Chapter Twenty-Four

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Chapter Twenty-Four

Portia's concern for my well-being and the fact that we were lying together in this circle of protection, prompted me to answer her previous question.

"His name is Damien Cummings," I whispered softly into her mind, telling her the name of my father.

"How come his name is different than yours?" she asked aloud.

"My mom changed ours so it would be harder for him to find us."

Confused emotion emanated from her, and I easily picked up on what was troubling her.

"Vance is my real name. And I'll always be a Mangum. I'll never take my old name back again." I'd been a Mangum for so long that it was the Cummings name that seemed totally foreign to me now.

"Where'd your mom get the name?"

Memories of my mom and me together filtered through my mind, and the sharp pang of missing her grew stronger.

"We passed through a small town in Oklahoma once, called Mangum. We were only there for a couple of days, but Mom was charmed by it. The people were so down to earth and very kind to us. Someday she hoped we could live somewhere just like that. I think changing our name to Mangum was a way of reminding herself that places full of good people still exist."

"What a beautiful memory," she said, her voice sounding reflective.

"Yes," I agreed.

"You must really miss her."

"I do, but I understand why she did what she did. I owe her my life. If she hadn't run with me, who knows what kind of disgusting creature I'd be now."

"She'd be so proud of you if she could see you. You're such a good, determined man."

Portia had such and idealized view of me. It made me nervous sometimes. I didn't want to fail her expectations of me in any way. "Let's get some sleep," I said, not wanting to continue on with the current subject. "You need your rest."

"I'm not going to break, you know. You don't need to baby me," she replied with a small smile.

"Well, get used to it, because I'm not going to stop anytime soon," I mumbled into her hair.

---

"Good morning, sleepyhead," I spoke into Portia's head when I finally heard her stir back into consciousness. I'd been keeping tabs on her throughout the morning, waiting for her to wake up. "Or should I say afternoon?"

"Afternoon? What time is it?" She sounded completely perplexed.

"It's noon." I responded with a laugh. "I'm upstairs. Milly's feeding me lunch."

It only took a moment for her to appear, and I couldn't help raking my gaze over her. She was complete perfection. Even first thing in the morning, she glowed as if she were a super model. It didn't matter if her hair wasn't combed, or if she didn't have her makeup on. Her beauty ran soul deep.

"Well, someone was tired!" Milly teased.

"Sorry," she apologized. "I think it was that dark basement. I had no idea what time it was."

"That's just fine," Milly replied. "Vance said to let you rest because you tossed and turned all night."

"I did?" She stared at me, obviously unaware of what had transpired during the night.

"You had your dream again," I told her in between bites of my sandwich.

"Really? I don't remember." Her brow furrowed and I could tell she was wracking her brain, trying to remember.

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