Waking in that dark night, sensing something stirring next to him, listening to that small breathing, he turned to the night lamp, flicking it on. Turning back to Armando kneeling on the sheets, his eyes wide. Gabe woke up too, blinking at the light.
Damian looked at the boy. “What’s up? Had a bad dream?”
No answer. His legs squeezed together tight.
Damian nudged him gently. “Come, lie down.” He sat up when Armando didn’t obey, that lost sleep tugging at him with a vague irritation. “What’s wrong?” No answer, so he sighed and lifted him up. “Come…” His eyes a bit wide on that dark stain on the sheets, on his pants. “Oh…” He put him on his feet, flinging the covers back. A larger stain under it. Meeting Gabe’s eyes. Damian got up, plucking Armando off the bed, putting him on the floor. “No big deal.” His smile died when he saw the small boy lean on the bed, trembling, his hands under his head. It took a fleeting moment for reality to dawn on Damian and his stomach filled with ice. That burning anger licking up his chest straight away.
He tamed it, kneeling next to him, and put his hand gently on that slender shoulder. “Hey… come here…” His voice, soft. Waiting until Armando moved, laced his arms around his neck. He cradled him, that silent boy. “Accidents happen, okay? This is nothing. Nobody is going to hurt you here, do you understand?” He pushed him away a bit, searching those dark eyes. “Okay? Get it?”
A small nod, still filled with terror.
Damian looked at Gabe. “Gabe is going to help you clean up. Go. We’ll sleep in the other bed.” He pushed him into Gabe’s arms, watching him scoop Armando up, soothe him in Spanish. Pinching his lips, but he stripped the bed, throwing the sheets on the floor.
Walking to the wardrobe, he got spare pajamas out, taking them to the bathroom. Hearing Armando’s laughter, barely there, but Gabe had managed to make him smile again, playing in the shower, chasing him with the spray. He dressed him then and put him in that clean bed.
Damian brought a glass of warm honeyed milk. “Drink this. It will make you sleep better.” Watching him swallow, lick his lips. He lay down then, his dark eyes on Damian and Gabe. Damian smoothed his hair back and put the pig in his arms. “Big day today… you’ll feel better tomorrow.”
Waiting until his eyelids fluttered under his caresses, watching him fall asleep. He left, joining Gabe in that dark living room, the lights only seeping in from that orange sky. Blowing a breath, his hands on his hips.
Grinning at Gabe’s small smile. “Fuck.” That grin dying with his thoughts. “And we don’t know half of it.”
“He told me… I guess it’s easier in Spanish… that he got spanked every time he peed in bed.”
Damian looked at him, his face a smooth mask of subdued wrath. “Fuck. Fuck her, and that crazy fucking abuela, too.” His heart clenching, watching his hand, which he had furled into a fist. Remembering when he had hit Cassie and Kevin, whacking their backsides each time he had had enough, that he had snapped. The thought impossible now, his shame scorching his skin. He sighed against the tightness in his chest. “Let’s go to bed… get some sleep.”
Gabe stepped to him, pulling him into an embrace. Just holding him until his arms went around his back too, his head to his shoulder. No words needed, standing in that silence, that feeble orange light of that artificial sky.
Chapter 28
Damianwasduetomeet Christine at her favorite café, almost a month after their first encounter, walking there in that chill breeze which caught his grey wool coat.Fuck. Hating the whole weather already, his eyes half on his phone, reading his lawyer’s email. A pile of lawsuits against the papers which had published their photos, bold headlines. Bourne’s bastard. Even if they had blurred Armando’s face, it had sent him into a fit of rage.No matter. He had enough money to make them regret that they drew breath. Settlement offers pouring in.More money. He swiped the phone, gutted, shivering in that cool breeze. Pushing the door open, shedding his coat into waiting hands, gestured straight in under that crystal mirror ceiling and gold chandelier. Straight to Christine’s table in the back.
She rose and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Oooh… chilly. You walked?”
He sat, putting his phone on the table. “Yeah…”
“Sporty. You could have taken a cab.”
Damian’s mouth pulled up. “I don’t do enough as it is… to keep some sort of shape.”
She watched him, leaning back in his black shirt, that tan still there on that hard skin. Those wrinkles carved by sea and sun and salt around his cool eyes. Her lips curled up. “You look fabulous. Even better with age. I told you.”
He smiled at her, unable to hold any grudge. She gestured the waiter over and ordered for them. Damian didn’t care, his fingers drumming on the table, his eyes roaming that surreal interior. What for…His eyes went to Christine when she reached over that dark wooden table and caught his hand.
Running her fingers on his callouses. “Is this hard, restless hand ready to sign?”
“For sure.” He almost laughed but left his hand, her touch comforting. She patted his hand and pulled her fingers out. Watching the waiter put their coffees in front of them, two slices of cake.
Damian rolled his eyes softly. “Cake…”
“Of course. It’s celebration time.” She piled some sugar in her coffee, her eyes asking, but he waved it away. “Alright. So, how are things? Chit-chat before we get to business.”
“I’m spending my money.”
She laughed lightly, cutting a piece of the cake with her fork, lifting it between her perfect dark cherry lips. “Like you could.”
Damian grinned. “Fuck. It just keeps growing, even if I don’t even look anymore.”
“Investing?”
