by Evie Harper
Noticing Dom hasn’t questioned why we’ve stopped, I glance over my shoulder and catch him, still hunched over, grasping his right leg and staring at me, wide awake but as white as a ghost. “How’s your hand?” is the first thing out of his mouth.
My jaw drops open, and a fluttering begins in my stomach. “Fine, but you look terrible,” I reply, jumping out of my seat and then opening the back door. My eyes follow his arms and land on his blue shirt now partially soaked in blood. It's pressed tightly up against his calf.
“Bullet hole or graze?” I ask in a business-like tone. I’m proud of myself for keeping my voice steady, the complete opposite to how I’m feeling on the inside.
“Graze,” Dom replies with a hiss as he removes the shirt from his leg.
Wrinkling my nose, I recoil at the deep gash showing his flesh and the slowing blood that still seeps from the wound. “Do you have a first-aid kit in the car?”
Dom nods. “In the trunk.”
Grabbing the kit out, I instruct Dom to turn onto his stomach. He does, gritting his teeth in pain.
Kneeling at the back door, I unfold the kit on the gravel ground and begin by folding up the jeans leg and cleaning Dom's wound, as well as the blood off his leg and ankle. He makes no more sounds of discomfort. Only the arch of his back and the whites of his knuckles grasping the seat show his agony.
Unwrapping the gauze and placing it over the wound, I can’t help but stare at the many tattoos Dom has on his back. Even so, only one catches my full attention. It has two hands joined together by rosary beads, and with calligraphy font, the words "This I’ll Defend. Family and Faith." are written below it.
“Can I ask you something?” I ask while beginning to wrap the bandage around his leg.
“Of course,” Dom replies and drags his eyes to mine at the same time.
“Your family, you once told me they kicked you out. That you had nowhere to go but to the streets. Is that true?”
Slowly, Dom closes his eyes and presses his lips together firmly. After a moment, he answers, “No, I had loving parents. They were proud of me. No matter what I did, I had their encouragement and support.”
I freeze bandaging when my breath hitches and tears form in my eyes. Being told the man you love is a fraud is one thing, but hearing the actual words from him is something completely different. I’m surprised my chest is still able to ache after everything I’ve been through. Did I hold out hope? If I did, it was hidden deep inside of myself, and it just shattered to dust.
My lips itch to give my condolences at catching the "had" in his words, to ask if he’s okay. However, the hurt swirling inside me wins out. “So you thought the poor street kids who starved and slept in cardboard boxes would relate to your story?” I finish wrapping his leg and pull it as tightly as I can at the end. Dom grunts in pain and I quickly secure the bandage with a clip, and stand, brushing off my knees. “You knew exactly how to play us, didn’t you?”
Dom turns to his left side and sits up, “Della.” He grunts again, cupping his leg to keep it steady.
The last thing I want is to stand here and listen to more lies, so I slam the back door closed and jump into the driver seat. All I want is to be as far away from Dom as I can get. And to do that, we need to haul ass to Minnesota.
“It was my job. I didn’t know you then.” His defeated tone almost cracks my resolve; almost.
“Save it. It’s my own fault. I should have known better than to trust anyone.” My eyes spot the pain medication. Squeezing my eyes closed for a second and then opening them, I pick up the bottle and throw them at Dom in the back, “You should probably take two of those.”
Taking out my phone, I open my maps app and get directions to Aurora. Two hours away. I start the car and put us back onto the highway. My stomach grumbles and I check the time. It's two in the afternoon. No wonder I'm hungry. All I’ve had was the hospital's terrible breakfast muesli, and I missed lunch altogether.
Moments later, Dom grasps both sides of my seat, and his knuckles brush the backs of my arms. “Everything was a lie… until I fell for you.” Tears prick my eyes, but I refuse to glance at the rearview mirror. He tightens his grip on my seat. “Every look, touch, and kiss were real, and I’m so sorry my mistakes made you doubt that.”
Dom’s tortured tone causes my tears to finally fall. I don’t speak or look back at him. I’m afraid if I do, I’ll crumble back into that girl who was stupid enough to believe him in the first place.
When he releases my chair, it feels as if he's released his tight grip on my heart and it restarts its beating. More tears fall at the loss. Hating a foe is simple. Clear lines are drawn. The want to leave them behind is easy. However, hating a lover, there are no clear battle lines, only blurred vision with an intense need to miss the one who hurt you. I wish I loathed him. I crave to become numb to him. I want to forget each beautiful moment we’ve shared.
I hate that I love him.
