Dirty Dom: Valetti Crime Family (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance)

by Willow Winters

  Dom

  Becca looks back at herself in the mirror with hollow eyes. I watch her pupils shrink and focus on every tiny mark on her face. Every bruise. She looks beat to hell, because she was. Looking at the marks make my blood boil. I can’t wait to get my hand wrapped around their throats so I can beat them to bloody pulps.

  “I’m going to need better concealer.” She says with no emotion whatsoever. Her fingertips gently touch her face. Tracing a cut over her eye and hovering over a large bruise on her jaw.

  “I’ll get you everything that you need.”

  “We could just make a stop at my house for most things.”

  I shake my head and don’t wait for her to continue her thought, “I sent Clara out a bit ago to get you new things.” Her eyes dart to me in the mirror.

  “That’s very kind, but I don’t need-”

  “It’s not about need. It’s about you pleasing me. I seem to recall you saying you’d do what I asked?”

  Her face falls and I feel like a prick. But she fucking needs this. She won’t let me in any other way.

  “I wanna see Jax.”

  “You should shower first,” as soon as the words are out of my mouth, I wish I could shove them back in. Who am I to keep her away from him? He’s her son. But she really looks like hell. I can only imagine how he’d react seeing his mom all beat up. “If you wanna-”

  “You’re right. I’ll shower first.” She turns around with her back to me and looks at the shower. It’s nothing like what I have at home. I have a state of the art shower system with rainforest heads and a solid bench to relax on with the steam going. It also happens to be good for fucking too. But we’re not at my house, yet. I wanna get her put together before she sees Jax and he’s staying with Ma till then. So instead she’s gonna have to settle for a simple tub and shower set up with a plain white curtain. I mean, it’ll do the trick, but it’s not going to feel nearly as nice, especially on her sore muscles.

  “I have a steam room at my house. Just clean up here and you can relax tonight.”

  She turns her head slowly to look at me. I wish she’d fucking talk to me. A tight smile pulls at my lips. Really though, how much has she said to me since I’ve met her. Nothing really. She’s barely said anything to me. Other than her texts on why we shouldn’t be fucking. I may have looked her up and practically stalked her, but she doesn’t know much about me at all. And I was just doing what I needed to so I could get her in bed.

  It’s painfully obvious that I don’t know this woman. I almost got her killed and I don’t even know her. And she sure as hell doesn’t know me.

  “Go ahead and hop in doll. I’ll sit here and keep you company.” I try to lighten my tone.

  She slips off the baggy shirt I put her in and pulls back the curtain with one hand while covering her body with the other. My eyes linger on every bruise, the bandages around her wrists and ankles.

  I need to get my mind off this shit. I take a seat on the bench by the towel rack and sit back with my ankles crossed.

  “Remember the bandages-” I start but she doesn’t let me finish.

  “I know. I’ll leave them on until I get out.” A moment passes in silence.

  “You like sports doll?” It’s my go-to conversation starter. For all occasions. It’s something I know enough about to dominate the conversation so I just run with it.

  “I was raised a Dolphins fan, so I’m used to hating football by now.” Her sarcastic answer isn’t what I expected. I chuckle and grin with my eyes on her vague silhouette on the curtain.

  “Dolphins? How the hell did that happen?” I ask with the smile still on my face. It’s a rare day when I suggest betting on Miami. But if that’s what she likes, so be it.

  “My Dad liked them. I liked dolphins. It was an easy choice. I mean they are like the only team to go into the super bowl undefeated right?”

  I huff a laugh. “That was like two decades ago.”

  “Still counts.” Her up beat reply makes me grin. “I like watching the games. I used to go out to the bar and watch them every Sunday. Beer, pizza, wings. You know the way it is. It’s a nice escape.”

  “Used to?”

  “Life got busy.” She answers with less enthusiasm making me wish I’d prompted a different question, like who she used to go with. But I know she met her husband in college, so I can guess that answer, and I don’t like it.

  I smirk at the curtain. “So you know something about football?”

