Page 42 of The Damaged Billionaire

I can’t stop the stupid smile as it hits my face and her eyes light up in delight.

“Good. At least one of us is having amazing sex!” she yells out as she walks down the hall, and I laugh, glad to have her back home.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE - TENNYSON

I have no idea why I am here. Why do I even bother? Why do any of us do it? I look around the table, and none of us boys seem happy with this. Yet we come and have dinner with my mother every month. We make sure she is alive and try our best to keep her in line. If nothing else, seeing her ensures we are usually on top of anything she has planned so we can get ahead of it and limit the negative media. She usually loves to sprout about her latest foray into society, so we can pick up any little issues before they arise.

“Are you just going to sit there with a sour look on your face, Tennyson, or are you going to eat that prime cut steak in front of you?” my mother almost snarls from across the table. I grind my teeth and look at her. My body is tense, my shoulders stiff, and I need a fucking whiskey.

“I haven’t seen you since you left Harrison’s business dinner early with that brunette. I can’t say I am surprised, but you really should wait until after formal proceedings before you run off with your floozies, Tennyson.” She pushes my buttons on purpose, I am sure of it.

My eyes flick to Harrison, and he looks at me and shakes his head, silently telling me that he doesn’t care about the business dinner and to ignore her. My teeth grind, my jaw almost cracking under the pressure. Her eyes flick to mine, and we stare at each other for a beat. The more I look at her, the more the memories come back. Keeping my distance from her has enabled me to push everything out of my mind, but I haven’t had a drink for over a month. I’m sleeping better, eating better, enjoying life more, enjoying time with Willow. And that means the brain fog I had swirling for years is clearing and the memories I’ve ignored are starting to surface. I just can’t get a firm grasp on them yet.

“Can anyone here tell me why we still come here and sit through this shit?” I ask everyone and no one. My brothers are silent, but their eyes are on me.

“Tennyson!” my mother berates me, and I clench my jaw even harder.

“What, Mother?” I push her. I hear one of my brothers gasp, probably shocked that I am actually conversing with her.

“Do not speak to me in that tone,” she seethes.

“Or what? Is that a threat?” We both know it is.

“It’s called respect.”

“Respect? Respect!?” I raise my voice. She doesn’t have the first idea about respect. I go from zero to one hundred when she is around. It is like a natural instinct I have with her. My defenses come up immediately. It is not even a conscious decision at this point. It is like my mind’s way of protecting me.

“Calm yourself, son,” she warns, thinking she has the upper hand, but little does she know, I am not the same boy I once was.

“Or what, Mother?” I see a little fear in her eyes, but blink and I would have missed it. She now knows I mean business. I am not afraid of her. Not anymore.

“Tennyson Rothschild, mind your manners,” she yells at me, and I have had enough.

“I’m out, fucking done.” I push my chair back with such force, it falls onto the floor. I throw my napkin on top of my plate, not touching a piece of food she serves. I don’t trust her; she probably would poison it.

Stomping out the door, I hear my brothers yell out for me, but I ignore them all. Slamming the front door behind me, I strut to my car, and I am out of her driveway in a flash. I have never been so on edge to leave her place. I pay no attention to where I am going.

My mind runs on autopilot. Memories flood me, and I rub my eyes, trying to remove the images that filter through my mind, but they remain. They all lead to Nanny Helen. The woman who raised me. The woman I really wanted to call Mom. The woman who helped with my homework, fed me dinner, read me bedtime stories, and patched my cuts and bruises.

I put on the radio, turning it up loud to drown out the noise in my head, grinding my teeth, feeling like I need to punch something. I slam my hand against the steering wheel, once not being enough, so I do it again and again. Zooming in and out of the traffic, snaking my way through the streets and along the freeway, I start to settle. The farther I get from her house, the more my body starts to relax. My phone rings, and I see Harrison’s name, but I ignore it. Steering the car around the corner, I drive into the quiet residential street and pull over to the side and park. Turning off the car, I look up at Willow's cute little house, the lights on inside. It looks warm, inviting, safe, welcoming.

I haven’t had a girlfriend before, and I am not sure if that is what Willow is. We haven’t labeled it, but I know if she dated anyone else, I would kill them. I sit in silence, looking at her door. I sent her a box of her favorite underwear, not just because I have ruined a few, but because I want her wearing something from me every day. That way, even when I am not with her, she has me all over her body.

I sigh and rub my head. I should leave. She was with me all last night. She wanted to spend time with her sister. She would be tired. Probably sore. But right now, my body aches to see her. My phone ringing startles me. Willow's name flashes on the screen, and I don't hesitate.

“Hey,” I answer, still looking at her house like a creeper.

“Are you going to come in, or just sit outside like a stalker?” she asks, and I huff a laugh. Why doesn’t it surprise me that she knew I was here?

“I didn’t know if you were awake or were up for visitors,” I say, giving her an out if she wants it.

“Come in. I’m baking. You can be my taste tester.” I unclip my seat belt and step out of the car immediately at the invite.

“On my way,” I say, ending the call and walking up her path, her door opening before I reach it.

“You okay?” she asks, looking sexy as fuck with an apron on, with her hair tied up in a topknot, a bit of flour on her nose.

“Better now,” I tell her honestly, my arms automatically finding her waist and pulling her to me. I bury my head in her neck and suck in her fantastic aroma, the stress, pain, and heartache leaving instantly.

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