Chapter 76

Derinem wasn't joking when he said he would do something about it; Damon was expecting it in the wrong direction.

*****

The following morning, Greta was pushed in by a sleepy-eyed Lina. Unlike the smile she usually had on her face when she came visiting, this time, the vexation stuck on her countenance, making her look older.

"Push this thing faster, Lina." 

Frustrated, Lina grunted. It was not enough to get woken up at five on the dot to pick up an unexpected visitor from the airport; she also had to take whatever fury the woman had brewing.

She had never seen Greta bubbling with anger before, and she wondered what had happened.

Lina looked and saw Maya come out of the kitchen with a glass of water in her hand; when she saw Greta, she smiled as she walked toward them.

Her hands open in an embrace, she hugged Greta but was quizzical when the woman didn't hug her back warmly like she always did. 

Maya pulled back, her face growing hot, still smiling nervously.

"Greta, I never knew you were coming; I'm quite surprised."

But the woman said nothing.

Maya looked up at Lina behind her, who shrugged.

"Why didn't you tell me, Maya?" The woman's voice came up angry. 

Maya's lashes went down, focusing on Greta; tell her what? What did she do that was so secretive that Greta got mad at her for not saying it?

She laughed nervously and asked, "Greta, are you okay?"

The woman's following words made her stiff.

"Why didn't you tell me Don forced you here? Why didn't you tell me you are in a marriage you don't want to be in?"

Maya scratched the back of her neck, suddenly feeling small under the woman's glare. 

The woman exhaled furiously, "Go get your things; you're leaving this place right now!"

"Gret...."

"I said right now!"

Maya nodded, running back upstairs. She would wait there and see what happens, unsure Greta could do anything.

She didn't need to find out who told Greta about everything; it seemed Sir Derinem had suddenly snapped. Now she felt trouble; she could smell it, like the first drop of rain against the ground.

Now at a far-away corner, she watched Lina push Greta into Damon's workspace. She thought of running to the guest room to warn Sir Derinem, but something told her he was ready anyway.

The explosion was close now; she had waited for it since last night.

***

Damon heard the knock on the door before it was pushed open. His brows furrowed in annoyance, and he looked up from the list he was ticking, only to see them getting in.

His lips curled in a surprised smile as he stood and walked to them, "Greta, what are you doing in Sicily?"

He bent to kiss her forehead, but she turned her face away with disappointment. She was angry, and with how her lips thinned, he knew it was at him.

"What happened?" He asked again, "Didn't the hostesses treat you well? Or.." He touched her neck and asked, "Are you sick?"

She pushed his hand away from her neck instead.

He bent, squatting to her level, swallowing the pain slashed at his chest when he placed his elbow close to his knee. "Greta, what's going on?"

She snapped at him, "You are what is happening, Damon! What has come over you, huh? How could you do something like this?"

Damon's brows creased. "Where is all of this coming from?" He had never seen her angry with him, which was affecting: "Greta, don't leave me in silence; talk to me!" There was urgency in his tone, like she held his life in her hands.

She held his collar, pushing and pulling him, hitting the bandaged gun wound on his chest; he sucked in his breath but didn't move. "How could you do this to a woman after everything?" She angrily cried, "Didn't I train you good enough for you to end up like Xavier?!"

"JUST TELL ME WHAT'S GOING ON!"

She pushed against his chest with the flat of her palm. "How could you ruin an innocent girl's life? How could you make her go through all of that pain? Because you have power?"

He stood up, pulling back, his face falling as he turned his back to her.

"How could you make her get rid of her baby? Damon, that was inhumane." She cried.

He walked back to where he had sat some minutes earlier, pulling the drawer open, but his eyes were still on her. "She wasn't supposed to be alive, Gretta; everything happened fast. And I didn't want the baby because..." He stopped 

"Because?" Her voice was still stern. 

This was the first time her anger against him was this intense, and he knew where it all came from. Greta was the only one who could make him do things he didn't want to.

