Shouldn't Have Gone - BOOK III

Chapter 3 - Warning

Hunter knows that Damien did not just come to wish him and Angel well for their upcoming wedding. He knows his brother very well, and he is not the type to waste time for such formalities.

"So when did you arrive from Spain?" he asks as he leads Damien to the drawing room. "I have not heard from you since you got discharged from the hospital."

"A few days ago," answers Damien. "I was just being considerate, you know. I actually did you a favor."

Hunter snickers as he turns on his heels to face his brother.

"On what occasion have I asked for your favor?"

"Can't really remember," Damien replies with a creased forehead. "But I'd like to believe leaving Jersey for a while earned you a bit of peace. Mind you, I'm back to take it away."

It is true. With Damien away for almost half a year, Hunter enjoyed the freedom of having no responsibilities. He had all his time devoted to persuading Angel, which was indeed a huge favor. He knew Damien enjoyed Spain, and that it had been is a good place for diversion. He had seensaw his brother destroy his own life with drugs and alcohol, and he was happy he had the initiative to treat himself by leaving behind these vices—even just for afor just while. Hunter believes that Spain did Damien some good. Judging by his looks, the weather and the people there helped him so much. He's gained his weight back, his senses included. It feels so good to see his brother act like nothing happened. Whatever had caused him severe depression and had turned his life to the worse a few months ago could go. Hunter is certain that his brother fought bravely and has regained his strength to steer clear from it. Though he had tried really hard to get him to tell him what happened, Damien would just shut his mouth and drift his attention to what was pleasurable but unhealthy and perilous.

"You'd turn up on my wedding day, wouldn't you?"

"Is there a chance to look foryou'd find another best man?" Damien asks, grinning. "But seriously, you will know where I will be on that day."

"I'll drag your ass out from where you'll be hiding, Damien."

A set of leather-bound Shakespeare books lay on top of the oak desk near the window, and Damien's fingertips stroke the golden linings of the book edges.

"I don't remember you being a romantic, Hunter," Damien says as his head slowly expunges the memory of Shakespeare and de Vere, and of course, Angel.

"Those came with the house," Hunter replies as he takes out a crystal container of a 1940 Avignon wine from the same desk. "And this too. Want a drink?"

Damien shakes his head.

A sigh of respite breaks out of his throat. For the love of God, he thought Hunter has found Angel's tickle. He could have gone into fits if Hunter said he bought it for Angel.

"These aren't authentic."

"What's not authentic? The wine?"  The smell of it is just like the spring of the nineteenth century France. "Or the books?"

"The books. I'm sure the wine is just fine."

"Right. I don't really care about the books or Shakespeare," Hunter answers. "I remember you have a huge collection of him and other classical writers in your den."

"I tell you, Hunter, they help a lot with women."

"Just drop that love advise, will you? I don't do that stuff."

"And how did you manage to catch Angel then?"

Drinking from the rim of his glass of wine, he eyes his brother. "You know how I am with women, Damien. I have a very exotic way of doing things."