MY DARLING DAREDEVIL

Deja Vu

The water ran cold from his silver-colored hair to the very bottom of his feet. Water dripped down his beautiful and smooth skin as it washed the smell of blood, sweat and exhaustion from him. The event of the day replayed in his mind over and over again as it brought back the anger, anxiety and headache he had gotten from it. The boring lunch that quickly ran into the smell of death, blood, fuel and, flesh burning. Then the wails and crying of a woman whose only mistake was to sit by her father’s side and have lunch with a man like Damon. A man who had such a guardian, one who had blood all over her hand in more ways than he could ever imagine. He was a dangerous man, yet a business tycoon who knew how to keep his own, life had been taken by his hands, but he was sure it could not be compared to what she could do, or what she had done. People were always after his life, every day, every night, every second of the day, they always tried to take his life. He killed some of them, but with the revelation of the red hair, he was sure she had killed ninety percent of them while he took care of the rest.

Maybe if she had never showed up, maybe if she had handled the matter with a little bit more care, maybe if she had been a little remorseful over the dead senator, he would not be in his shower searching his heart for the feel of her gaze.

All day, he had been busy, with the press, with the senator and with law keepers as well. He did not bother to go back to his office, and had been occupied since her blood bath. He was so furious, he went about with the intent to kill, so no one dared anger him. But his heart missed something, his skin missed the burning gaze of his devil, and it got him even more agitated than the death of the senator to an extent.

The mention of him again made his heart pricked with guilt, he was a nice man who cherished his daughter with the way the conversation went during lunch. And she cherished him too, and knowing that he had been moved out of the way, only for the bullet to get to the man opposite him made him feel weak. He was a nice man, he had done some good in the country and state, and had never had an issue with Damon directly. Surely, politicians could not be saints, he had under dealings that never involved Damon, he hid his track very well and still continued his good in the day light. Not to add that he was a cheerful person who knew how to make jokes and smile. Most of all, he loved his daughter and because of him, he had died and left that same woman behind. He was responsible for what happened, and so was Aziza. He groaned and slammed his hand against the transparent glass as the image of her filled his head. Her words replayed in his mind like it was a recording stored in his head. How could she be so heartless? So, mean? So inhuman? But then again, she was not human, no, she was not and it had to take such a big problem for him to realize that.

His phone rang loudly from the bedroom for the umpteenth time and he sighed. His father and grandfather had been calling him for a while and he had been ignoring them. He was sure that they were the ones calling again. Quickly, he had a quick bath and wrapped a towel around his waist as he walked back to the bedroom. The phone rang again and just as he guessed, it was his father, Ethan. Reluctantly he picked it up and braced himself for what he had to say.

“Damon,” his father’s voice came quick and sharp.

“Come to the house immediately,” he dropped the call and he groaned. But knowing his father and grandfather, he knew that there was no way he could avoid it. He had done his best from making sure that the news of what happened did not spread as much as it should. Not to top it all, he made sure that cops did not come after him for burning humans in a public place all thanks to Aziza. Angrily, he stormed off to his wardrobe and picked up a black long sleeve shirt and maroon pants. Then a black shoes. He prepped his skin, wore his clothes, cuffed the hand, made his hair and turned to the door after applying his perfume and scents. His guards immediately started moving. He was in the worse mood and none would want to feel his wrath or anger especially not after what they had seen.

His Maybach rolled up to the front and he shook his head. That was the same car he had been with that day and few days back, he needed a different car, something to hide him, something that could draw less attention if it could be helped.

“Get one of the Bentley’s,” he entered instantly. The driver drove the car away and it took a while but the car was brought up and the door opened for him. He got in and they headed straight for his father’s.

Social media and a few stubborn blogs were buzzing with the news of what had happened and the death of the senator. None was sure if the bullet was for him or not, but all the same his name was mentioned and so was his red hair. A few pictures of her were out there too. This was a bigger scandal than what he had been faced with when he had been accused of killing nineteen people. Now he had people burnt per his orders.

“The assassin tycoon.”

