She felt a weary depression, knowing he was telling her the truth. She remembered that he seemed to have a death wish. When she couldn’t think of anything to say, he went on.
“Case, my addiction was as bad as it gets. I had the withdrawals. Swear that was worse than my fractured leg. I thought more about drinking than my pain—”
“You thought booze would blunt the pain.” She couldn’t bear thinking of his pain, and, she admitted to herself, she also wanted to believe his addiction wasn’t as bad as he claimed.
“Yes, I did,” he said. “I
always
drank to blunt the pain, even before the accident.”
She shuddered, knowing it was true, remembering the tortured bad boy from high school and college. The heir to the mill he wasn’t sure he wanted. The son from whom his father had expected the most. The popular, handsome boy everyone liked, who hadn’t even been sure he liked himself. But she forced herself to smile, intent on focusing on the positive. “You’ve stayed sober.”
“Reese helped me. A lot.”
Casey felt a jolt. She stared at him, as if he’d slapped her, but he seemed oblivious, his eyes unfocused and seemingly lost in the past. Damn Reese, a woman she really needed to thank. She’d saved Damian… “Why did you let her help you, when you wouldn’t let me?”
His gaze cleared and his features softened. “Being an alcoholic herself, Reese knew what to say, how to handle me. She forced me to go to AA meetings to see I wasn’t alone in my battle.”
“I begged you to go to AA or an inpatient rehab.”
Damian’s aqua eyes took on a look of torment, and she almost wished she could take back her words. They’d made him look as if he hated himself. “AA wouldn’t have worked for me when we were married, Case. I wasn’t ready to quit. AA only worked after I’d been forced to be sober for many months.”
Casey turned her head from him, hurt for both of them.
Still…
“Once you were sober, and doing better, you still didn’t come back to us.” She felt close to tears, but blinked them away. Only Damian could make her cry.
He stood, stepped up to her and dropped to his knees, crunching twigs and leaves underneath himself. She tried to slide away from him, but he grabbed her around the shoulders and pulled her into him, holding her with two strong arms that were made of steel. “How could I have come back to you?” His voice was low and full of self-recrimination. “Babe, you’d divorced me and I’d given up rights to my son. I didn’t know if I could stay sober. I was a mess. For all I knew, you had somebody else by then. I never let Alex talk about you so I didn’t know what was going on. I was ashamed—ashamed of the failure I’d been to you and Miles.”
She tried to swallow past a lump in her throat.
He clutched her tighter, until she could barely breathe. “I thought about you all the time.” His last sentence had sounded silky, seductive, compelling.
She melted.
He kissed the top of her head. “After the accident, I just wanted to be in your arms. Not a day went by that I didn’t ache for you and our son. Now that I’m here, it’s almost like a dream being with you again, Case.”
“Then stay with me. I feel the same way.” She lifted her head and pressed her lips against his mouth. If only she could find a way to keep him from running…
The kiss was desperate, harsh, and possessive. When they pulled apart, Damian’s eyes glowed; his gaze only inches from hers. In spite of his loving and heated stare he said, in a very soft voice, “We shouldn’t try again, and I don’t want to talk about this now.” He smiled softly at her. “I’m sure you’ll bring it up again, and my answer will be the same. Right now, though—” he sobered, “I have a mission to accomplish. I want to try to find out who’s after my family.”
In spite of his words, Casey felt hopeful about their future. She knew Damian well enough to sense his indecision. His declaration had been less than firm. But he had a lot on his mind now. They both did. “What can you do? Alex can’t identify anybody.”
Damian lifted her to his lap and cradled her gently. “I’m going to see who Dad and Sam have pissed off lately.”
“Everyone.” She laughed, but he didn’t join her.
“No. I mean specific people, maybe. I’m going to the mill tonight and I’m somehow getting into Dad’s office suite. Then I’m reading his e-mail for clues. Same with Sam. Sam’s the one I trust the least.”
