Long ago, he’d been jealous whenever anyone had expressed interest in Seth. He’d cut off the ear of a waiter during a banquet at their family home. He’d beaten up Ryder of the Coffin Nails in Louisiana, because he’d falsely assumed Ryder and Seth were fucking behind Dom’s back. There were many other times, but each had proved to Domenico that Seth remained loyal to him. Each time, his jealousy had torn at the fabric of their relationship, so he’d made the effort to learn from his mistakes.
By the time Dom had noticed that Miguel looked at Seth a little bit too closely, Domenico no longer worried Seth would be tempted. The rings on their fingers had sealed the deal, but it had been time that mended Domenico’s insecurities and convinced him that Seth had become as invested as he was. Hot guys were out there, but Domenico didn’t feel the need to touch them or even flirt with them. Until last night, he’d been convinced Seth felt the same way about him.
The breach of trust had torn deep gashes inside Domenico’s chest, and he wasn’t sure if they could ever be mended, no matter how much his very being needed Seth’s presence. What would now become of their relationship?
From his spot on the sofa, he noticed something peeking out from behind the armchair on the other side, and when he looked closer, he realized it was one of the three identical backpacks he’d bought long ago, so that each of them could have a convenient piece of luggage in case things really went south and they had to travel on foot.
He rose to examine it, but when he approached, it became clear there was another one resting on the floor next to it. He half-expected to see the third as well, but when it wasn’t there, he realized Seth must have taken it with him to the motel.
When had Seth even packed the other two? Domenico wasn’t sure, because that last day was a blur, but he opened one of the bags to find a whole array of basic supplies, water, clothes, ten Snickers bars— His heart stopped at the sight of his straight razor. The one he used almost every day. The one he got from his real father as a gift marking his passage into manhood. Uniquely made for him, with turtle shell and an inscription: ‘Life or death. Now in your hands.’
Even when packing essentials, Seth never failed to consider what would have been important for Domenico.
He’d packed for them to leave, as if he’d feared that Diego’s death would force them into hiding again. Sudden nausea squeezed Domenico’s throat, and he stormed back into the kitchen, straight for the bookcase containing all of Seth’s cook books. He used many for inspiration, but there was only one that counted. One that he’d carried with him wherever they went, a keepsake reminding Seth of his late mother.
It wasn’t there.
On one hand it made sense, since Seth had taken his emergency backpack to the motel, but on the other—it wasn’t like he intended to cook there. The precious book would have been safer here.
Domenico glanced at the empty mantelpiece where framed photos used to display moments from the life of their family. No glass was left on the floor, and the wrecked frames made a tidy stack in the corner, but he couldn’t see a single picture.
As if the fabric of Domenico’s life was being pulled at and shredded second after second. His mind, usually so calm, was replaced by a tangle of chaos that suggested endless scenarios in which the world around him collapsed.
A knock on the garden door pulled him out of the stupor.
“Domenico?”
Dom spun around, breathing hard on the air that suddenly seemed too hot. Miguel stared back at him with a frown. His eyes were puffed-up from having stayed up all night, but Domenico could tell from his right hand’s expression that he himself was looking way worse. The strong painkillers Quincy had administered weren’t helping him keep his sanity. Was he so out of it that he’d forgotten to lock the gate?
“What?”
“Seth’s taken a lot of money from the bar at the motel. Do you want me to do something about that?” Miguel asked, to the point as always, yet only stunning Domenico more.
His knees heated up, as if they were about to melt. “Did he say something?” was the only thing that came up in Domenico’s empty head.
Miguel watched him with those dead black eyes of his. They reflected a question that Domenico couldn’t figure out. “Only that you killed his chickens.”
Domenico leaned against the counter, stabbed by shame. He used to think little of Miguel when they’d first met, but right now that calm, steady glare was making him feel like a measly bug. “I lost my nerve.”
“The bar money, Domenico. Should I get it back? Should I…” Miguel cocked his head, and the tattoo on his throat seemed to move over his Adam’s apple. “Consider him hostile?”
