Instead of answering, Dominick clicks a switch on a central box and the screens flash to life, each one showing . . . my apartment. The screens are split, my parking space and car in the garage, my front door, and more.
I gasp, horrified at the invasion of my privacy, and reach out to touch the screen showing my bed, the sheets and pillows still mussed from where we just fucked.
Dominick stands tall, his hands behind his back, almost like he’s awaiting my judgment, like he knows this is beyond the pale. He’d told me it was too soon, and maybe I should’ve believed him. But I don’t think I would’ve ever been ready for this.
“What is this, Dominick?” I whisper, not able to find all the right words.
His eyes cut to mine, cold and fierce. “I protect what is mine, Allison. And you’ve been mine for a long time. We both know that. I love you, and you love me too.”
The words hit hard, more steel than silk this time, and for the first time, I can really see the man that others see in Dominick. The monster.
It’s what he’s shown the rest of the world but never me. Now, though, he has slipped into that persona, so distant and unfeeling, when this is the moment I need him most. It infuriates me.
I rage at him, pressing on his chest, the muscles hard and unyielding under my pounding fists. “How long, Dominick? How long have you been watching me like this? Do you sit up here in your little hidey-hole, watching me eat dinner, dance, clean? Do you watch me fucking myself and jack off like a perv? This is wrong! It’s a violation of everything we have, do you get that? Or had, because I can’t live like this. You’re not my boyfriend. You’re a fucking stalker whose dream is finally coming true, isn’t it? I guess you pulled one over on me.”
I collapse, the tears bursting free, burning like acid down my cheeks as I bury my face in my hands, muttering to myself. “So fucking stupid, Allison. Should’ve known . . . just a stripper. He’s a monster.”
He roars, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me lightly to get my attention. If it were anyone else, I’d be afraid, but even in this pit of hell, I don’t think he’ll hurt me, not physically, anyway. But considering he just smashed my heart to pieces, maybe my faith in him is just another sign of how stupid I am, how naïve I am for believing he could love me and that I knew him.
Dom’s voice is angry, fury dripping from every word, but it’s not directed at me . . . it’s directed at himself. “You are too good for the pity party woe is me shit. Stop it. You’ve worked too hard to let those thoughts have purchase in your mind again. You are a beautiful, strong, brilliant light. And I’m the one who’s the darkness. I should have stayed away, pushed you away, but I just wanted a bit of your sun. You’re right, I’m a monster, and I never told you otherwise. I will be until the day I die. But I do love you, and you have given me more happiness than I possibly deserve. But I’m a selfish bastard, Allison, and I want more. I want you. Forever. I love you. But I live in this world where I have to be The Boss . . . or I die.”
I’m a tornado of thoughts and emotions, not sure which way is left or right or what to make of his words, so I latch on to the last thing he said.
“I know you’re The Boss, but this is so much more than that!” I cry out, pushing all four monitors from the desk in a destructive warpath. “I could have accepted that! But I wanted US!” I snatch the laptop I think controls all of it and hurl it across the room where it smashes against the wall. The crashing sound as it hits the floor seems to break open a damn inside him.
“Do you? Do you really get that I’m the boss for the whole damn town?” he thunders, his voice shaking as he gestures toward the front of the apartment and the rest of town. “I know the rules because I make them. I know the expectations because I set them. And then here you come, not fitting into any of that. It drives me crazy, so fucking crazy. But I love it. I'm a cold machine, dead inside while I do the things I know have to be done, what I was raised to do. But you put life back into my existence. With you, I don't feel dead. I don't feel alone. I feel like I can be myself, not The Boss, not Dominick Angeline . . . but just me.” He thumps his chest, reiterating his words.
He slumps, his shoulders sagging slightly, and he swallows. “And the thought that I could lose that, lose you, kills me. When you're out there, walking around and doing whatever crazy shit you're getting into for the day, you take my heart with you. And I'm that man again, empty and icy. It's not until you're back by my side, when I can see that you're okay, that I can breathe again, that my heart stars to beat again. How can I apologize for that? To protect an angel, I’ll gladly be the devil.”
