Love Always, Damian Read online

  “Hey, I’m leaving, man,” I whisper to him.

  “Seriously? You’re finished already?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  He’s annoyed because while he’s been pulling all-nighters for a week, I’ve cracked a book for maybe two hours. If I don’t know the shit by now, no amount of poring over the material again is going to do any good. Besides, this week I have other things on my mind.

  “Fine. Go,” he says.

  “Later.”

  I gather my stuff and head up front to the prof. His eyes lift over the rim of his glasses to study me. I’m the first one to hand in my final, and he probably thinks I’ve done a half-assed job.

  I didn’t, though. When he checks it, he’ll find every answer as flawlessly correct as usual. I’m a Lowell, and for the last six years I haven’t been living up to that. Until now. Because of the deal I cut with the Good Doctor.

  I’ve held onto an almost perfect 4.0 GPA for the last five semesters.

  Finally, the prof nods at me and I walk out of class, leaving my junior year of college behind.

  ~*~

  It takes me an hour to get to the cemetery. After Mom and Liam died, I never stepped foot here. Not until Kate convinced me to come. It had been one of her five wishes. One through three I’d done because she was with me. Because I loved her. I promised her number four, so I followed through. Number five, though?

  Number five is impossible.

  I come here often now—day, night, whenever I need to be close to her. Even in death, Kate draws me in. To this place where she’d only trodden once when she was alive.

  I grab the three bouquets of flowers from the passenger seat and swing the door open. When Kate brought me here four years ago, I barely managed to get out of the car. Now it’s easy.

  Too fucking easy.

  I don’t even think about coming anymore. It’s automatic. Routine, like my nightly shots of whiskey.

  It shouldn’t be like this. In three short years I lost the three people I loved most. Death sucks, and I’ve had my fill.

  I slam the door closed and tread over the grass. The three identical stones jut up from the ground, and even when I’m here after dark, I don’t have a problem seeing them. They’re etched into my memory.

  The idea to have Kate buried here beside my mother and brother was entirely mine and entirely selfish. The Browdys had asked me to help with her funeral arrangements, and other than the time of the graveside service, this had been my only request. This way she’d be close to me.

  Shade from the elder tree casts a shadow over them. I stand inside its cover from the sun, facing the cold memorials. These pieces of granite have no real connection with the people they were.

  Hell, they didn’t even pick them out. Didn’t see them, yet their names, dates of birth and death are etched into them as if they’d been owned by those they claim to represent.

  Cemeteries—these stones—aren’t for the dead.

  No, they’re for the living.

  My gaze trails over the Celtic symbols engraved at the center of each one. Identical to the tattoos inked into my body. Faith. Brotherhood. Hope.

  My eyes linger on Kate’s as they usually do, and the memory of when I’d given her the trinity heart necklace pours over me.

  “It’s the Celtic symbol for hope. Now you’ll always know where to find it,” I’d told her.

  Damn. I’d given it to her so she’d think of me whenever she needed me, but really, it was I who needed her.

  I take a deep breath to hold myself together. I lost everything the day Kate died.

  I rake a hand through my hair and shut my eyes. Out here, away from everyone, I don’t have to pretend that I have a fucking clue how to live without her.

  Out here, it’s just me.

  In front of Kate’s gravestone, I lower myself to the ground, dropping the flowers at my side. My chest is empty, yet somehow, it hurts. It’s the same damn thing year after year—aching to see her smile at me just one more time. One more and I’d be satisfied, I tell myself.

  I know it’s a lie because one more smile from her would never be enough. I need to touch her, run my fingers over her warm skin and protect the hell out of her.

  But I’m a failure. I had the power within me, in my blood, to save her, and I failed.

  I can barely see the inches in front of me as I break down. Four years ago, my father sat here with me and told me the pain would never go away, but it would lessen over time.

  What a load of bullshit; the pain has only grown.

