Those Boys Are Trouble

by Willow Winters

  I should’ve called the cops the moment Dom showed up on my doorstep. Instead, I was foolish. Again. I lose all sense of judgment when he looks at me with those sharp lust-filled eyes. But I can’t afford to be weak. Especially not now. I just need 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 anymore.

  “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, and I'm struggling 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 its heat.

  The faucet turns off with a screech, and I peek my head out from behind 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 lie 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 upright. 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 and countertop. 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 control over me. I’m not sure he means to use it like that. But it doesn’t change the fact 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, all 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 says and 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, replaced with desire. A very unhealthy amount of desire, considering the circumstances.

  The way he controls me, commands me, 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 into 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 and he says, “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, facing 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, Clinique, Gymboree, J. Crew. A Cartier bag catches my eye, 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 skincare items, but no makeup. I sift through the bags and underneath a La Perla bag with perfumed tissue paper is a bag with Lancome makeup. A shit ton of makeup. 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. Yeah, I guess 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, boatneck 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.

  I haven’t met Clara yet, but I like her. Or at least her taste in clothes. Although the scrap of material she calls underwear is not my taste. It’s cute though. Lacy and delicate. Dom would shred it easily. My thighs clench thinking of him ripping through it and taking me again. I bite my bottom lip and scold myself. I know I’m trying to distract myself from everything that happened today, but that kind of behavior wouldn’t be wise.

  The doctor left Dom my pills. I took another codeine and a Valium and I’m not in much pain at all now, other than my ribs being a bit sore as I make my way down the stairs. I have to wince through the pain, but other than that, there’s nothing. I feel too relaxed. I wish I hadn’t taken the Valium; it makes me tired.

  A small smile plays on my lips as I hear Jax laughing. We round the corner of the hall to a large open living room. And there he is, with a monster truck in hand, standing on the back of the sofa, about to push it down a ramp of cushions. It warms my heart all the way down to my toes. My little man. Relief floods through me. Thank God.

  In that moment I feel so much gratitude for Dom. Emotions well up in my chest, and I push them away. My hand reaches for Dom’s, and I squeeze. I don’t know why. But it’s all I can do. He gives my hand a squeeze back and looks at me with curiosity.

  I know I’m in this shit because of him. I’m painfully aware of how fucking stupid I was. And even more so of how Rick is why I’m in this shit in the first place. But he didn’t have to help me. He didn’t have to make sure Jax was safe. He didn’t have to come rescue me. I can’t fucking help the tears running down my face. It’s just too much for me to handle. Too much for me to accept. I push my back against the wall and try to calm myself. Jax is just around the corner, after all; I don’t want him to see me like this.

  “You alright, doll?” Dom brushes my tears away with his thumb. He looks like he doesn’t know what to do. And that makes me laugh. I must look fucking crazy. Crying out of nowhere and then laughing at him. Maybe I am crazy at this point. Maybe this was all I could take. Judging by the look on Dom’s face, he may be thinking I’ve lost it, too.

  “I’m okay. I could be better, but I’m okay,” I finally answer. I wipe my tears and look down at my fingers to make sure I haven’t fucked up the concealer. Nothing. They’re clean. This is some good shit to be able to withstand tears.

  I push myself off the wall, and to my surprise, Dom wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me into him. His embrace is warm and comforting. I shouldn’t like it so much. He’s practically a stranger and definitely a dangerous man. I lean into him knowing all of that. I just need it.

  As soon as I round the corner and Jax catches a glimpse of me, I kneel down and open my arms for him.

  “Mommy!” he yells out, dropping the truck and running to me. It hurts when he slams into my chest, but I don’t care. It feels so good just to hold him. I kiss his forehead and just hold him until he starts to push me away.

  “Do you see trucks?” He runs back over to the pile of cushions and collects a truck to hold it up for me to see. “So big, mommy!” I can’t speak; just looking at him has me too emotional to function, so I nod my head and make sure I’m smiling.

  There’s another little boy jumping on the cushionless sofa with an olive complexion with dark brown eyes and a faux Mohawk. He’s grinning from ear to ear like he can hardly stand the anticipation of the drop.

  “That’s Gino,” Dom huffs a small laugh at the little boy.

