The devil's advocate

Chapter 12 Eden

I’m shaking so hard my teeth chatter as we make our way toward the funeral home.

The nasty things the maid whispered under her breath as I was walking out to the car echo through my head, muffling the clack of my heels on the pavement.

I’m not sure who she is, but she seems to know all about me and my past.

There’s no escaping it. I’ll always be known as the town slut who tried to ruin a good man and a happy marriage.

Bile rises up my throat as we pass through the front doors. A few people are gathered in the lobby conversing. It won’t be long before they begin speculating and whispering. “I’m sorry, Damien. I can’t do this.”

My head spins like a carnival ride and my throat constricts when I realize people are starting to look in our direction.

My therapist was right. Normalcy isn’t something I’m capable of achieving. I need to focus on small goals: like walking to the mailbox.

I need to stop trying to run when I’m barely able to crawl, because I’m only setting myself up for failure.

My breathing accelerates as I hightail it for the door.

A sharp tug on my arm yanks me back. “Eden.”

Oh, God. Damien’s saying my name. Everyone is going to know who I am.

I clutch my stomach when it rumbles. Damien’s speaking, but it sounds like he’s a million miles away.

My face feels wet and I don’t know if it’s from tears or sweat, but it doesn’t matter. There’s only one thing on my mind.

I have to leave.

An overwhelming feeling of doom surrounds me like a viscous black fog, and I claw at my neck with my free hand, desperate for air.

I’m moving fast but in the wrong direction. The exit is the other way.

I fight against Damien’s hold, but it’s useless because he lifts me off the ground.

“No.”

I need to get out of here. Bad things happen when I leave the confines of my home.

Lives get ruined. People die.

“Goddammit,” my tormentor growls. “I told you I won’t let anyone hurt you.”  

Cain said that, too. For all I know, Damien made a deal with him as well. It would explain why he’s so insistent on me being here.

This must be the drop off.

A sardonic laugh bursts from me. A funeral home. How convenient.

Then again, Cain’s always had a knack for details.

My maniacal laughter about my demise turns to sobs as Damien sets me down. “For fuck’s sake. Stop crying.”

“Medication,” I croak as I take in the table displaying mass cards and the few rows of chairs in the otherwise unoccupied room. “If it’s all right with you, I’d like something to take the edge off before I meet my maker.”

“Eden, look at me.” When I do, he says, “No one in this town is going to fuck with you once they know you’re mine.” He inhales deeply. “Where’s this medication of yours?”

“In my purse.”

After inspecting the pill bottle, he places a tablet in my hand. “How long does it take to kick in?”

I debate telling him at least fifty years, but given it’s a fairly common medication for anxiety and panic attacks, the information is readily available on the Internet. However, he’ll likely be even more of a brooding ass if I tell him to Google the answer.

I need to choose my battles wisely with this man.  

“About fifteen to twenty minutes.”

“Fine. We’ll just hang out here until you’re ready to go in.”

I search his face for signs he’s joking, but there are none.

“I don’t think you understand—”

“No,” he sneers, getting close to my face. “You’re the one who doesn’t understand. I’m not the kind of man who negotiates, but I did earlier.” Anger radiates off him as he continues. “We had a deal and I expect you to keep your word. You’re attending this funeral and whatever the hell else I want you to for the next month, and that’s final.”

My only option is to level with him and try to explain that social situations—especially those involving anyone from town—are a severe trigger for me.

“I know you think I’m being silly and immature, but I’m not. I have a legitimate condition and I can’t be in a room full of people—”

“You were in a room full of people the other night.”

“It’s not the same and you know it. Even my therapist—”

“Your shrink is a quack who deserves to have his license revoked and shoved up his ass.”

I’m honestly offended. I’ve made amazing progress this year thanks to him…and Cain. “You don’t even know hi—”

His hand clamps my jaw. “I need you to try.” His grip grows tighter, causing me to wince. “You have to try to conquer this. Not for me and not for Cain, but for you.”

It’s not so much his words, but the conviction behind them. It’s almost like he wants this for me even more than I do.

It’s also the first time he’s treated me like I’m not part of whatever his agenda with Cain is, but an actual person.

“I might have another panic attack,” I whisper, shame coating my insides. “I’ve already embarrassed us both once today and—”

“I’m not embarrassed.” He dips his head slightly and my heart rate quickens, gaining momentum by the second. “You can do this, Eden. But you won’t know unless you try. You have to want it.”

I do. I want to be normal so bad I can taste it.

“Swear you won’t leave me in that room all alone? Because I don’t think I can handle—”

“I won’t leave your side unless you want me to.”

“Okay,” I breathe. “I’ll do it.”

In the grand scheme of things, my life can’t get much worse. Not only is a ruthless asshole holding me captive, the man I love is marrying someone else…and the happy couple wants me dead.

I might as well throw another log on the fire and go out in a blaze of glory by attempting to conquer my anxiety disorder along the way.

Take some control back over my life.

Easier said than done. Because I know once I’m in that room I’m going to want to run for the hills again.

And I have absolutely no idea how I’ll remain intact once I see him.

Correction…them.

I rub the knot forming in my chest. God, it hurts. Whenever the anger I’m harboring for him eases up the slightest bit…a swell of pain comes rushing in to seal the void, filling all the crevices of my broken heart.

I wish my resentment and hate could wash out all my feelings for Cain.

But that’s not the way it works.

Love isn’t powerful because it builds and restores.

It’s powerful because it survives destruction.

“I forgot to give this to you in the car.” Much to my bewilderment, Damien shoves a small velvet box in my hand. “Put it on.”

I open it cautiously, fully anticipating whatever’s in the box will bite my finger off. I honestly wouldn’t put it past him at this point.

However, what I uncover is…far more perplexing.

Confusion fills me as I stare down at the large opal stone surrounded by tiny diamonds in a halo setting. The ring is gorgeous, but I’m stumped as to why he’s giving it to me.

Damien folds his arms across his chest, seemingly a

“I know. It’s—”

“Your birthstone.” I’m not sure what to make of the expression on his face. “Someone once told me opal was good luck for those born in October. Helps ward off evil spirits or some shit.”

I fight back the urge to inform him that this one must be defective given he’s still here, because I’m still having trouble understanding why he would do something so nice for me. “Why—”