She felt a wave of alarm. “Damian, somebody is after the Ballantines. It could be dangerous to go to the mill at night. The Ballantines aren’t exactly beloved there, and it’s so isolated at night.”
Damian kissed the end of her nose. “There’s a night crew.”
“A small, hostile night crew.”
“Some workers may dislike me because of my last name, but most aren’t violent. Nobody is going to do anything to me in front of an audience.”
She shuddered, thinking of some faceless man trying to hurt him. He didn’t know for sure what “somebody” would or wouldn’t do. “Don’t go,” she pleaded. “What do you expect to find on those computers? For that matter, how can you even read them? You don’t have their passwords.”
Damian pressed his cheek against hers, and rubbed her back with his large, heated palm. She appreciated his attempts to calm her, but he couldn’t. “I won’t know what I can find on the computers until I look. As for getting on without passwords, if Dad and Sam haven’t changed them, I remember them. If they have—” He suddenly stiffened. “I learned a few computer tricks.”
She pulled back and stared at him. He dropped his gaze, a boy-caught-with-his-hand-in-the-cookie-jar look on his face.
“How did you learn—tricks?” she asked.
“Reese is a computer genius.”
“Reese!” As soon as she spat the word, her mind moved ahead to matters that were more important than her petty jealousy. “So if you need to you’ll—”
“I’ll get on any way I have to. Don’t worry about me.”
“That’s like asking me not to breathe.”
His arms tightened around her. “Case—”
“You almost died once. I don’t want you taking silly risks.”
“I need to see.” He patted her shoulder, but she recognized the finality in his voice. She couldn’t change his mind. His stubborn streak equaled hers.
“I’m going with you.”
He pulled back and shot her a warning look. “No, you aren’t.”
“You can’t stop me.”
“No, but—”
“But you said it’s not a risk.”
“Not a big one, but I don’t want you at risk at all. Even a small risk.”
“I feel the same about you. I can help.”
“Shit.”
She looked up at him firming her chin.
He shook his head. “I know I can’t talk you out of it.”
“No, you can’t.”
“Don’t tell Alex where we’re going. I don’t need him dragging after us too while he’s hurt.”
“I won’t tell anyone.”
His cell phone rang and she climbed off his lap so he could get to his knees and reach his phone.
“Hi,” he said, his eyes on her. “Oh, hi, Miles. You were worried about us because we were gone so long? After what happened to Alex, I don’t blame you, but Mom and I are fine. We’ll come right over to show you, all right?” He put his cell away. “We have to go. Miles wants us protected by Bruce and Henry.”
Casey laughed. “It’s probably not a bad idea.”
Damian grimaced. “I hired Bruce to watch Miles mostly.”
“I know.”
“And Henry—he’s been a good friend of Alex’s for years.”
“You did the right thing. You can’t fool me. You got them for Alex as well as Miles.”
“I did. In his condition, strong as he is, he couldn’t defend himself.”
Casey stood up before Damian could. She grabbed his hand and helped him to his feet. “Old man,” she teased.
They both brushed off the grass on their clothes.
Damian took her hand and they shared a look of deep affection. He pulled his eyes away. “Come on,” he said, and his arm curled around her shoulders.
As he pushed her through two trees, making her laugh, she had never loved him more. She didn’t know what would happen to her and Miles if he didn’t decide to stay for good.
She paced the length of her efficient, but mirrored hotel room and, when the phone rang, she jumped on it. Pounced, really. In one of the mirrors she could see her face; the one that everyone said looked like an angel’s. It turned red with apoplexy.
“You’re such a fuck up!” she shouted, before he could get a word in. He tried to speak, but she yelled over him. “Your ass is on the line, and the boss is going to pull his funds if you don’t follow the rules to a letter from now on!” She listened to his stuttered, lame excuses and felt her anger grow. “The boss is very unhappy with you!” She listened to more of his pathetic babbling. “Just remember. The boss demands results or he’ll find a way to get his money back, and you won’t like his methods! They hurt.” She snapped her phone shut, her heart pounding so hard it felt like a drummer was beating against her chest.