***
We reached Aurora at five and drove around for about half an hour looking for a hotel. Dom and I went from not talking at all, to agreeing on which turns to take through the city and deciding on a hotel to stay in. We pushed our problems to the side and worked together. It felt like the early days when Brett, no, Dom and I first danced around our feelings. It took a while for both of us to be honest with the other person. It was worth it, though; the flirting and stolen touches are some of my most favorite memories in my entire life. Just walking down the stairs in my home and hearing his voice was a high of its own. However, when things around us got intense, and my brothers called on him to go in between because trouble was coming with the Poison Boys, we were able to put our feelings aside and know what was most important: staying alert and protecting family.
Well, at least I thought he was.
Parking the car in the Motel 6, I notice how deserted it seems to be with only two other cars here.
I sigh and relax into my chair. We made it. Only halfway there, but after the events of today, that’s something to be proud of.
“Here.” Dom hands me a credit card with his full name on it. Dominic Haynes. “I don’t think we’ll get away with checking-in and them not calling the cops if I do it half naked. You go, and I’ll grab our bags out of the trunk.” He opens his door, and just as he’s about to hop out, my cell phone starts ringing.
Snatching it up from the center console, I see Slater's name on the screen, “Shit. This is not going to be pretty,” I say, biting my lip nervously.
“Do you want me to answer?” Dom offers, but then the ring tone ceases.
“Crap! We missed it. I have to ring him back,” I say while clumsily swiping my phone screen to get Slater's number. “He’s going to be flipping out.”
My phone rings again, and my heart races at a speed that causes me to feel breathless. Hitting answer straight away so not to miss the call, I stupidly look to Dom first, who points to the phone and then my ear, but we can both already hear Slater calling my name. I hit the speaker button, and the car fills with my big brother's furious voice. “Della!”
“I’m here. I’m safe. Everything is okay. I promise.” I stammer my words.
“Where are you?” Slaters demands. There's an unmissable edge in his voice.
Knowing my next words are going to set him off, I take a big breath in to steady my voice. “I’m not in Portland. I’m on my way to Minnesota…” There’s silence. Slater says nothing, so I decide to continue, “With Dom.”
“That lying, fucking piece of shit. I told him no…” Flinching from Slater's cutting words, I turn to Dom who's resting on the seat, his head arched back, staring at the car ceiling. Dom told me he went to Slater first with this plan and of course, my brother told him no way. I could have told him that. Slater can’t let go of any situation when it involves our family, even if it means protecting the majority of us. I understand. I just don’t always have to agree or do as he says. There’s one thing through all this I do know about Dom; he fucked up
, time and time again. However, I do believe he’s trying to fix his biggest mistake, and that was selling me out to Lucini. No matter our feelings, he’s already done enough for me to hope he’s committed to righting that wrong.
Steeling my resolve, I decide it's time to tell my brother what’s going to happen and stop letting everyone else decide how my battles should be fought, “…when I get my hands on that bastard, I’m going to tie him to a tree and slam Chevy into him over and—"
“Slate,” I shout down the phone and Dom jumps to alert from my sudden yell. “Stop, just stop, please. This was my decision. He didn’t kidnap me. I came of my own will, and it was the right thing to do.”
“Della, tell me now where you are, and we’ll all come. We’ll all go to Minnesota. You don’t need to do this on your own.”
“I’m not alone,” I whisper and look anywhere but at Dom. “I left to protect you all. Anyone near me right now is only going to get hurt.”
“Has something happened? What do you mean by that?” Slater rushes out his words, and the concern and fear in them break my heart. He’s spent his whole life worrying. I wonder if he’s ever had one peaceful day in his life.
My eyes seek out Dom. He’s shaking his head, and I understand what he’s trying to say: telling Slater about today will only increase his anger and panic.
“Nothing has happened, Slate, and we’re already halfway to Hastings. Lucini and his goons have no idea where I am or where I’m going. You guys keep going to the hospital. Make it look like I’m still there recuperating.” Dom's forehead creases at my words and all I can do is shrug and mouth, “What was I supposed to say?”
“I don’t like this, Dell, but you aren’t giving me any other choice except to sit on my fucking hands and do nothing. I’m going to call you every damn day. You pick up. You tell me what the hell is going on. And if the fuckers catch up to you, I want to be the first to know. Understood?”
“Got it,” I reply quietly. “You have to trust that you brought me up to be able to look after myself. I’m twenty-six, Slate, a grown woman, and I feel so much older than that number. It feels as if I’ve lived a thousand lives. I’ve seen and been through so much more than most in this world. You need to have faith in me that I can do this, and let me protect you guys this time.”