It’s honest. It’s bare. It’s Dominick.
It feels like the biggest share of our time together, or maybe the biggest share he’s ever given anyone, judging by the ragged way he’s breathing. The heaviness of his truth hangs in the air between us.
But I’m not sure it’s enough.
“So what am I supposed to do?” I ask, lowering my voice. “Just go along with this because your life is scary? This is crazy, Dominick. It's too much. I don't know if this is the life I want,” I say, shaking my head. “What do I get? Cameras, guards, danger, and not knowing where you are or what you're doing for my own good? How is that a partnership?”
He huffs, maybe because he doesn’t understand . . . or maybe more because he does. “You get me. And I get you. That's all we need. Each other. The rest of it is outside us. Just the things that allow us to be us. I love you, Allison.”
“You keep saying that,” I whisper sadly. “And I know you do. I truly believe that. And I understand that this is how you love. But just because this is the only way you can love, it doesn't mean it's the way I need to be loved. It may be your all, but that doesn’t mean it’s enough. I need more than protection. I need respect.”
The words are almost poignant, and Dom’s shoulders slump as the reality hits him. The little devil on my shoulder echoes TJ’s words from before, asking me if this is the life I want, the life I dream of.
And this time, I don’t brush it off. I listen.
“I need some time,” I add after a moment. “I need to think this through. I think you should go. When you're here, it's all messed up in my head, because yes, I do love you. But you're talking about a whole life like this, living in a sanitized bubble because you think I can’t handle the dark side of your life. Well, maybe I can’t, but I need to decide that for myself. And you need to decide whether you’re strong enough to let me not be that perfect angel you think I am.”
Dominick holds my upper arms in his hands, gripping me tightly but not hurting me, and I almost wish he would hurt me, smack my ass and take control so I don’t have to decide our fate, our future.
But he doesn’t. Though he wants me in this gilded cage, he wants me to come freely to it, to him.
His words are quiet, his emotions back on lockdown, but even now, when he’s trying so hard to erect his shields, I can see the open honesty in his eyes.
“I understand. It's a lot. But you are it for me, Allison. Choose me or don't, but you will always be mine and I will always be yours. Logan will be downstairs if you need anything.”
I shake my head, tightening my belt. “No. I need to be alone. Truly alone. No guards, no you. I need space.”
He nods, kisses my forehead, and leaves.
I sag to my knees, tears burning my cheeks as the weight of everything pulls me down.
Everything in my head tells me this is crazy, to run far and wide to get away from the pressure of his rules and expectations, an inherent need to rebel against any restraint forcing its way through my soul.
But my heart thuds dully, just wanting him to come back and hold me.
I force myself up, needing to see if he does what I asked, like it’s a litmus test that will tell me I did the right thing. I walk over to the window, peeking out the blinds.
Through blurry tears, I see Logan’s car pull away, then Dom’s black Mercedes leave the garage and do the same. I feel alone
without him here.
For the first time in a long time, I am alone.
Chapter 20
Allie
I take a few minutes to get back to my apartment. Luckily but stupidly, I left my front door unlocked. I stay under control pretty well until the door closes and I slump onto my bed, the tears flowing freely as my heart shatters.
I bury my face in a pillow for a moment before realizing it smells like him, and I angrily snatch its velvet softness and hurl it across the room.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a blinking light and look up at my smoke detector. The small green light taunts me. “Did you see that? Yeah? Fuck you!”
I’m not sure who I’m talking to. I pretty much destroyed the surveillance setup upstairs. But I need to rage at someone or something so the obvious culprit of crashing my happy moment is the inanimate device on the ceiling. I know that’s stupid and that this is all on Dominick, but I have to do something.
