by Nora Flite
The glow in his eyes is admiration. He respects that I've spent years learning whatever I could, all because of his initial advice. I'm pulled in by a peek at the boy that I remember. The enthusiasm in his face mirrors what he had when he was a teen. Before time and suffering and who knows what else transformed him into the man in front of me.
It's the first time he's really spoken about our past. As I step closer, my hair brushes my lower back. It sparks a thought. “Dominic,” I whisper. “Do you remember saving me?”
He breathes faster. His obsidian pupils shoot to my braid, then back to me. Right then, my soul lightens. I'm sure he hasn't forgotten but I want him to say it. It would be easy to answer me, so what's holding him back?
“Something's happened to you,” I say, reaching up to touch his jaw. Tension forms at the corners of his eyes. My hand freezes in midair—I'm anxious to touch him, worried it will shatter the moment. I think of myself as wild but it's Dominic who's acting like an animal ready to bolt. “You don't have to tell me everything, but please, I need to know.”
He opens his mouth; I think he's going to answer my questions, remove this false but terrifying mask he's been wearing. He cups my shoulders, his grip as present as gravity.
Then he kisses me.
I always dreamed my first would be with Dominic. It took me sometime after he left to recognize my young, slowly growing feelings for him were more than friendship. He became a fantasy to me. More than once I dreamed about him rescuing me again, only this time, he was a full-grown man and not a skinny child.
The real him is more than my imagination was capable of conjuring. His palms move up to hold my face. He tilts his head to kiss me deeper. A thud fills my ears. I dropped the book. Neither of us cares.
Deep down, I know I shouldn't be doing this with him. Not until I understand what he wants, what he's been through. He might as well be a stranger to me and here I am, giving myself to him in the middle of an empty library.
Thick fingers play through my hair. One makes a fist, tugging my braid until my scalp tingles. The sensation drives a cold image into my mind—Dominic catching me from behind as I tried to flee.
Your heart can't help you get home.
“Wait,” I say, forcing myself out of his grasp.
Dominic watches me with his chest rising rapidly. The red, burning coals haven't left his eyes. I retreat a step; he follows. “I can't wait,” he whispers, his voice husky. “All this time, Laiken, I've thought about you. I want you more than you could ever understand. More than I understand.”
His raw admission steals my strength. I come close to falling into his arms, but before I do, I see the book lying on the floor. “Dominic, no.” The rejection cracks my heart. I see it hurts him too. “You were right earlier. I can't use my heart, I have to use my brain to get out of this mess, to get myself... my family... home. Letting you close to me, when I don't even understand who you are anymore, is reckless. What are you hiding from me?”
His body coils like a spring. I think he's going to tackle me, but he stays where he is, his every vein bulging. My eyes slide over his hard abdominals that push through his shirt. That's when I see the massive shape of his erection flexing through his jeans.
I've never seen a man naked before. I'm a virgin, through and through.
Once, last summer, there were some landscapers working in the yard. One of them was my age, his hooded eyes making his intentions known as he stared at me whenever I was around.
He got me alone one evening and tried to kiss me. He didn't care if I said no. He thought I'd be easy. I wasn't. After I bit his forearm, he left me alone. Word got around and no one else tried to approach me after that.
I want so badly to see Dominic in all his glory.
“I can't tell you the things you're asking about,” he whispers, gritting his teeth like he's being stabbed.
“You can't tell me now, or ever?”
He closes his eyes. His lashes are thick and beautiful. “I'm not sure.” He opens his mouth, shuts it. When he looks at me again, some of the icy cold has returned to his expression. “No, I definitely can't ever tell you.”
“Then this,” I say, motioning between us. “Can never happen again.”
He laughs, the brittle sound echoes through the room. “You're going to have your work cut out for you, do you understand that?”
“What are you talking about?” I didn't think he'd laugh at my threat.
“You want me to say no to you?” A wickedness moves through his voice and enters my blood. It sticks there, making me shake with an excitement that feels wrong. “Fine, I'll do my best to hold back when you're near me. But are you sure you're going to be able to do the same? Living under the same roof and seeing me constantly is going to take a toll.”
I'm stunned by how he twists my words around on me. “I'm not an animal, I can control myself.”
“That's good,” he says, and though he doesn't come any closer, I feel his presence as if it's rubbing over my whole body. “Because if you wanted me as much as I want you right now, this would be impossible to prevent. So thank goodness,” he chuckles, turning away, “that you're strong because I'm not. The first hint I get that you're about to break and to give yourself to me,” He smiles. I can taste the kiss that we experienced just minutes ago. “I'm going to make you mine.”
- Chapter 16 -
Dominic
My own threat hangs heavy on my heart long after I part ways with Laiken.
Our kiss unlocked something chained inside of me. It's more than an animal, more than a feeling. There's no one alive that understands the sacrifices I've made. Inside of me is a damn black hole. The part of every person that is pure, that goes cockeyed when they think about happiness? It's missing from me. For the past year, I was sure it never existed in the first place.
She changed all of that.