  “Is he your nephew?” I ask.

  “Basically.” I think that’s all I’m going to get, but then he continues. “Jimmy’s my cousin, but we grew up together. We’re all close.” I nod as though I understand, but I don’t. I don’t know what that’s like. “You’ll meet him tonight. Clara’s gone already, and Vince only comes home for Saturday and Sunday dinners.”

  An older woman, maybe in her fifties, walks into the room from the kitchen. Her dark black hair with grey streaks is pulled into a chignon bun. Trailing her is the sweet smell of white wine and shrimp. I can only imagine she’s cooking up shrimp scampi or something else that smells just as good. My mouth waters as I lick my lips.

  “Hi, Becca. I’m Linda, Dom’s Ma.” She wipes her hands on a small kitchen towel and walks over to us on the other side of the room. I expect a handshake, but instead I’m greeted with a gentle hug. She looks over my face with a sad smile. “Would you like anything to drink?” It’s not the question I anticipate. But then I remember Dom’s warning about not asking questions.

  I gently shake my head and reply, “I’m fine, thank you.”

  “You say that a lot, you know?” He looks down at me with a quizzical look on his face.

  Linda interrupts our moment. “Shrimp scampi for dinner, it’s almost ready.” I knew it! She says the last bit with a teasing tone. We have shrimp scampi at my bistro. It’s one of my favorite dishes. The reminder of the restaurant makes my gut sink. Dom still has my phone.

  “I need my phone.” I’m blunt, and I hope he doesn’t push me on this. I have a PA that theoretically could handle everything, but in reality she constantly relies on me.

  “Who are you going to call?” At first I’m pissed off at his question. and then I see the threat in his eyes. The cops.

  “Not calling anyone; I just want to check on my business.” He reaches into his pocket and holds it out for me. As I reach for it, he pulls back.

  “Kiss first.” He turns his cheek to me. I roll my eyes, but stand on my tiptoes and plant a kiss on his cheek. For some reason his playfulness makes me feel lighter. And then I look at the phone and see all the messages. Four missed calls and thirty-two unread messages. Fuck. I sigh heavily and start with the texts, but the bottom one catches my eyes.

  All taken care of. No worries. Just feel better!

  I stare at the screen with confusion until Dom answers my unspoken question.

  “I texted her and told her you’d be out of commission for a bit and gave her the number of our manager in case she needed help.”

  “Thank you.” I can’t imagine it’s that easy though. I read through the messages, searching for anything indicating she still needs help. N
othing. She did everything without me today.

  He holds out his hand for the phone back.

  I purse my lips. “I don’t like that.”

  He leans in close to answer, “After what you said upstairs, I’m nervous that you’re going to do something stupid.”

  I shake my head and insist, “I won’t. I don’t know why I said it.”

  “I do,” he says while taking my phone and putting it back in his pocket.

  “What the hell does that mean?” I do. Like he knows me like that.

  “I told you to watch that tone, doll. I’m trying to go easy on you, but you can only push so much.” The threat in his voice does all the wrong things to me. So I simply turn away from him and focus on the two little men playing with their toys who are completely unaware of what’s happened today.

  Dinner has been… telling. Jax is happy and playing with Gino. The men, Jimmy, Dom, and Dom’s father Dante, have been joking and carrying on and playing with the kids. Even Linda’s been poking fun at her husband. It's almost like today never happened. Like they weren’t at a shootout. I’m not sure it’s perfectly healthy, but I like it. I appreciate it. I don’t want to wallow. I want to move on as quickly as possible.

  I lean back slightly in the chair and lick the last bit of white wine butter sauce from my fingers. Linda knows how to cook, that’s for damn sure. I’ve been quiet all dinner except for the dozen times I’ve commented on her food. Jax likes it too, which makes me happy since he hardly ever actually eats anything. I swear he lives off fruit snacks and apple juice.

  Dom puts his hand on my thigh and squeezes. A sense of family and belonging that I haven’t felt in so long overwhelms me. I watch him as he smiles and makes a face at Gino. Is this what it would be like, if what was between us was more? Is that even an option? I never gave it a thought. Never considered it. A man like him doesn’t settle down. But this feels so right.