Page 56 of Night for Unsung Desires

"I've caused too much trouble for the club, Ethan. I understand if you wish me to quit."

"No one said that Damien."

"Maybe, but they may be thinking about it."

After a moment, Ethan sighs. "That's the problem with you, buddy. Eventually you always end up believing everyone is going to abandon you." He pats me on the shoulder. "You can be sure we won't kick you out. Get your shit together and deal with this situation like you always have. We'll be here for you."

I look at him, and a wave of gratitude washes over me. I nod. "I will," I promise.

Ethan nods and puts his hands in his pocket, walking towards the door. "Let's get out of here then," he says.

I follow him, and deep inside I feel that Ethan may be right.

I have always been abandoned by those who claim to love me, or by those who are supposed to be my family.

Except for my boys. They’re my real family. And so is Andrea, now.

No matter what happens, I’ll always protect what matters to me.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

ANDREA

Music floats through the air. Its solemn tone breaks the silence and brings with it a sensation that numbs my senses.

"Oh, little love, try to last longer than a whisper. We are dust, floating in the air, disappearing with the first summer storm."

Every few lines I stop to continue writing down the song. I cross out verses and jot down others as I try to bring a coherence to the melody that floats, scattered, inside my head.

"It's beautiful," Damien affirms.

I slowly look up, and realize that he’s here and leaning against the door frame.

Of course, it's no wonder he's here, since my apartment does belong to him now. At this point, everything that’s mine is his. But either way, even if he wasn't the owner of the record label, I would still have given him the keys to my apartment.

However, the apathetic look I give him now should be enough to make him understand that his presence isn’t welcome at all. "You took your time coming here," I mutter, annoyed. Without looking at him, I strum the strings of my acoustic guitar again.

Damien slowly walks over to where I’m standing, crossing the room to stand in front of the bed.

"I decided it would be better if I brought you an offering."

Curious, I look up at him. "Don't think you're going to buy my forgiveness with flowers."

"I never thought about that," he tells me.

"Nor with food."

"Not even with homemade pasta and mint chocolate chip ice cream?"

"Shit." I click my tongue and ditch the guitar. "Okay. I'll join you, but only because you brought ice cream."

Damien flashes me a smile and reaches out to take my hand.

His fingers are strong, and his grip is firm. He pulls me to my feet, drawing me into his body and placing his palm on the curve of my waist.

Standing in front of him, I feel helpless and much smaller than I should. Damien is wearing one of his sleek, modern suits, one that’s dark blue and white. I'm only wearing panties and one of his baggy T-shirts, which I stole from his suitcase during our last escapade.

"I'm sorry for everything that happened this morning," Damien says.

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