  “I know a little. Like I know the game. I just don’t know the players.”

  “What about other sports?”

  Her voice noticeably changes. More engaging, more excited. “Jax plays soccer.”

  “Isn’t he three?”

  “Well, you know he likes to kick the ball on the field.”

  “So your little man is an athlete?” I ask her, but she’s quiet. Her hands have fallen to her side. It’s silent for a moment; the water spray is the only noise I can hear. And then I watch as her hands move to her face and a sob comes from the shower.

  “Doll, you alright?” My stomach drops. I wonder if it’s finally catching up to her now. If she’s going into shock like Doctor Koleman was worried about.

  “Dom?” She finally asks. Her words are muted by the flow of the water. “If something happens to me please don’t take it out on my son.” My heart clenches and my vision blurs. The smile vanishes off my face. “I have money. I’ll do anything-”

  “Stop it Becca. Nothing’s happening to you.” I’m hard with my response, but I don’t fucking like the way she’s talking.

  “I’m not stupid Dom.” Her sad voice carries a heavy weight. “Please just don’t hurt him.” I have to take a deep breath and cover my face with my hands. She thinks I’m gonna hurt her son? I can’t fucking believe it. “We don’t have family, but I have a friend in Texas.” Her voice is tight and full of tension. “It’s been a while, but-”

  “Doll. I’m gonna need you to knock it the fuck off before I lose my self control.” That at least gets her to shut up. “I’m not gonna hurt you or your son.”

  “You’re just going to let me go?”

  No. My internal answer is immediate, but I don’t voice that. I don’t know what I want from her. I know I feel like shit about what happened and that I want to make it right. But that’s all I know for certain. “You can’t go until we have De Luca.”

  “Is that who took me?” She asks with a hesitant voice. We don’t talk business with women. They stay out of it. Always. I don’t know what to tell her. She’s still just standing in the shower. The water’s going to get cold fast if she doesn’t hurry her ass up.

  “Doll wash up.” After a moment she reaches for the body wash. I want her to be at ease; I want her to relax. Letting women know about the business isn’t a smart thing to do. But then again, she’s involved already. “De Luca’s a dead man for what he did to you. I promise you that.”

  Becca

  I let my eyes close for a moment, just feeling the heat on my skin. Calming, relaxing. I focus on the positive. I breathe in deep and slow. It makes my chest hurt, but I ignore it. My entire body feels like it’s throbbing. The bandages around my ankles and wrists are soaked and the heat stings my wounds.

  Focus on the positive. We’re safe. My eyes pop open. That’s a lie. I’m not safe and I haven’t the faintest clue if Jax is safe right now. My son is downstairs, supposedly. If I don’t do what Dom wants, I have no reassurance that Jax will be alright. Tears slip from the corners of my eyes. I’m at the mercy of the mob. I need to get us out of here. I need to get away. I can’t believe I let this happen to Jax. I’ve dragged him into this by being careless. By recklessly falling for him, for his touch.

  Something deep inside me is soothing my worry, telling me it’s alright. Wanting me to believe everything will work out and that Dom is telling the truth. But I’ve listened to that voice before and I’ve been fooled. I refuse to listen to it.

  I should’ve calle
d the cops the moment Dom stepped onto my door step. Instead I was foolish. Again. I lose all sense of judgement when he looks at me with those sharp lust-filled eyes. I can’t afford to be weak. Especially not now. I just needed a moment to figure something out. There has to be a way out of this. But my mind is blank. They’ll kill me if I run. Either the assholes who fucked me up before or Dom and his mob.

  My heart won’t stop racing. It’s trying to beat out of my chest or climb up my throat. My body shudders and I realize the water isn’t quite as hot. It doesn’t feel relaxing any more.

  “De Luca’s a dead man for what he did to you. I promise you that.” I hear the threat in Dom’s voice and it chills me to the bone. I know he saved me but at what cost? What does he want from me? A shiver runs through my body. I know exactly what he wants. But for how long? How long will that keep me safe?

