Page 34 of Ruthless Salvation
Don’t panic.It has to be here.
First my phone, now my passport. I couldn’t figure it out. I’d left the stupid thing in my suitcase when I unpacked at Damyon’s house, and now it was gone. I hadn’t taken it anywhere—how could it possibly have disappeared?
Could the staff be stealing? Damyon was a stern boss. I couldn’t imagine anyone in the house taking that sort of risk. But what other explanation was there?
Could Damyon have come across it and put it somewhere for safekeeping? It wasn’t unreasonable to put something like that in a safe. Daddy used to do that. But why wouldn’t he have mentioned it?
You know why.
My gaze drifted to mirror where I could see the still-healing cut on my lip. It had hardly been Damyon’s fault. I’d known better than to give him sass when he was in a mood. Honey always said my mouth would get me into trouble one day.
God I missed her. She was probably worried sick about me. I’d texted her early on, but had yet to put her number in my new phone. I hadn’t even told Damyon much about her. At the time, I wasn’t sure why, but now … I touched at my lip. Maybe somewhere deep down, I’d suspected.
Too good to be true.
Could Damyon have done something so premeditated as take my phone and passport so that I couldn’t leave him? Sure, he had a temper, but stealing such personal items as a phone and passport seemed so much more sinister. So controlling and calculating.
He hadn’t forbidden me from going out, so long as I took security with me, but that was for my safety. I’d always felt protected and cared for with Damyon, aside from the few hiccups we’d had. He gave me everything I wanted and spent as much time with me as he could. But I didn’t know how else to reconcile what had happened to my missing items. Could I have so sorely misjudged him?
In the month since Damyon had bruised my arm, he’d only let his anger get the better of him two other times. Once, he tugged me by my wrist so hard I thought he’d dislocated my shoulder. I’d told myself he didn’t recognize his strength. That he hadn’t meant to hurt me. Then, a week ago, he’d struck me. I was so shocked that I’d been speechless. I couldn’t imagine a situation where my father would have hit my mother. I couldn’t fathom how it had happened, but Damyon was a passionate man in every regard, and I’d argued with him, knowing he’d had a rough day.
He’d been overcome with remorse as soon as it happened. He knew it was wrong. I didn’t think he’d ever intentionally do something so hurtful.
The days that followed had been filled with every form of affection I could imagine until my heart was bursting. When I thought about how sweet he’d been, I was reassured that I’d overreacted about the passport. There had to be a reasonable explanation. All I had to do was ask. And if by chance his staff was responsible, Damyon needed to know.
“Hey, babe.” I grinned, finding him sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper. “I was tidying up my side of the closet and realized I can’t find my passport. I know I left it in my suitcase, but it’s not in there now.”
He stilled. “You were looking for your passport?”
“No, not at first. Just organizing my things. When I remembered it, I decided to check and make sure I remembered where I’d left it. I’m glad I did because the darn thing isn’t there. You don’t think one of the staff could have taken it, do you?”
“I don’t because I put the passport in my safe a while back for that very reason.”
See, there you go. A reasonable explanation.
“Oh, okay.”
Yes, a totally acceptable explanation. He wanted to look out for me, so he searched my things without asking and locked my only means of identification in his safe.
Well, that didn’t sound quite so benevolent. I hated to look at things with a jaded eye. My old neighbor, Mr. Meyers, thought the worst of everyone he came across. He was a bitter, nasty old man. I didn’t want to fall into that trap, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was icky.
Damyon came over and placed a kiss on my forehead. “Don’t be worried. If it makes you feel better, you keep it where you like.” He took my hand and led me to his office where he opened the safe and handed over my passport with a soft smile. “Better?”
I smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, I guess so. It made me a little anxious to think that if something happened to you, I couldn’t get to it.”
His brows lifted with amusement. “And what, little angel, do you think is going to happen to me?”
“Hopefully nothing, but I’ve seen the scarry men you work with.”
His head tipped back on a laugh. “Nyet, that is just how it is to be Russian. We all look a little scarry.”
I traced his bottom lip with my thumb. “Not scary, beautiful. I could hardly believe my eyes the first time I saw you.”
His arms were instantly around me. “And you were the vision of an angel—my own little piece of heaven. It was impossible not to want you. How could a man lay eyes on God’s most perfect creation and not go mad with need?”
God, he could make me blush. “Now you’re being silly.”
“Nyet.” He sobered, eyes piercing me through. “You are the air I breathe. I would do anything to keep you at my side.”