  “I miss you so damn much, Katie,” I say even though she can’t hear me. And that thought kicks me in the gut as much as anything. No matter what I say to her now, she’ll never know any of it.

  I slide my fingertips over her name: Kathryn “Katie” Browdy. Seventeen short years on this earth and I only had her last months. They were the best months of my life.

  I sit with her until the sun begins to send streaks of gold over the horizon. Even though Kate would be disappointed, I need to pick up more liquor before I head home. I have to have something to get me through this pain.

  A gust of wind rustles the dead flowers I left on their graves last week. I scoop them up and replace them with the fresh ones I brought. Daisies for my mother, some generic flowers he wouldn’t give a shit about for Liam, and red roses for Kate.

  Always red roses for my Katie.

  “Love you, Mom,” I murmur, fanning out the daisies in the vase beside her headstone.

  Then I move onto Liam’s. “Take care of my girl, man,” I tell him, then I remember how I’d taken care of his. “But if you touch her, I’ll fucking kill you.”

  I squat down and lay Kate’s roses at the base of her stone. There’s nothing I could say to her that I haven’t already said a million times. So I settle for the words I couldn’t say until just before she died. “I love you, baby. I’ll always love you.”

  ~*~

  My liquor cabinet is now well stocked, and I grab a bottle of tequila. I knock back a swig. Damn good shit right there. I pound down another on my way to the living room.

  Dylan’s probably at The Underground, grinding against the chicks who only order sex on the beach because of the name, and have had one too many. Or two too many.

  But what the hell. Finals are over, and The Underground is the place to be tonight. I might head over later after I’ve got enough of a buzz going to forget what this week means to me.

  Either way, at the end of the night my plan is to be passed out in bed, gloriously numb to the hole in my chest. I really don’t give a shit how I end up there.

  I collapse on the sofa and swing my feet up on the coffee table. Gulping down another drink of tequila, I hear my phone go off in the back pocket of my jeans. Without setting down the bottle, I twist and dig it out.

  “Hello?” I answer.

  “Damian?”

  The familiar voice smashes into my ear, and for a second, I’m paralyzed.

  Fuck. Me.

  Chapter 3

  Elizabeth

  “Damian, are you there?” I repeat since he hasn’t said anything. “It’s me, Ellie,” I say, because he won’t recognize my new Florida cell phone number. I wanted a fresh start when I left Iowa, and that included seven new digits with an 850 area code.

  A lot has changed in the last four years, and I wasn’t sure he’d remember my voice.

  “Uh, yeah. I’m here,” he finally says, and in the background, I hear the clunk of glass hitting a table.

  Inwardly, I cringe. I guess some things don’t change.

  Just hang up, Ellie. This is a stupid idea.

  I tuck my legs up under me, the wicker loveseat creaking. I should take my own advice, tell him this was a mistake, and figure something else out. Damian wasn’t the only reason I had to get away, but he was the biggest one.

  “How’ve you been, Elle?” he asks.

  He’s the only person who ever called me Elle. Liam started calling me Ellie when we bega
n to date, but I was Elizabeth to everyone else. Even now, after all this time, a flood of chills sweeps up my spine as he says it.

  I swallow, giving myself a second to reply. “I’m doing okay. You?”

  Small talk is worthless. I should either end this call or get to the point. No use allowing these tiny ripples of emotion to make themselves at home in my stomach after I’ve worked so hard to keep them at bay. Destroying them by moving fifteen hundred miles away and immersing myself in my studies didn’t work, so this is the next best thing. Really, it’s all I can do to pretend they don’t exist. I can’t let them control me again.

  “Yeah, I’m good. I’m good,” he says without conviction.

  He’s not doing good. I can hear it in his voice. I also know the timing of this phone call sucks, but I won’t be in Iowa much longer, and I need to get this over with sooner rather than later. I’ve waited as long as I could, and now I’m cutting it super close.