Domenico blinked, pulled out of his trance. “What? No. Where is he? Why would he take the money?” he asked, but he already knew the answer. The backpack, the cookbook, and now the money.
Seth intended to leave him.
Miguel’s eyebrow made that little twitch that usually preceded him losing patience. “I don’t know. To pay for shit? He could have taken a bottle of vodka if he just wanted a drink. I’m guessing he’s saving up for a cruise.”
Domenico smacked his good hand on the counter, but it did nothing to relieve the panic spreading through his body like a virus. “Fuck. Miguel. You’re in charge until I’m back.”
Miguel gave him a curt nod, but in his usual fashion, he wouldn’t even smile. Domenico had no time to lose, so he grabbed his car keys and burst out of the house. If Seth was indeed leaving, not going on a spending spree, he could be in danger, he could get lost, and most importantly—he might disappear from Domenico’s life.
Seth was no Mr. Tropico, but with a bit of luck, even Domenico might not be able to track down for months, or even years. Domenico started the car and sped across the lawn, scaring a couple of drunk girls out of their sunbed slumber.
The next hour was a blur. Some drivers panicked when they spotted him in the midst of El Encanto’s version of heavy traffic and were unable to effectively get out of Dom’s way. This forced Domenico to terrorize pedestrians and even smash into the side of a large produce stand.
When he’d arrived at the motel, the receptionist informed him that Seth had left his room and headed toward the harbor. Up to that point, Domenico had believed that maybe his brain was playing tricks on him, but once his suspicions have been confirmed, he stormed off, chasing the recently-departed passenger boat in a small vessel he’d confiscated from a family preparing to leave for a picnic.
Their fucking picnic could wait.
The only passenger boat that had lately left was a ferry that took people from El Encanto to Letina, a town that provided a wider range of aerial connections. If Seth had boarded that vessel, he wouldn’t be hard to find amongst the thirty-odd people the ferry could transport every other day.
The sun shone straight into Domenico’s face, but no matter how frantically he rummaged through the compartments of the boat, he could find nothing that even remotely resembled a pair of sunglasses, so he resigned himself to shielding his eyes with one hand. With the water reflecting the bright glow, the solution was far from perfect, but it wasn’t as if he could afford to lose any more time. The small motorboat struggled against the current in a way the larger vessel likely didn’t, which only amplified the worry that built around Domenico’s chest like armor way too tight to accommodate him. He found it hard to breathe when the wind blew straight at his face and forced its way into his nose, and the water splashing at him was a constant nuisance. But he pushed on, fighting through the tiredness and the fuzz in his brain in the hope that maybe he would reach the ferry before the small motor gave up.
And there he was. All the way in the back of the boat, the sight of Seth’s leather jacket drew his eyes like a black hole. With the gray backpack on the seat next to him, he’d chosen to leave, and having his suspicions confirmed hit Domenico with pain like a red hot brand pressed against his skin.
Without a second’s thought, he raised his gun into the air
and shot.
A few people screamed, Seth instinctively cowered his head, but when he looked back his eyes went as wide as saucers and he dropped to his knees by the seat, partially hiding from Domenico.
What the hell was he doing? Domenico couldn’t make his boat go any faster, but when the distance between him and the ferry started shrinking, he realized the captain must have slowed it down. Barely seeing through the flaring light and confused from the lack of sleep, Domenico struggled to berth by the larger boat, but thankfully a uniformed member of staff emerged with his hands up and helped Domenico out.
A man in his twenties, slim, and with trembling fingers that couldn’t be his usual feature, he projected submissiveness. “Mr. Toro. I don’t know what this is about, but we will cooperate. What is it that you need?”
Domenico didn’t bother discussing it with him and climbed aboard, causing an eruption of gasps from the passengers, who gathered at the back like a transport of pigs to the slaughterhouse, leaving rows of seats empty.
He thought he’d have to push his way through to Seth, but his husband slowly emerged from the crowd, meeting Domenico halfway. His hands were up in a gesture of surrender.
