you dare.” He grabs my face by placing his other hand on my cheek too. “Hearing you say it feels perfect.”

“But your m—” I start.

“Hearing you say it is different.”

Feeling like I owe him an explanation, I say, “I call you ‘Day’ because you’re so dark and moody. Head to toe, you’re a grunge, motorcycle-riding badass.” He smirks at me. “Shut up, I’m speaking objectively.” But I still wink at him. “Yeah, you’re a goofball and silly. But you’re so much more than that. Your humanity radiates from you—it shines like daylight. So it’s a play on that and your name.”

His eyes fill with so much emotion. “She ruined it for me, but you are redeeming it.” I hear the secret “she ruined me” behind his words because that’s what I think about my own mother. “But you . . . you, my little gem . . .” He pauses to smile at me. “You are the wonderful reason who is healing that little boy. Thank you.”

“How?” I ask as my heart thunders in my chest. I don’t disagree with him, because without having the words for it, I know I feel the same way. These past few days have left me feeling seen and taken care of in a way I didn’t think possible.

“I wish I could tell you. But all I know is that getting to know you has been the best part of my day since seeing you at that damn lounge,” he rasps.

I feel coolness wash over my veins. That’s everything a girl ever wants to hear, but instead of filling me with happiness, it fills me with fear. So I do what I do best, I ruin it before it can ruin me. “This friendship has been the best thing for me too.”

I can see the quick flash of pain at the word friendship. He brings my face towards him and kisses my forehead before pulling me into his side. “Come on, that’s enough heavy talk. Let’s go watch a movie and enjoy all this food.”

I roll my eyes at him. “It always goes back to the food.”

He laughs in response as we gather the food and drinks to the living room. After several minutes, we settle on watching a comedic action movie.

Halfway through the movie, we’ve gravitated towards each other until his right arm is around me and I’m nestled into his chest like it was molded just for me. Neither of us acknowledge it and just let ourselves enjoy this. There are no words to express how nice it is to just sit and be with someone. No need for words to fill the space. Just knowing they’re there in this moment with you. There’s a calming comfort in it, and he has very quickly become my favorite comfort.

I don’t know when I fell asleep, but I woke up in my bed with the comforter on. Damon must have brought me up here. I sit up and realize he’s not here—not that I would have expected him to be lying in bed with me. I find a note on my nightstand and start laughing out loud at this crazy new man in my life.