Moments later she stomped over to the scale in the middle of the room, disrobed, and weighed herself.
One hundred twenty-three. Two pounds less!
That almost offset her fury at the botched attempt. Of course, the Ballantines would still freak out, but Damian was his father’s favorite, not Alex. As she exhaled a few breaths to defray the tension inside of her, she had to admit that the message had probably gotten across to the entire family, hopefully making Damian realize he had to go home; that the town didn’t want one more Ballantine around, especially the lowly drunk who always got sprung because his dad had cash. Many remembered and resented that. Without a doubt, the problem was Damian.
How dare he be in Wisconsin!
Nothing would normalize until he left. Luckily, she’d found others who agreed or who hated all the Ballantines enough to put the fear of God into the lot of them.
Her cell phone rang and she looked at the caller ID and almost spit. No way would she talk to her mother. She’d be on her case to take her pills. Hell, she was just fine without them. In fact, she saw things more clearly without those pills fogging her brain and making her hungry. She blamed the pills for her obscene girth.
The phone stopped ringing and then started up again. Annoyed, she turned off the ringer.
Screw it.
She couldn’t help smiling a little, knowing her mother was worried about her. Bitch should finally worry about her. Took her long enough to realize that her husband had molested his daughter.
And after her mother threw her father out, the damn man said she’d lied, that he’d never touched her in that way. When her mother continued to stick up for her, filing for divorce, he’d killed himself. She remembered her mother sobbing, “I should have given him another chance. He was sorry he did that to you.”
She shook her head. Time to get out of the past and think about the here and now. She hadn’t seen today’s paper yet and wanted to read about the attack. She hoped it sent shockwaves through the veins of all of the Ballantines. She walked to the door, trying not to think about her grotesque, flabby thighs as they wiggled, and then she left her room to buy a paper.
Chapter Ten
After spending the day at the beach, Alex wanted to go home, in spite of his promise to stay the night at Casey’s apartment. To entice his brother into compliance, Damian told him that, if he’d baby-sit for Miles, he and Casey would go out on a date. Alex liked the idea of Damian and Casey going out together, so he’d agreed. Little did he know that his date with Casey was at the mill. Alex would have never let him go to the mill at night without him.
He knew his brother wanted to go home, in spite of the danger. Of course, Casey was taking the risk, but he couldn’t stop her from coming. She already knew what he planned to do, and his efforts to dissuade her had come to naught.
As he and Casey held hands, walking through the darkened, deserted mill parking lot, Damian feared for the woman he loved. He didn’t care for the atmosphere and wished that Casey had let him drive her somewhere safe. Hell, no way she’d go.
The bulge in the inside pocket of his black leather bomber jacket gave him some measure of comfort. Every time it rubbed against his abdomen, it reminded him that he hadn’t come empty-handed. He’d done a lot of target practice with Reese in Alabama. Although it was illegal to hide a weapon in Wisconsin, Damian wouldn’t have felt safe without his gun. Not after Alex and the note.
As he and Casey approached the mill, Damian felt his stomach tighten. Once there, he glanced at Casey who looked at him, waiting. He hesitated; feeling a wave of distaste, then rang the doorbell. The mill would all be locked at this late hour.
After a few seconds, the heavy gray door creaked open and a vaguely familiar looking, short, stocky, balding security guard stood there staring at him. “
Damian
Ballantine?”
Damian smiled. This particular employee actually seemed happy to see him. “Yes, I’m back, at least for tonight. But wouldn’t you know it? I left my keys at home. Damn stupid of me.”
The security guard’s nametag read
Bob
. He opened the door wider and stepped aside. As Damian urged Casey inside with him, he told the man, “I also left my keys to Dad’s office suite at home. I know you have a master key, right?” He tried not to grimace at the putrid odor assailing him. The mill’s offensive smell always made him feel like gagging until he got used to it.