“What are you doing?” Seth asked. His lips set in a scowl, eyes watching Domenico attentively. Were he a dog, all his hair would have been bristled, teeth bared.
Domenico was there to scold Seth, to tell him how wrong it was to leave like this, but the dull throb inside his chest wouldn’t let him. “Let’s go.”
Seth looked away, his shoulders sagging like a physical manifestation of him giving up. His movements were slow, as if he were slogging through tar, but he made a step, then another, until he passed Domenico without a word, heading for the small motorboat.
Domenico swallowed the insult that hid in the lack of verbal response. Normally, he’d have wished the remaining travelers a good day or joked to ease the tense atmosphere, but he had no mental capacity to keep up the image of a man who laughed in the face of adversity. Within minutes, the small motorboat was heading to El Encanto.
They were stuck together, Seth at the front of the vessel, Domenico staring at Seth’s back, and yet the distance between them felt as vast as the length of the Amazon. Where would Seth have gone if Dom hadn’t stopped him? What would he have done? What was he thinking?
The silence stretched, and while the sun was no longer blinding Domenico, he could find no consolation in the sight of Seth’s flushed neck and hunched shoulders. The man Domenico had given up his old family for had decided to leave him, and he had no idea how to deal with that.
Seth turned around, with no warning, and faced Domenico with a determined expression on his reddened face. “If you’re going to kill me, then just fucking do it!”
The words echoed in Domenico’s ears, as if his skull were an empty copper pot. “What? Kill you?”
“You wanted to do it back home. What’s stopping you now?”
Domenico frowned, not sure whether he was even hearing Seth right, but his body was already reacting to the accusation with a frantic pulsing that reached even Domenico’s fingers. “That’s not true. I would never hurt you.”
Seth’s bitter laugh was everything but amusing. “Dom, wake up and look at my face. I don’t want to die. And if I stay, one day you will kill me.”
Domenico stared at the fresh bruise spread in a blot around Seth’s nose, and the fading black eye. Shame sank its claws deep into his flesh, scratching and pinching until Domenico’s eyes stung. “I realize this isn’t the best way to solve problems, but I— I know you can pack a punch. You could have fought me.”
The hopeless dampness in Seth’s eyes was worse than having Diego plunge the knife into his shoulder. “How can I fight you? You own everything. You decide about everything. You control everything. I don’t have money, I can’t use the Internet, and lately I wasn’t even allowed to leave my own house without supervision. I fought you about it, but it’s true, you do own me. How would it end for me if I really fought back?”
Domenico stared at his feet, physically unable to confront the accusation. “No… that’s not true. I do everything to protect you. All I did was to keep you safe. Whatever I do, you are always my reason.”
“I once told you that you no longer scared me. Now you do. I don’t know what I can expect. I don’t know you anymore, because we barely spend time together. What’s the point of me coming back?”
The words spilled over Domenico like venom, and he couldn’t even pay attention to the boat, letting it drift with the flow of the river instead.
“I love you. You are the point of my life,” he said in a whisper, completely crushed by the fact that his actions made Seth feel the opposite was true.
Seth’s lips twisted in a nasty excuse for a smile. “You don’t love me. You can’t stand the look of me. You kicked me out of our house, knowing damn well I have nothing and have nowhere to go.”
Desperately needing to feel the warmth of Seth’s body, Domenico grabbed his hand. “I was angry. You betrayed me. And I had absolute trust in you. I just needed space.”
Domenico had expected rejection, but Seth’s hand squeezed his so hard it hurt. Shadow obscured Seth’s handsome face when he leaned his head forward, but Domenico still noticed the teardrops falling to the grimy floor of the boat. “I don’t want to lose my family.”
Domenico’s lips trembled, and he pulled on Seth’s hand, needing him in his arms again. “If you tell me right now that you really don’t want me anymore, then you can go. But I need you. There is no me without you.”
And just like that, Seth fell into Domenico’s arms, despite the swollen face, the bruised ego, and the dead chickens. He straddled Dom’s lap and hugged him tightly, shivering all over in a way that only urged Domenico to hold him harder.