  The problem is I’m still debating whether or not to go through with my plans. Unfortunately, I’ve run out of options, and Damian is my absolute last choice since my friend Kerri had a family emergency and flew home to Canada last week. My plane leaves in two days, and if I don’t have something lined up, I can kiss this spectacular opportunity goodbye. Great Barrier Reef projects of this magnitude don’t come along every day. I need this to complete my thesis.

  I only wish it hadn’t come down to asking Damian a favor. Of all things, that’s what I’m left with.

  “Well, um, the reason I’m calling is that I’m in Iowa for a couple of days, and I was wondering if maybe we could…uh…meet up tomorrow morning?” I say against my better judgment. Then I hold my breath, half hoping he’ll tell me he never wants to see me again. Honestly, that would be best for both of us.

  “Tomorrow morning?” he repeats. “Yeah, sure. We can do that.”

  Dammit.

  “Great. Um…”

  “I have a place up in Ames, close to campus. I can text you the address.”

  His place? I’d been hoping for somewhere a little more…public. But before I can suggest a change in venue, the flutters rippling under my skin make their way to my mouth. “Okay.”

  I’m a glutton for punishment. So stupid.

  We don’t have to stay at his house, though, right? I mean, when I arrive there tomorrow, I’ll suggest we go out for breakfast or something. The last thing I need is to be alone with him again. The last time I let my guard down with him…well, it’s the reason I’m meeting with him in the morning.

  I’ve got to get myself under control before then. I’m twenty-four years old now, for God’s sake. I can handle this.

  I straighten my back, sitting up taller for my own encouragement, and take a deep breath. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Damian.”

  “Bye, Elle.”

  Shit. That name again.

  “Bye,” I breathe out and hang up before my heart rate doubles again. I lift my head to the porch ceiling, and suddenly I regret the whole conversation. I’m such an idiot! I shouldn’t have called him. I should have…I don’t know.

  I don’t have another choice unless I call my professor and say “Screw the trip.” If I did, I’d be out a ton of money that took me over a year to save up, but hell. Maybe that’s worth not having to face Damian.

  I mean, can he even handle it?

  I peer into the backyard of my childhood home. So much has changed, yet so much has stayed the same. The old swing set my dad built for me still sits in the exact same spot it has for twenty years. Unused for the bulk of those years until the other day.

  It’s nice to see my parents again in the flesh instead of over Skype. I haven’t been back since I left. Plane tickets are expensive, and between school, work, and everything else, I’ve never made the time to make it up. They did make it down to Florida once though, since I moved. Christmas, three years ago. Before Dad got too bad to travel.

  This isn’t how I had envisioned my life. These aren’t the plans Liam and I made. Not even close.

  As soon as we graduated from college, we were going to get married. Liam should be at Harvard Law right now while I teach kindergarteners how to read and write. Maybe we’d even be discussing when to start our own little family.

  I take a drink of lemonade and set it back on the end table as I shake off the life I was never meant to have. The life Liam took with him when he died.

  It’s been six years since I said goodbye to him. The first two after his death were the most difficult, but at least I had Damian to comfort me, numb me. And at first, that’s all our relationship had been about.

  Then…then something shifted. For me, anyway. I can’t pinpoint when it happened exactly, I just know that when Kate Browdy entered his life, it tore mine apart for the second time. I have nothing against Kate; I never even met her.

  But it was because of her I realized somewhere during those two years, I developed feelings for Damian. Feelings I tried hard to bury because they created a swell of guilt within me. I’d been Liam’s girlfriend, and now that he was gone, I was falling for his brother.

  So, as soon as I finished the semester at Drake, I transferred to Florida State. I had to get away. Away from Liam. From the guilt and from the man who didn’t love me back.

  And now, tomorrow morning, I have to ask that man a huge favor. A favor he knows absolutely nothing about, because I had to distance myself from him.

  I have my life on track now. I have a goal for my future, and it doesn’t include Damian Lowell.

  Hopefully, four years is enough time for my heart to forget how much I loved him.

