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Jim looks different now as he opens the door the Damon’s mansion. He’s a hell of a lot more gaunt. More cheekbones, less fat. Sunken eyes in his face. He clearly hasn’t eaten or slept much in weeks.
In that case, I guess I must look in a pretty similar state. I can’t blame him for looking like a husk of his former self.
I’ve not eaten or slept much either.
“Ava.”
Jim’s voice comes out as a soft sigh. Almost a relief. I think he was dreading who he might be opening the door to. More journalists sniffing around? More bad news?
“It’s good to see you, Jim,” I reply sadly.
“Come inside,” he says, taking a step back to allow me room. “You must be tired.”
“You havenoidea, Jim, just how tired I am.”
The man smiles wryly. “Oh, I think I have some idea.”
“Upstairs?” I ask, nodding up.
Jim merely nods back in response.
And I find myself slowly taking the stairs up and up into the depths of Damon’s mansion.
This was where I was for all that time I was under that strange contract – all that time waiting for whatever that gangster was going to do to me under the terms of our agreement.Anything he wanted, that’s what I signed up for. How I was scared of him back then, but also secretly thrilled at the prospect of being his captive.
All under this roof.
And all not very long ago at all, even though it seems like years after what’s gone down recently.
All of the shit that’s happened...
Luke’s house.
Eugene.
Theknifeand thestabbingand thebloodand thetears.
There have been times in the past few weeks I thought I would never step foot in this mansion ever again, until today.
Damon’s top-class lawyers are making sure that Eugene is going to get locked up for a very long time. There ismorethan enough evidence that those well-paid lawyers can play around with in order to fuck up the former assassin and send him away. They’ve assured me that they do not intend to involve Luke in their prosecution. He won’t be implicated in the sins of his father. Like I suspected, he didn’t know anything about his dad’s past, nor about his role in the gang shooting of Damon’s godfather. Luke is guilty of being a shitty ex, but not of murder. I’m happy that he’s not going to get wrapped up in this crazy court case. He saved me by tackling his dad, and that’s got to count for something.
Thisis the justice that Eugene deserves: holed up in some horrible place for the rest of his life. That’s much morejustice than a swift knife in the ribs. He’s going to rot for the shit he pulled.
And, surprisingly, yesterday I received a handwritten letter from Luke apologizing for the way he acted toward me and for the actions of his dad. It was honest and heartfelt and detailed. It seems like even assholes can sometimes have moments of self-reflection.
But I don’t want him to blame himself for the actions of his dad - there has already been enough generational pain here, and I don’t want to cause more. Too many people have been tied up in the actions of a few bad men.
I make my way to the top of the stairs and past my old bedroom - that room I spent so much time in – and continue to Damon’s master bedroom. I glance inside his dark, wooden office, expecting to see him pacing around in that serious way he does, but of course he isn’t there.
I should know he wouldn’t be around here.
I wish he was.
That tall, gorgeous, dark man I had grown to care for... I wish he was wandering around that room or sitting behind his desk hashing out some deal in his criminal enterprise.
Anythingto see him like that again.
I remember what it was like the first time I walked in here. The awe I felt. The overwhelming nature of the crime boss and the titillating fact that he wanted me to be his mistress. All those nights longing for him in the guest bedroom. All those nights we shared the same bed. Sitting under the stars together.