“The reign of a tyrant,”

“A blood thirsty heir,” and many more were what he was being called. He looked away from his phone and shut his eyes tightly. His anger soaring deeper and deeper as the minute went by. His name and family name had meant a lot to him, it had meant too much and he never did anything to drag that mighty name to the mud. So far, this was the second time, the very second time that he was being dragged like this, not just him anyway, but his entire family. Everything that they worked for was going down the drain like it was nothing because he had been so stupid to have trusted a woman. But again, she had been the one to save him from his very first humiliation at the courthouse and had done nothing since then than to rescue him and rescue him countless times. One mistake from her should not be counted for, it was only but a mistake, a dreadful and dark one that was costing him almost everything all over again.

He opened his eyes and sighed heavily at the thought of her again. His heart went back to searching, he had been so used to that gaze on him that he knew when it was no longer there. But he kept searching, kept hoping that his emotions were making him think she was no longer watching, yet even as he went deeper into himself, he found her not.

“Seriously” he growled missing her more than he expected to.

“Is something the matter?” Marc his driver finally asked the question that had been bugging him since he started driving him to his father’s.

“That should not be a question you should ask?” he growled at him knowing that he had been with him all day to know his present dilemma

“I’m sorry sir,” he replied and faced the road. He knew better than to ask that question, he knew his boss as well and knew that this was one of the many trials that had come to him, but he had never seen him so worked up.

“The red hair only meant to protect you,” he mumbled to his boss’s hearing. Damon snapped his eyes to him, angry at first, but those words cut deep into him and for a moment, guilt flashed in his heart. But this time, not for the senator or his daughter, but over the thing he said to her. Aziza only meant to protect him, that had been her number one aim from the day he found out that she killed those nineteen men. To what extent she could go to make sure that it happened, he knew not but she was going to go to any length. She had said it herself, a million people could die for him to live, she could go to such length and he still did not know why yet he had made such vile statement about her.

“Do you think she is angry at me?” he asked with a heavy heart and relaxed into his sit as the look she had in her eyes flashed back in his memories. The pain beneath it clearer than ever, he had not noticed it earlier.

“Well, it was a very harsh word to say to someone,” Marc commented. He heaved a sigh and ran his hand through his hair.

“Keep the men at high alert, she is not watching tonight,” he replied and Marc’s eyes widened.

“Excuse me, Sir,” he stole a glance at Damon to be sure of what he said.

“She was not paid to guard me, you were, so do your job,” he replied coldly. His driver took no time to immediately speak into his com and alerted everyone. For a very long time, they had felt relaxed because they knew the red hair was always around them and so far, she had done more saving than they ever could. But now that she was nowhere near, a little fear entered their heart as they became more alert.

Getting to the house of Ethan Roxwell, reporters who were at the gate, waiting for juicy detail to tell, found their way to him with camera and microphones in their hands and questions coming from each angle.

“Did you order the killing of those men?”

“Is the red hair supposed to guard you or is she there to assassinate your foes?”

“This is a case against our country and you had burnt human beings alive, will this lead to another court case?”

“Do you think that the persistent court cases are a stain to your name?”

“Would you still carry out your position as the CEO and heir to your family’s company and wealth after all this?”

“What is the red hair, a cyborg or an android?”

“Lots of men are interested in her, how much do you think she will sell for her services?” they all pestered and questioned as they tried to get a glimpse of him inside his car. But all to no avail.

With difficulty, his car drove into the compound and came to a halt in the front door. Flossie Roxwell immediately ran out of the house and stopped at the door when he arrived. Disappointment swelled in his heart at the sight of her. He had never wanted to be a disappointment to his parents, especially his mother. He stepped out of his car and turned to her, a smile appeared on her lips as she opened her arms widely. Of course, she would want an embrace. He had almost forgotten that she was his mother, not his father nor grandfather. Happily, with relief and love, he walked towards her and buried himself in the embrace of his mother with the weight of the world lifting off his shoulders, just for a little while.

“Hope you were not injured. I got so scared for you, my child,” she pulled away from him and accessed his body.

“I’m fine, mother,” he chuckled. Memories of his little days coming back to him. Days he had it bad with some bullies. Nothing ever changed for she looked after him just like she looked after him in those days.

“Thanks to our red hair,”

“Who you would never associate with from now on,” the hush, sharp voice of William Roxwell followed as he stepped out from behind the door.