  I hear a faint knock at the bathroom door and it makes my entire body jump. My blood is coursing with adrenaline, my heart’s racing, I struggle to breathe. I need my medicine.

  No, I don’t! I can do this. I’ve done it before. I can get through this. I lean against the tiled wall and try to keep myself from having another panic attack.

  “I’ll be right back, doll.”

  Dom’s confident voice and use of that little pet name makes my body calm. A sense of ease and peace flows through me. I hold onto that for as long as I can. The door opens and a small gust of chill goes through the room, but then it’s gone. I wait for him to speak. I wait for something. But he doesn’t say anything. I stay in the shower for as long as I can. Until the water has lost nearly all of it’s heat.

  The faucet turns off with a screech and I peek my head out from the curtain.

  The room is empty, save a small bit of steam clouding the mirror. He left a fresh towel for me on the bench. I walk out of the stall and quickly wrap it around my body. The bandage on my right wrist is falling. So I slowly and gently unwrap it. And then the rest.

  My chest hardens as I look at my body. Quick flashes of memory appear before my eyes and I fold into myself, crumpling onto the floor and bite down the scream threatening to hurl itself from my mouth. A cold sweat forms on my body and my hands start to shake. My body trembles and rocks. I lay against the tile floor, needing to cool down and focus on my breathing. It’s black. Everything is black. But I can hear them. I think I know what they look like. I see his fist coming for me and a small whimper escapes.

  No!

  I will not let this hurt me. I have to be strong. I push it down. I push everything away. It’s only a memory. It’s only a memory. So many times I’ve had to remind myself.

  This isn’t the first time I’ve been hurt and this will not break me. I won’t let them. I grind my teeth and will the anxiety down. Just as the calmness washes through me, I remember the crash. I see the large oak tree. I hear the screeching tires, my mother screaming. I see my father’s arms fly out. One in front of his face, the other to the passenger seat.

  My eyes fly open and I force myself to sit up right. I will not go back. I will not go back there. It won’t be of any use. I should know. Giving into fears and false hopes only makes the pain grow.

  I stand up and walk to the sink counter top. The ointments are waiting for me along with a few Q-tips, courtesy of Dom. At least he seems to be taking care of me. I’ll feel better once he lets me see Jax. I feel hopeless knowing he has the ability to keep Jax away from me right now. He has the control over me. I’m not sure he means to use it as that. But it doesn’t change the fact that it’s true. I can’t disobey him and risk my son.

  A chill goes through my bones, remembering how I said I’d go to the cops. I bend down and gently rub more ointment into the cuts on my ankles. They’re an angry red. Anger is appropriate. I’m angry at myself for being so stupid.

  Stupid to say that to a man who holds so much power over me, and power in general. And stupid to be reliving the past. It’s been years since I’ve remembered that night. The night my entire world changed and the only family I had died. I look down at my wrists and examine the scratches and raw open cuts. This is nothing. This will heal.

  Shards of glass cut deeper than rope, and that healed. A sickness grows in my gut, it’s not the physical pain that causes the terrors and anxiety. It’s the memory of when the pain happened. I won’t let them haunt me. I can’t. I can’t go back to being useless at the mercy of a memory.

  An image of the tattoo flashes before my eyes. A bright green dragon and a red shield. It’s burned into my memory. That memory. That one I will remember. I won’t forget the men. But I won’t let them continue to hurt me. They may have tortured me and left me to die. But I won’t give them any more of me. I close my eyes and remember Dom’s promise. I nod my head.

  They need to die.

  Becca

  “What’s all this?” Dom’s bed is covered with bags. I hold the towel close to my body. He’s seen me before, but it’s different now. I feel really fucking uncomfortable with his eyes on me.

  “I was going to put it all in the car, but you should take a look at it first.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t really know what you like.”

  “All this is for me?” What the hell?

  “And Jax.”

  “This isn’t necessary.” I shake my head in disbelief. Everything I need is at home.