Swiping the salty tears from my cheeks, I jump up and rush to the kitchen to grab my little ‘one-step’ and hurry back to my bedroom. It’s a tough reach. I’m on tiptoe as my fingers scrabble to find that spot on the edge of the cover to get it off. With every passing second, my rage at the stupid chunk of cheap shit plastic rises, and I yank hard.
No dice, but in my anger, a piece of plastic slices my finger. It’s not serious, but the sight of the blood shocks me enough to tamp down my anger and give me pause. Sticking my thumb in my mouth, I climb down, heading to the bathroom to run cool water on my finger.
A tight Band-Aid later, and it’s fine.
If only my life were so easily cared for. I chance looking at myself in the mirror and am shocked by the haunted-looking specter staring back.
Is that me? How did I end up here, of all places?
Not able to meet my own eyes any longer, in the mirror, I see the reflection of the hallway behind me and distantly, my living room couch.
And paranoia sets in. Although is it really paranoia if you know someone really has been watching you?
For the next hour, I examine every corner, nook, cranny, and crack in my apartment, looking for something that looks out of place. I examine every smoke detector, even though I know they’ve been compromised.
This is bullshit. What he did is a violation I would’ve never imagined. I’m angry, hurt, and embarrassed. Your home is supposed to be your haven, your sanctuary, and now I feel vulnerable. Not knowing what to do, I reach out to the one person I trust to help me.
“Hello?” His voice is tight, as if he’s preparing for a fight from me like last time. But I’ve got no fight left in me.
“TJ?” I greet him, my scratchy throat and the ghost of my tears making my voice hoarse. “I need help.”
God bless my brother. His reply is immediate and heartfelt. “What’s wrong, Allie? Are you hurt?”
A humorless laugh escapes, and yeah, I sound just a little crazy. “Yes, but not like that. He . . . oh, God, listen, can you . . . can you just come over?”
I can already hear him shuffling around on his side of the line. “I’m coming, Sis. Whatever that motherfucker did, I’m coming. I’ve got you.”
I hang up, letting the phone drop and hanging my head. I let the tears take over again, sobbing silently. I need to get them out because as much as I need TJ right now, I know he’s going to come in like a steamroller. If he sees me in tears, he’s going to go postal, and that I don’t want or need.
I just need his strength. That’s why I called him, because he’s always been there for me, and I don’t think I can do this alone.
I manage to get halfway cleaned up and decently dressed before his booming knocks threaten to break my door in off its hinges, and as I shuffle to the front door in some old yoga pants and a T-shirt, I wish I’d showered before calling him.
I feel a little squelch inside me, and I remember that I’m still holding his mark. But . . . I think I might forever. He’s in my pussy, in my heart, and apparently, all over my damn apartment.
TJ rushes in when I open the door, like he’s looking for terrorists or something in here with me. Finally, when he sees I’m alone, he turns and gathers me up in a fierce embrace.
“What happened? What’s going on?”
I can’t answer at first, not without losing control of my emotions, and he leads me over to the couch, where I sit.
Through hiccups, I tell him, “Everything was fine. We had sex, but . . .”
I feel TJ tense beside me, thinking the worst, and I reassure him. “No, it was fine, it was better than fine. It was everything. He told me he loved me.”
The words force me into morose silence, trembling on the edge of tears again, and through his hug, I feel TJ’s patience wearing thin. “I need you to talk to me here. What’s going on? Because I’m about to go find that piece of shit and fucking kill him, and I don’t even know what for.”
I hold him tighter, not letting him go. “After, I went to the kitchen, and when I came back, he was messing with the smoke detector. I didn’t know.”
“Know what, Allie?” TJ says through clenched teeth.
“He’s been spying on me!” I rasp. “Cameras outside, in the smoke detectors, you name it.”
“The fucker was watching you without consent?”
His voice is eerily calm and steady, and I wonder if this is him in soldier mode.
I nod. “I caught him messing around with the smoke detector. I demanded to know what he was doing. He took me . . . oh, God, he took me upstairs. He’s got an apartment up there with monitors. TJ, who does something like that?”