Feel guilt; he didn't want to 

Derinem just crossed the line.

"Because I didn't want her to end like Laura." He pulled out a gun, blew the muzzle, then began leaving the room, "Now, if you ladies will excuse me, someone needs taking care of."

Walking out of the room, he could hear Greta screaming at the top of her lungs, "Damon, get back here. Don't do anything stupid." And even with the warnings, all he wanted to see at that moment was a hole in Derinem's head. 

He increased his stride, and once he was in front of the guest, he kicked the door open, pointing the gun.

But anger blinded him; he didn't see Derinem springing out from the side of the door, kicking the gun out of the way and watching it sweep until it hit the far end of the wall.

Ignoring the pain he knew he would feel, he lounged at Derinem, shoulders against Derinem's chest, and they both rolled down on the floor, each trying to get up.

"You're wounded, Damon, and I'm trying to take it easy on you." 

He shook his fist at his side, watching Damon's wound bleed again, red liquid streaming down his chest.

"Fuck," he muttered when he saw Damon about to dive for the gun, and in a flash, he was up, pushing Damon down so he was falling forward.

Derinem was dazed from the impact of his head on the tiled floor, and his dark polo was damp with Damon's blood.

Before he could get up, Damon was on him, fist plowing into his face while he tried to protect himself with elbows raised.

His face was becoming a goddamn mess. Fuck, he never wanted it to go like this, even though he expected it. But now, that apparent death stared at him right in the face for the second time. He wouldn't let it.

His fist shot out, striking Damon against his gun wound, earning a howl and a deep, painful groan from his brother.

Pushing Damon's weight off of him, he forced himself to slide towards the gun, heart in his mouth, ready for anything.

But when he finally reached the gun, he turned his back to the wall, facing Damon, with the gun aimed and cocked.

They inhaled and exhaled painfully, Damon's hands against his chest, muttering, "damnit."

Derinem groaned, "I'll pull this trigger right now, and I won't feel a damn thing."

He felt the warmth streaking down his nose and knew he was bleeding; there were blood stains on the ground, most of them from Damon.

Damon laughed heartily. "I was this close to finishing what should have happened that night," he looked up at Derinem, "aren't you one lucky bastard?"

Derinem pushed himself up, the gun still pointed at Damon, as he staggered back, his head still dazed so much that he winced.

"Bitch, you aren't coming out of this one, I swear..." But as much as he wanted to pull the trigger, he knew he shouldn't, even though Damon wasn't helping.

"Come on, Derinem; you can't do it?" Damon smiled, his breath becoming raspy. "That's the difference between you and me; you're a coward."

"And you mistake your stupidity for bravery." Derinem wiped his bleeding nose with his sleeves.

"Luckily, I'm not the one who has the guilt of Leona's death."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP ALRIGHT," Derinem's face turned red. "YOU KILLED LEONA."

Damon struggled to his fist, too: "I shot at you, not her. She just had to save you," he scoffed. "Damn whore could have been alive by now."

Derinem pounced on Damon, on top of him in seconds, face smashing against bone, his knuckles hurting until both of them heard the shrill

"ENOUGH" at the door.

Derinem stopped, turning his head to look behind him. He froze as he saw the familiar frames at the door, staring back at them.

"Greta," he muttered, seeing the shock on her face; he thought he could see her hands on her lap shake. When he looked up at her face, she had tears in her eyes.

"Damnit," Damon muttered, hands covering his face, as he pushed Derinem off him, and immediately, when he saw her by the door, behind her wheelchair, he wished he had never gotten up.

The silence was loud; only the beating of their hearts was audible in their ears.

"Leona," Greta's voice shook, "didn't meet with an accident but got shot by you?"

It was as if she was processing all of it.

"And I didn't know all these years?"

She looked up at Derinem, then down at Damon.

Then finally, to Lina, whispering, "Push me out of here; I think I heard enough."