  Chapter 4

  Damian

  What. The fuck. Was that?

  Four years. Four goddamn years I haven’t heard from her, and now, now, she calls to tell me she’s back and wants to see me? What the hell!

  Surely she’s not wanting a quick roll in the sack. Not that I wouldn’t oblige since “Cameron” left me blue, but judging by the sound of her voice, it’s something else. God knows what, though. Something tells me her coming tomorrow won’t be a jovial chit-chat after how I left things with her.

  Five to seven nights a week she appeared in my bedroom, craving a way to extinguish the memories that haunted her. That is, until Kate.

  I didn’t let go of Ellie quickly, but when I did, I never looked back. Nightly visits from her became nonexistent, and I didn’t once check on her to make sure she was okay.

  I have no idea what other way there would be for her to cope. She rarely drinks and snagging herself another fuck buddy is way outside of who she is. Before she ran off to Florida, she’d only been with my brother and me, and it took her almost four years to let Liam inside her. I know this because one night, a week after Liam’s death, she broke down and told me. I doubt she’d suddenly be okay hooking up with some stranger after she left.

  I hunch forward on my knees, staring down the bottle of tequila. Along with thoughts of Kate, what Ellie wants mixes with them, and suddenly I don’t want to be alone with my demons any longer.

  I don’t want to deal with this shit. I don’t even want to think about this shit.

  Leaving the bottle of tequila on the coffee table, I stand up, swipe the keys to my BMW off the counter, and head out. Max’s Place is too low key for what I’m craving tonight.

  Loud music. Sweaty, pumping bodies grinding on the dance floor. Never-ending shots. And as a bonus, the Kappas give celebratory after-finals blow jobs in the men’s bathroom of The Underground.

  That’s where I go.

  When I arrive, I flash my ID to the bouncer at the door. The place is packed, and the guy studies my license meticulously before he gives me the all clear with a nod of his head.

  Inside, I beeline for the bar. Weave my way through the throng of students without seeing them. I’ll have plenty of time for that after I clear my mind.

  “Damian, what’s up, man?” Chris yells over the music as I lean up against the counter.

  “Same as e
veryone else,” I tell him. “Four Horsemen.”

  “You got it.” He flips over a shot glass and starts to mix my drink. “Philosophy final was a bitch.”

  I chuckle to myself. It was a fucking sophomore level class, and I’ve wiped my ass with paper harder than that shit. “Sure was.”

  “Here you go,” Chris says, setting the shot in front of me.

  I knock it back and ask for another.

  Chris quirks a brow. “Damn, dude.”

  I survey the dance floor. Fog machines pump out smoke from all four corners, making individual people difficult to see. The flashing lights move to the beat and bounce off the old school disco ball on the ceiling. Dancers congregate in the middle, squeezed together in a tight mass of skin. A couple more shots and I think I’ll join them.

  A few Four Horsemen later, the thoughts from earlier grow fuzzy. Good. A sexy little thing slides up next to me, wearing one of those open back shirts that shows nothing but skin with no bra. Damn, that’s hot.

  She orders a Long Island Iced Tea, and from my experience, that means the girl is out to get plastered and laid.

  And tonight, that’s what I came for.

  “What else can I get you, Damian?” Chris asks while someone else mixes hottie’s drink.

  “Heineken.”

  Chris is fast with this order, and I’m taking the first drink in under twenty seconds. My gaze never wanders from the brunette beside me.

  The girl twists toward me, her long brown hair falling over her shoulders. She gathers it up and sweeps it all to one side. A silver Kappa charm on a chain hangs around her pretty neck. Oh hell yes. These sorority girls lay it all out after finals. This will be easy.

  “Hey.” I cock my head once at her and she smiles.

  “Hey,” she answers, then tucks half of her bottom lip between her teeth in a flirty grin.

  The bartender puts her drink on the counter so it touches her fingertips. She glances at it, then picks it up to take a sip, keeping her eyes locked on me.