Chapter 4 - “People like you don’t erase debts for charity. There’s always a price. What is it, Mr. Costa?”
“Damian.”
She blinked.
“What?”
“My name is Damian.”
The passing lights revealed the exhaustion in his face.
“And there’s no price. That money means absolutely nothing to me. It’s a rounding error in a ledger you’ll never see. What those men were doing to you offended me.”
“Offended you?”
Fear was giving way to anger.
“So you shattered a man’s face into a pie case because you have delicate sensibilities?”
Damian exhaled.
“I shattered his face because he put his hands on you.”
Silence filled the car.
Tessa tightened his coat around her shoulders.
“How did you know where I was? How did you know about the debt? About Sarah?”
Damian looked away.
Admitting it felt dangerously close to confession.
“When you didn’t run from my mother on your first day, I had Paul investigate you. I don’t trust anyone who enters my house. You were an anomaly. I needed to know why you were there.”
“You investigated my dead sister because I fed your mother oatmeal.”
“I investigated you because everyone has a motive.”
Tessa stared at him.
“And what did you find?”
Damian met her eyes.
“I found a woman drowning who pretended she knew how to swim. I found someone who takes a beating from the world every day and still knows how to be gentle with an old, broken woman who doesn’t deserve it.”
Tessa swallowed.
No one had ever looked at her that way.
Not with pity.
Not with lust.
With recognition.
“You’re a terrifying man, Damian.”
“I know.”
The SUV stopped outside a deteriorating brick building.
A neon bowling-alley sign buzzed below her apartment, casting sickly green light over the pavement.
Tessa reached for the handle.
Then removed Damian’s coat, folded it carefully, and placed it between them.
“Thank you. For tonight.”
She drew a breath.
“But I want to be clear. I’m coming to work Monday. I’ll do my job. I’ll care for Beatrice. But I’m not part of your world. I can’t be.”
Damian nodded.
“I know.”
She stepped into the rain and walked up the damaged concrete stairs without looking back.
Damian watched until the heavy door shut behind her.
“Where to, boss?” Paul asked.
May you like
Damian leaned against the headrest.
“Home.”
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