When we kissed, the nostalgic time we'd spent together came rushing back. I'm not crazy enough to think that anything she can do to me would heal the gaping wound in my psyche. She can't make me whole. But I don't need Laiken to be my salvation. I can settle for her being my drug - something to neutralize the bitter acid swimming in my veins.
Even if it was brief, she brought out a sensation that I thought was beyond me. Kissing her was a mistake. I know that. But it's a mistake I plan to make again.
I wasn't kidding when I told her that the first whiff of desire I catch on her, I'm going to pounce. Maybe I'm just fucked up, but the idea of chasing her is exciting. I can't wait to do it.
Part of my plan involves moving forward with the one she concocted. Except every time I try to get a hold of my father, it turns out he's not around. This isn't strange. When I was young he was rarely home as well.
I've never known him as anything less than a workaholic. What bothers me is that he isn't telling me what he's doing to try and patch the leak left behind by Joseph. I'm left in the dark to knock on his door, call his phone, and pray that I won't have to run Laiken's idea past my mother.
My father and her are two sides of the same coin. Neither has ever embraced me the way families in feel-good movies do. My father keeps his disgust barely hidden beneath a veneer of strained patience. He's capable of being cordial with me. Annie isn't.
She wears her emotions for me on her well-tailored sleeves. She's never said a good word about me. I've always been a disappointment to her. More than once, I've caught her looking through me, seeing a life in which I don't exist.
Those moments are the only time she graces me with a smile.
That's why I need to prove myself.
I need to show her and the world that my existence matters.
Why the fuck isn't my father answering his phone? I wonder furiously. My car roars out of the driveway. In the rearview mirror I glimpse the estate behind me. It didn't feel like home when I first left it years ago. I was never homesick for it. When I returned, it didn't feel anymore welcoming.
All Laiken wants is to go home, I
think as I pull through the wave shaped gates. I wonder what that feels like. Going home.
Thinking about her brings up the delicious memory of our single kiss in the library. I shudder, slamming my foot on the gas pedal and ripping down the long road that leads to the highway. My estate is in a very private location. I'm not sure if it was my father's choice to stay here after my grandpa died, or if it was just easier to remain in the one place he's always known. He can definitely afford to move anywhere he wants.
As I speed down the pavement, the oak trees blur along my peripheral vision. The green reminds me of the highlights in Laiken's eyes. It's shameful, but I especially like how bright the colors stand out when she's staring up at me with uncertainty. It's thrilling to make someone as confident as her breath faster in my presence.
I didn't used to be like this. The boy I was before I went off to boarding school is less than a memory. He's an imaginary figure in a pretend world that I have no idea how to get back to. I wonder if Laiken does.
I take the exit that brings me close to my father's flagship bank downtown. Most of the work is done here - the real, on-paper-number-crunching-bottom-dollar stuff. No one else knows what Joseph was doing with my father's blessing. The inner workings of that side of our company would destroy us if they got out.
I have to appreciate Joseph's self-preservation, honestly. He knows he can't go to the police. Not unless he wants to end up in a jail cell, and if he's going to be trapped like that, he's smart enough to know that he's better off working under our thumb.
It wasn't enough to keep them from running a second time, though.
I'm so furious with myself. I feel like an idiot, knowing that he played me. Played all of us, I remind myself, to try and soothe my shame. It doesn't work.
I park my car in the covered lot reserved for my father and his most important colleagues. Slamming the door, I lock it and rush to the elevator. I'm hurrying, and it's about more than getting to my father so I can convince him to host a party. No, I feel the string that links back to that damn woman. I'm longing for her like an addict, furious that I'm here and not at her side. The sooner I get this over with, the sooner I can get back to her. I want to spend every second I can breaking her down.
I'm consumed with the idea of making her mine.
I know I can't have her properly. A woman like her is too wild to be content staying trapped in a mansion forever, even if it's with me. I don't want to think about it, but I know that eventually, her and I will have to part ways. Whether that's before or after I find her father remains to be seen.
“Mr. Bradley,” the receptionist says when I exit the elevator. She jumps to her feet behind the crescent shaped white desk, glancing at my father's office door. “He just came back from a meeting, he doesn't want to be disturbed. Can I leave him a message for you or—”
I don't respond. I just knock on the door loudly. “It's me,” I say. There's no response. I wait with my arms folded, not planning to budge until he talks to me.
The receptionists stares like I'm on fire as she sits back in her chair. She's acting cagey, eyes darting to me. When I look her way, she investigates the ceiling then the papers on her desk, like she's doing important work. This isn't because I stormed inside the office. She's fidgeting, a woman ready to dart into the elevator to get as far from me as possible.
She's finally heard the news. Someone has spoiled the broth.
Now she's afraid of me.
I remind myself that I can never allow Laiken to know what I did.
I wouldn't survive her looking at me like that.
The door opens, and my father waves me inside. “Get in here,” he snaps.
I follow him in and shut the door behind me. “Why aren't you answering my calls?”
“Because I am in the middle of figuring out how to handle the loose ends that Joseph left behind. So unless you've brought him with you in the trunk of your car, make this fast.”
