Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 52277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
He stumbled back a step and fell onto the sofa. Angie followed to sit beside him, and picked up his hand, patting it gently.
****
Damian walked through the airport parking lot and climbed into his car. He started the motor just as his cell phone rang.
He let the engine idle as he answered the call. "What's up?" he questioned shortly, wanting nothing more than to get back to Angie as quickly as possible.
"And good-fucking-evening to you too, big brother," Nick snarled sarcastically.
Damian blew out a breath and attempted a more reasonable tone, even as he put the call on speaker and began to drive. "What's going on, Nick?"
"Where are you? Still in New York?" Nick asked in his usual bored tone of voice.
Damian glanced at the clock on the dash. "No. I'm home. Leaving the airport now."
"Very good. You can handle this shit," his brother said curtly.
Irritation bled down Damian's spine. "What shit, exactly?"
"Our dear mother is having a party right about now--"
Irritation turned into frustrated anger. "Fuck, no."
"Give me a minute. You're going to want to hear what I have to say," Nick replied as if privy to something of importance.
"And what would that be?" Damian asked with little patience.
"Your woman is here," Nick announced blandly.
"My woman?" Damian asked with a snarl.
"That's what I said, yes."
An edge of aggression raised his hackles. "How do you know about my woman?"
"I saw her here at the last party. She's the one you brought who apparently has you so fucked up that you think nobody notices when you drop off the face of the earth?"
"You're imagining things again, Nick," he denied, not wanting his brother butting into his personal business. "And you weren't even at the last party."
"I may not have shown my face, but I was there. And I saw your woman. I'm referring to the little gothic chick who's not a gothic chick anymore?"
At that spot on description, Damian's nerves took a leap. "What about her?" As he boarded the freeway, sudden tension made him head toward his mother's house instead of Angie's. Even though he didn't care for it, he acknowledged that Nick obviously knew more than Damian thought he did.
"As I was saying, she's here and she is, at this moment, sequestered in the library with a man who, as we both know, isn't you," Nick said in such a over-exaggerated, know-it-all tone that Damian wanted to plant his fist in his brother's face.
Coupled with the need to smack Nick, Damian felt such a vicious jolt of jealousy that he almost swerved the car. He took three deep breaths and concentrated on his driving.
When Damian was silent, Nick continued, "Are you on your way?"
"What do you think?" Damian snarled.
"All right then. I'll see you in a few."
"Nick, wait," Damian interjected.
"What?"
"What exactly were you going to do if I was still in New York?"
"That's an easy one, big brother. Whatever the fuck you instructed me to do. I've got your back."
Damian let out a breath. "Yeah."
His brother ended the call and Damian did the same.
****
Damian walked through his mother's home without giving anyone time to engage him in conversation. He saw Nick hovering over Courtney with a pissed-off expression on his face. He continued trekking across the room with a solitary purpose. He met his brother's stare only briefly, but it was long enough for Nick to motion with a tilt of his head toward the library, telling Damian that Angie was still in there.
He cracked his knuckles and continued crossing the carpet without breaking stride. He came to the library door and without knocking, twisted the handle and stepped inside.
He walked all the way into the room on silent feet and came up behind the sofa. Angie and the unknown man were sitting side-by-side, holding hands, heads together, engrossed in low-pitched conversation.
Rage, unlike any he'd ever experienced shot down his spine and then clawed back up his throat. He paced around to the front of the sofa and stood, his muscles braced for attack.
Angie glanced up, and more slowly, so did the young man she sat with. He was a good-looking kid, ridiculously so, and Damian about came unglued. "You have two fucking seconds, Angie. Start talking, now."
****
Angie paled when she saw the look in Damian's eyes. She'd seen him angry before, of course, but nothing to compare to this. There was no other word for it; he was incensed. Alarm trickled through her veins. "I thought you were out of town."
He took a step forward, aggression in every line of his body. "Wrong answer, babe."
At Damian's mounting fury, Angie felt Caiden jerk beside her and begin to stand up in a bid to extricate himself from her. But she continued to hold his hand, pulling on it, trying to keep him seated. Absolutely nothing good could come of him standing up in front of an enraged Damian, even if only to try to sidestep him. She attempted to speak, "This . . . this is Caiden. He's Rick's son."