  “I don’t want you going back to your house.” His voice is hard and unmoving.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Doll,” he walks to me and places a hand on my chin. It takes everything in me not to pull away from him. “You need to learn to not ask questions. Alright?” Fuck that! Who doesn’t ask questions. Although I don’t open my mouth, he must read exactly what I’m thinking all over my face. I’m not all that good about being subtle with my emotions.

  “We’re having a few ex Seals check out your house and set up some surveillance.”

  “What the fuck for?” I almost rip the towel off my body throwing my hands in the air. “I don’t want strangers in my house. I don’t want this!” I scream and give him a vicious look. I was perfectly okay before him. Everything was just fucking peachy before him.

  “First off, I told you to stop asking questions.” He grips my chin and stares into my eyes with a menacing look. “Second, you should really watch that smart mouth of yours.” The heated look in his eyes as he scolds me sends a throbbing need to my clit. My anger instantly dissipates and it’s replaced with desire. A very unhealthy amount of desire considering the circumstances.

  The way he controls me, commands me. It makes me want to submit. My lips part and my eyes soften as he leans down to mold his lips to mine. He pulls back and gentles his hand, moving it to the back of my neck.

  “I got you in this babe. I’m gonna get you out. I’ll make them pay and take care of you. Both of you.” My heart stutters in my chest. I love that he thinks of my son. It’s so easy to fall for this. For him. The thought snaps me out of the lust-filled haze.

  His hand tightens on the nape of my neck, “uh, uh.” His eyes narrow. “Don’t you dare shut me out again.” My eyes widen slightly. “Yeah, I know that look doll.” A cocky smirk pulls his lips up. He rests his head on my forehead. “You can’t hide from me, Becca.” His voice is low, but it’s reassuring not threatening.

  It scares the fuck out of me.

  “Can I see Jax now?” I ask in a timid voice I don’t recognize. I clear my throat and square my shoulders. He’s my son. And I want to see him now. It feels like it’s been days since I’ve seen him. It’s a feeling I don’t like. I look around the room again for clothes. “I need to get dressed.”

  “Of course, doll.” His fingertips lightly play along my jaw. “You wanna cover this up? Just so it doesn’t scare the little guy?” I stare into his light blue eyes with a heavy heart. I wonder if that’s on his mind because he’s used to this kind of thing. Women covering up their bruises. The thought makes me turn away from him. I swallow thickly with my back to him, f
acing the bed.

  “Did you happen to grab any makeup?” I ask quietly. It feels wrong to ask for things from him. But there are so many bags on the bed. I see a few names I recognize, Nordstrom’s, Clinique, Gymboree, J. Crew. A Cartier bag catches my eyes and I inhale a sharp breath. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. What would I need jewelry for? Surely, that’s not for me. And it sure as fuck isn’t for Jax.

  “Clara did. I gave her the black Amex so I’m sure she just went crazy with it.” He answers casually and I just try to take it all in.

  I pick up the Clinique bag and spot a few skin care items, but no make up. I shift through the bags and under a La Perla bag with perfumed tissue paper is a bag with Lancome make up. A shit ton of make up. I pick it up along with the Clinique bag and take it to the bathroom.

  “Take your time, doll.” I give him a tight smile with my head down. I don’t like this. I feel… cheap. At the same time my lack of gratitude eats away at me.

  “I’ll pay you back for everything.” I manage to get out as I turn the handle to the en suite.

  “You can afford all that?” He asks, his voice laced with disbelief. I look at the bed and try to take it all in. If I sold my restaurant today. Maybe. I bite the inside of my cheek. “You’re not paying me back, Becca.”

  I let his words sink in. They dig at my pride. I don’t need his help. Fuck. Yes I do. I have to accept that. But I wish I didn’t.

  I’m covered from head to toe. A cream, boat-neck cashmere sweater covers my wrists and the bruises on my arms. Dark burgundy yoga pants and a pair of comfy socks cover everything from my hips down. I don’t think I’ve ever worn such luxurious clothing. It looks the same as some clothing I have and it’s definitely my style, but it feels like heaven.