How had he let things between them get to a point where Seth feared him, felt dismissed, or that everything they owned wasn’t his as well? How could Seth not see that everything was his, including Domenico? That he alone had the power to crush what Toro or Raul Moreno couldn’t.
“I don’t know where to go from here,” Seth whispered, so close his breath felt like touch on Domenico’s skin.
Dom brushed his cheek against Seth’s and swallowed when his skin absorbed the dampness of tears. “I was wrong. I had no idea that this was how you felt. If you give me a chance, we will work it out. Please, don’t leave me,” he finished in a soft voice, hiding his face in Seth’s neck when his eyes threatened to tear up too. If he couldn’t have Seth, he might as well die and have it over with.
Seth took a deep, trembling inhale. “Things between us need to change, Dom. Starting with this.” Seth suddenly pressed his fingers on the skin right next to Domenico’s fresh wound so hard Domenico couldn’t contain the gasp that left his lips.
“W-what are you doing?” he asked, staring at Seth in accusation.
Seth pulled away enough to look into Domenico’s eyes. “That’s for my nose. You’re so fucking handsome I can’t bring myself to hit your face, but if you put your hands on me again, I will. I will unleash hell. I will give as much as I get. Understood?” He cupped Domenico’s jaw and wouldn’t even blink.
Domenico nodded, suddenly breaking into a smile. “Go on. Knock yourself out,” he said, uncovering the dressing.
He could see the war inside of Seth on his face, but moments later Seth pulled away and punched the aching shoulder so hard Domenico swore, instantly regretting the invitation he’d given. But Seth must have gotten his fill of revenge, because he didn’t make any other attempts at getting even, and as Domenico recovered, Seth settled back into his seat.
“Take us home,” he said quietly.
Chapter 20 - Domenico
It had been another long, difficult day for Domenico. Natalia had claimed her daughter’s body and was allowed to take as much time off as she needed. Since the reason behind Lilli’s death needed to be disclosed, Domenico begrudgingly informed his men about Diego being the culprit. Bu
t since he needed to play his cards right with the Morenos, he omitted the fact that Diego had been already dealt with. Which meant a manhunt for someone who lay six feet under their feet was now underway.
At least things at home were finally looking up. Mark felt slightly better, Angelica was her usual sunny self, and Seth was back. He and Dom agreed that they’d sleep separately for a while, until they were both ready to reconcile. The unfamiliar walls of the guest bedroom were oddly bare around Domenico, but despite the loneliness of this unfamiliar space, he was happy knowing Seth was on the other side of the wall—safe and still within reach.
Having almost lost him put things in perspective. Seth, who’d become such a constant in Domenico’s life, his safe haven, his home, no longer felt that same way about Domenico, and this dichotomy had Dom twisting and turning on the bed. Despite his best intentions, he’d made the person who mattered to him the most, unhappy, and lying alone in bed drove that point home more physically than he’d even have imagined.
Domenico had changed so much in the years since the two of them had met.
He used to think of himself as a lone wolf, always on the prowl for prey, for new men to fuck, and new assignments to earn him more cash than he was able to spend. Now, he had a family he was responsible for. A son he’d taken in, a daughter who might as well be his flesh and blood, and a husband with whom he was building a life. Even Dana, the mean aunt you didn’t want around but still felt oddly responsible for, remained in that picture. Domenico was no longer an island, and both his future and present came down to Seth.
Seth who’d blatantly told Domenico that the reason for his actions was Dom never being there for him anymore.
Seth on the other hand, had always been there, supporting Domenico even when Dom didn’t yet understand how sweet the gift he’d been offered was. Even when Domenico had been injured, when he’d lost his memory, needed care and protection from forces Seth had no chance against, Seth had still stood by him. And yet Domenico had gone so far in his need to protect that he’d stripped Seth of agency and initiative in the things that mattered. He would have hated a partner who dismissed all his ideas or didn’t treat him seriously.
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