TJ pets my hair, trying to comfort me. “Someone real fucked up, Allie-gator. Someone who doesn’t deserve you.”
He’s quiet for a moment, and when he speaks again, there’s guilt in his voice. “Allie, I knew he had an apartment upstairs. I followed him after dinner, saw him go in. I wasn’t sure what was going on, so I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t prove anything, and you didn’t seem open to hearing anything negative about him. I wasn’t sure whether you knew or not.”
I push away from him, pissed. “You knew?”
“I tried to tell you he was bad news!” he exclaims before forcing himself to lower his voice. “I tried to tell myself that it was just a place for the guards to stay on patrol. You know, a place someone could grab some Zs or something. Since they were following you, I figured they had to have a home base. But I didn’t think . . . this. Who the fuck is this guy, Allie? What are you messed up in?”
Even now, I defend him with my silence, keeping his secrets. I shake my head, not answering TJ’s questions.
“You know what? It doesn’t fucking matter. You are a grown-ass woman and you know what needs to happen. Say it.”
I know TJ’s looking for some big clarity moment where I denounce anything and everything Dominick and tell him that he was right all along.
But I’m not there yet.
If anything, therapy taught me that I can’t leapfrog ahead. I have to be right where I am, and that’s okay. I feel betrayed, angry, and hurt, yes.
But I also love him. And no matter what people like to claim, you can’t just turn off love. I would if I could, and I know I don’t have to act on it, but it’s there, still burning like embers, ridiculing my stupidity. But the pain itself serves as a lesson I won’t soon forget.
“Just help me,” I finally say. “I want this place bug-free.”
TJ nods, but I can see the disappointment in his eyes. I can almost see him telling himself . . . one step at a time. It used to be one bite at a time but though I’ve been eating healthy for years now, those urges, ugly and mean, still have roots in my psyche.
The insecurities never really go away. I’ve just gotten better at shutting them up. But now they whisper to me. Stupid girl. Never good enough. You thought a man like that would want you. He just wanted to use you.
TJ takes my hand, likely knowing that my inner monologue has gone dark, but he’s a man of action.
<
br /> He pulls me into my bedroom, and after a moment of taking the scene in, he snatches all the sheets off my bed and balls them up, carting them into the bathroom and coming back a moment later, a false smile on his face.
“Well, I made sure the hamper lid still works. The dust bunnies at the bottom are pissed though.”
I smile wanly, and he climbs up on the stool I’d abandoned, already reaching for something in his back pocket. Pulling out a knife, he studies the cover for a moment before opening up the blade and using it as a screwdriver to take the whole thing down.
“It looks like . . . yeah, got it.”
TJ takes me with him, room to room, as he takes down each smoke detector so I can bear witness to each painful betrayal. An hour later, I have a box full of evidence of Dominick’s sick obsession.
TJ sets me on the couch and then goes through an exhaustive search of my apartment, looking for bugs and other cameras, though he admits he’s not an expert. It feels like a fresh violation all over again, even though I told him to do it. Seriously, having my brother go through my lingerie drawer to make sure there’s nothing we missed wasn’t cool.
He’s thorough though, not saying anything as he opens every cabinet, pulls out every drawer, lifts everything to see if there’s anything attached to wooden frames or in crevices. Finally, he brushes his hands off and puts the knife away.
He takes a quick trip to the building’s dumpster and returns, using our childhood secret clubhouse knock. It’s a small thing, but it’s reassuring somehow.
He fills a glass with water and downs it. “Okay, pack a bag and you can come back to the hotel with me.”
I shake my head, curling deeper into the pile of pillows on my couch and pulling the blanket that’s on the back tightly around me, like a security blanket. “No. This is my home. You checked everything, Dom and Logan are gone. I’m not leaving.”
I know I sound petulant and whiny, but I’m hoping TJ will cut me some slack after my night. He’s not quite willing to give it up though. Turning to me, he leans against the kitchen counter, his voice quiet and softly pleading.
Dirty Secrets Page 21
