All characters are over 18+
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A little after one in the morning anyone would be annoyed by the noisy doorbell as Damien was at that second. Yet that paled to what awaited to greet him as he opened the door. The flood of emotions that bombarded his mind as he looked upon the woman he hadn't seen in twenty year's. Narrowing his eye's as lightening flashed unrelenting hatred had won out as the rain hammered the roof.
"Uncle explain why you're on my doorstep with her," Damien said with a venom laced growl.
"Damien if you let us in I'll explain it all," Maison said, knowing how dangerous the situation was quickly becoming. "Please for me," he whispered as he leaned towards the door. "They need your help Damien," Maison said, hoping that his nephew would hear him out.
"That's obvious Uncle," Damien said, eyeing her bruised and battered face. "Still that doesn't explain why you thought it wise to show her where I live."
"Damien you remember what dad always told you," Maison said noticing the tick in his nephews right cheek. "No matter how much you dislike them, they are still your family and family helps family."
"Fine," Damien sighed inching open his door. "You know how much I hate it when you pull out papa. Take your shoes off," he said, eyeing his estranged family. "You know your way to the living room, I'll meet you there," Damien said, drifting off to his room to retrieve a shirt. He had no wish for them to see thing's any more than they already have.
"Maison what happened to my son," Martha asked as her twin daughter's took their place on the couch. The multitude of scar's that covered his body rocked her to her core, that rage she saw in his eye's was the same as always.
"Didn't know you had one Martha," Maison said, looking up to the second floor.
"You gave up that claim when you abandoned me," Damien said as his shirt slid down his chest hiding his scar's from view. "Leaving me alone with that woman, and papa when he was drinking. All so you can have those," he pointed between her two daughter's. "So obviously she has been beaten on so the question is why do you think I will help," Damien said, sinking into his recliner.
"Because you're the only one that the other's don't know where you live other than me and Charlotte that is," Maison said resting his hand on his sister's knee. "Plus we can't have him sitting outside my home threatening my family any longer."
"I see," Damien muttered while he cared nothing for the rest of his estranged family. His uncle and aunt felt more like a mother and father than anything else. This was the only reason he had even considered hearing him out. Yet if they were under threat from whom, he could only assume her future ex husband. Then Damien would help only his uncle, he could care less what happened to her. "Are they alright," Damien asked they were the only one's he felt any attachment to.
"Yea just shaken up a little," Maison said his shoulders sagging glad that at least this hurdle was cleared. He knew getting into his house would be the biggest challenge. However he knew his nephew as much as he would allow, Maison knew not to press him about his year's in the military. Especially after the drunken night when he finally told him how forty percent of body became covered in gruesome scar's.
"And how long do I need to hide them," Damien said, not bothering look at the woman across him.
"I don't appreciate being talked about as if I'm not here," Martha said, peering at her son through her swelling eye's. She knew it be day's before her black eye's would disappear. Her spilt lip throbbed painfully as she scowled at him, wondering how she was going to live with him. There was no mistaking the rage she saw when he answered the door of his manor. She was surprised when his handsome face filled the crack in the door. For twenty year's she had regretted leaving him behind with her mother. Yet as she looked around the lavished manor wondering how he could have been so fortunate to afford such a place.
"Oh I'm not the one asking the bane of your existence for help," Damien said, his gaze cutting her to the bone at her gasp. "Be thankful that he was the one to ask instead of you!" Her hand covered her mouth to contain her shock that he had overheard her and her mother's conversation those many year's ago. A conversation fueled by her own hatred of the man that raped her when she was twelve.
"Josh," Martha began to say as his cheek began to twitch.
"My name," he said, his nail's dragging along the fabric of the armrest. "Is Damien Richards the boy you knew as Joshua Whitman died twenty year's ago." How he hated to be reminded of that name, a name of a boy that no longer existed within him.
"It should only be a few month's Damien," Maison said, cutting in as much as he loved his nephew his stubbornness was very aggravating. "Just long enough for the court to throw Michael into jail."
"Fine," Damien sighed, knowing he had to put off taking on certain job's while they were there. "Three rules of my house," he said, holding up three finger's. "One my room and my office is off limit's. Two clean up after yourselves, three stay out of my way. If you can do that then I'm sure we can go back to ignoring each other once you're out of my house," Damien said, rising from his seat. "Come along I'll show you where you can sleep," he said hearing them file in behind him.
"These two rooms you two can use," Damien said, stopping at the first door to his left as he led them down the hall. Opening the door, ushering them in showing them the connecting bathroom. "The only room left unused is the one up stair's," he said leaving his half sister's behind.
"What about that room across the hall from them," Martha asked as Damien started to ascend the stair's to the second floor.
"That's my gym," Damien said before his uncle got his attention.