“I don't have him, but I do have an idea. Something that will help keep this company from taking a nosedive.”
He sits in his padded leather chair and pours himself a glass from an expensive looking bottle of whiskey. I cringe at seeing him drink. I know how quickly he can spiral, and I know what happens when he spirals. “Tell me you're amazing idea,” he chuckles.
“It's not my idea, it's Laiken's.” My dad lifts his eyebrows, but he let's me continue. “She thinks we should try to have a party. A big event where we can wine and dine some current clients and some new ones, ensuring that we raise our bottom line and prevent the shareholders from scampering off in fear.”
My father swirls his glassed then sips it. “This is her idea, you said?”
“All her.”
“That doesn't make you suspicious?”
“Why would it? Her idea is good, and right now, it's all we have.”
He drains the glass, closing his eyes as he enjoys the burn of the liquid. “You know she's doing this to save her own skin, right? I told her she had to make Annie happy, this is what she comes up with.”
“It doesn't matter to me why she's doing it. What matters to me is that it helps us. And it's going to.”
He considers me with his eyes glittering like dark jewels in the deep hollows of his face. The years have not been kind to him. His skin has sunk into the deep grooves of his cheekbones and every other place it can as the meat beneath erodes away. He reminds me of a dried out piece of fruit.
“Do you plan to help her with this?” he asks, his voice soft and thoughtful.
I nod my head. “I was going to spearhead it. It's easier for me to arrange things than her. I doubt many of the staff will listen to her instructions. But they will listen to me.”
“Of that I'm sure of,” he says, laughing dryly. “Everyone on our estate has heard what happened in Switzerland last year.
I tense up, hoping not to have this conversation now, preferably ever.
“They're terrified of you, you know,” he whispers.
I keep my voice steady. “Good.”
He watches me for a long minute. Refilling his glass, he takes a quick swallow, smacks his thin lips. “Thinking about that whole mess, I wonder if we can even get your uncle to show his face at this party. His connections go very far. If our hope is to get new blood, he could easily bring some in.”
“I can't ask him,” I blurt, shaking my head. I'm losing my cool as I imagine seeing my uncle Vahn's face again. “He hates me, you know he does.”
“And rightfully so,” my father says, talking more to his drink than to me. “I understand the meaning of diplomacy. I'll get someone else to reach out to him. You, meanwhile, should head back and begin the process of arranging this event. It's not worth doing if it won't be done right.”
Excitement trickles up towards my heart. It makes it pump faster. “I'll get right on it,” I say, turning towards the door. As I leave, I think about how much of my life has been this: me visiting my father in a place where he's powerful, where he can fit in his chair and stare down his nose at me. A scene that's repeated so often in my memories, you could switch them around and not tell which happened when.
Uncountable times I've told my father I would do what he's demanded. It should bother me more. It's hard to be upset when I'm getting what I want.
- Chapter 17 -
Laiken
“For the last time, I have no idea why you're asking me this.”
The woman stares at me like I have two heads. She holds up the sheet covered in square blocks of color. “Because someone has to pick the color of the table cloths, and I was told that person was you.”
“Table cloths for what?” I ask in exasperation. “And who would tell you to ask me anything?”
“I did,” Dominic says. I turn and see him standing in the kitchen doorway. His shoulder is propped against the white frame, and with his sandy brown shirt touching the paint, he reminds me of a snowcapped mountain. His eyes stick to me, refusing to move even an inch in any oth
er direction. He's removed all pretenses about his hunger for me, and knowing that, while being under his hot stare, makes me squeeze my thighs together.
The woman sighs, flapping the color board at Dominic. “Sir, she won't pick a tablecloth color.”
A look passes between the two of them. “Wait, is this for what I think it's for?”
The side of his mouth pulls up sharply. “I talked to my father, he says we should move forward with the party.”
I'm blown away. The burst of relief that hits me leaves me boneless in my chair. I'm glad I'm sitting. “Dominic, that's such good news.” I'm grinning so wide that my cheeks hurt.
He moves into the room, and as he does, he brings a sexual energy that I'm not prepared for. My excitement has left me open, and I barely recover before he stands in front of me. “I didn't think it was right to leave the details about the party up to anyone but you, considering it was your idea.”
I inhale, trying not to take in too much of his scent. “That's nice, but expensive things like this aren't really my style. Have you looked at me?” I mean it as a self-deprecating joke. He purposefully runs his eyes over me, like I am a delicious dessert created just for him. I swallow nervously. “My point is I'm not a fancy socialite.”
“Honey,” the woman says, clucking her tongue. “You don't have to be a socialite to decide if you like green or gold or blue. Just pick a color, and we'll go from there.”
I glance up at Dominic and he shrugs. “If you hesitate here,” he says softly, “this party is never going to happen. There's going to be a lot of choices to make.”
Stealing myself, I eyeball the selection of colors with a critical eye. “When is the party going to happen?”
“A week from now, in November.”
I nod to myself. “So it'll be cold, but not quite winter. Is it still okay for things to be white?”
“Go with your gut,” the woman says.
