Damian.
The stance throws me right back into the past to a boy who expected the worst from the people who was supposed to love us, a boy who always had to be ready to defend himself against violence and prejudice. Like a puppy kicked too many times, he grew up into a vicious dog. For the most part, he was a mistrusting and cynical adolescent, but the Damian I remember before he went to jail had hope and ambition. Who is the man today? How does being locked behind bars for a crime one didn’t commit change a person?
Russell unlocks the doors. A part of me wants to run to my brother while another part can’t get out of the car. Time and everything that filled up that time hold me back. We haven’t seen each other in seven years. For six of those, he’s been in prison. I’ve spent three in my own prison, and it changed me. I’m out of place, and I’m scared. Damian and I will be strangers to each other, but Russell is waiting, so I get out and pause.
There’s more to my hesitation than just my trepidation. I don’t want to put Damian in danger. Maxime will come after me. I’ll have to disappear, but before I do, I have to make sure Damian knows about Maxime’s schemes. I have to tell him his trusted friend and cellmate, Zane da Costa, sold information to Maxime about Damian’s plans to take back the mine Dalton stole from him. He needs to know Maxime kidnapped me to hold a sword over his head, ensuring my brother would continue selling the diamonds from the mine directly to the Belshaw family by cutting out the middlemen.
When I finally manage to put one foot in front of the other, Damian comes down the steps. We meet each other halfway. The moment his face becomes visible in the headlights of the car, all my reservations vanish. He’s exactly as I remember, albeit a little older. Yet he’s different too. The man who stands in front of me is no longer the strongest boy in the neighborhood. He’s grown into something much more powerful. He looks unbreakable, and I feel better for it.
He holds out his arms. “Zee.”
The minute he says his childhood name for me, I fall into his embrace, letting his strength fortify me.
“Hey.” He brushes a hand over my hair. “You’re safe. It’s all right. You’re here.”
I’ve shed enough tears for a lifetime, but more flow at his words. This is only the first step. There’s a long and difficult process of letting go ahead.
“Thanks, Russell,” Damian says.
Russell salutes. “You take care of her.”
A look passes between the men. It says I’m pretty much screwed up, enough for Russell to have noticed.
Sniffing away my tears, I offer Russell a sincere, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He hands my bag to Damian. “I’ll see you around.”
“Come,” Damian says, turning toward the house when Russell gets back into the car. “You must be tired.”
“I’m sorry for making you wait up so late.”
He throws an arm around my shoulders. “You don’t owe me any excuses. That’s what brothers are for.”
He leads me up the steps and opens the door to let me inside. We enter a small entrance with a lounge on the left. It’s cozy. The furniture is ethnic with orange, green, and red scatter cushions. Woven rugs cover the wooden floors. He goes ahead of me down a short hallway to a spacious kitchen overlooking the water. It smells of chocolate cookies.
He dumps my bag on the floor and pulls a chair out by the table. “Sit.”
I take the seat while he fills a kettle with water and prepares two mugs of Rooibos tea. Putting one down in front of me, he says, “You don’t have to tell me anything now. We can talk in the morning if you’re tired.”
My laugh is strained. “I doubt I’ll be able to sleep.” Plus, the sooner he knows everything, the better.
His gaze is piercing but his tone gentle. “Is someone after you, Zee?”
“Yes,” I admit with a gush of air that tumbles from my chest. Just as I open my mouth to tell him the truth, a boy of about three years with curly hair and blue eyes walks into the kitchen.
“Daddy?” he says in a sleep-thick voice, rubbing his eyes with his small fists.
Damian opens his arms. “Hey, Josh. What’s up, buddy?” When Josh walks into his embrace, he picks him up and settles him on his knee. “We have a visitor. This is my sister, Zee.”
Dumbfounded, I stare at the child. I’m an aunt? Damian has a child? When? While he was in prison? How’s that even possible?
“There you are, Josh,” a sweet, musical voice says from the door.
I turn my head toward the sound. A stunning woman with the same startling blue eyes as the boy and golden hair that cascades in waves over her shoulders stands barefoot in the door. She’s wearing a short silk robe. My gaze drops to where her hand rests over her big belly. The diamond on her ring finger catches my eye.
Oh, my God.
The change in Damian when he looks at the petite woman is incredible. His features soften. The hardness in his eyes I attribute to our difficult childhood melts to dopey puddles. A gentle smile curves his lips. He looks at her as if nothing else matters, as if she’s the focal point of his existence. Wow. My brother is a conquered man. He’s a worshipper.
Balancing Josh in one arm, Damian gets to his feet and walks to the woman. He places a hand over hers on her stomach. Concern laces his voice. “Everything all right?”
The woman reaches for Josh. “I heard him getting up and didn’t want him to bother you.” She glances at me with a shy smile, exposing a dimple. “I’m sure you have plenty to talk about.”
“He’s too heavy for you,” Damian says, lowering Josh to his feet