“I’ll never stop worrying about you, sis.”
A bubble of nervous laughter escapes me, along with a few tears, but I wipe them away quickly when a chilly breeze comes in through the car windows, and I remember it’s getting late. “Well, I need to go. We’re checking into our motel now.”
“Okay, I’ll call you in the morning. Make sure the room has two separate beds.”
“Jesus.” I laugh, my cheeks heating up. “Goodnight, Slater. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” I end the call and look straight to Dom who's wearing a grin on his face.
“Shut up.” I flash the credit card in the air. “So this is good to use? It won’t get flagged as stolen, or I won't get done for fraud?” I’m joking, but there’s a hint of a real question in my words.
Dom’s grin falls away. "No. That's my actual name.” His features change into a serious mask. “No more lies, Della. I promise what you get now is nothing but who I really am.”
Pressing my lips firmly together, I nod, jump out of the car, and head for the reception desk.
Glancing over my shoulder at Dom now lifting our bags out of the trunk, I imagine what it would be like to be at a motel with a boyfriend on a romantic getaway or maybe with my husband on our honeymoon. I stop walking and stare harder. Was there some sort of life test which I failed? Fisting my hands, my anger at this world grows. I don’t want to be the broken girl who's constantly destined to walk through a darkened, gloomy fog. When will the light break through? Books and movies foretell that someone who’s handled great pain will greet a wonderful ending. When is mine coming? Haven’t I bared enough? I sigh. I fear I’ll always be hidden behind a glass wall, watching but too afraid to step through. What if I’ll always only be on the outside looking in?
Chapter Five
Della
Hiccups follow my sobbing and then a hissing sound escapes my mouth as Slater attempts to clean a bruised cut on my shoulder with a cloth from our bathroom. It's one we wash and keep for ourselves for situations just like this. Phillip struck me with the belt, and as usual, he used the metal buckle.
“Try and stay still, Dell. I’m almost done.”
“He gave me a list,” I stammer through my tears. “Said them all one by one quickly-” A hiccup interrupts my sentence. “I couldn’t remember them all.”
Slater throws the blood-covered cloth into the sink and turns my chin to him. “This is not your fault, Dell. You're just a kid, and he’s a monster. One day, we’ll get out of here. I promise.”
My chin trembles and Slater hugs me tightly. I wrap my legs and arms around him as he carries me to my bed and tucks me in. He climbs on top of my covers, sits beside me, and begins telling me a story.
My three other brothers jump onto the bed next to mine. At times like this, when one of us has been hurt, we all know what that person needs; closeness, familiarity, and family.
Slater starts to tell my favorite story, the one that Piper reads to us. We don’t even need the book anymore. We all know it by heart as it’s the only story we’ve ever owned. Even so, it’s best when Slater and Piper read it together because Slater does the funniest bear voice and Piper’s voice is sweet enough I imagine it’s how Goldilocks really sounds, but Piper is downstairs doing chores so only Slater can right now.
The familiar sound of heavy boots coming up the stairs causes everyone in the room to still. Slater stops midsentence and turns to my other brothers. Mackson stares at the door with a pale face while Kelso has his eyes closed tightly, curling into his body, and Pacer’s whole body shakes with fear.
Slater stands from my bed, and I notice his shaking hands, so I peer up at him and see one lone tear fall from his eye. The footsteps get closer then suddenly, the door furiously swings open and—
“Della!” My eyes bulge open, and the first thing I see is Dom bent at the waist peering down at me, his hands holding onto my shoulders. My heart's racing and I’m breathless. The world around me spins, yet I understand enough that I’m already lying down.
“You were screaming.” Dom looks down at my body. “You’re shaking.”
Attempting to get my breathing under control, I move up the bed to a sitting position. Within seconds, Dom has his arms around my waist, and he’s hugging me tightly. My arms suspend in the air, just above the warmth of his body. However, it’s not long before I drop them and melt into his embrace, sensing his worry and also acknowledging to myself that his presence and touch are helping to calm my erratic heart.
“What was that, Della?”
Turning my head on his shoulder, I exhale a heavy breath. “That was a piece of my past.”
“You sounded scared,” Dom states with a soft voice. “That name—”
“Please don't say it,” I rush out.
Dom tightens his hold on me and asks in a gravelly voice, “Please tell me he died a painful death.”
I nod. “My brothers told me he got exactly what he deserved.”
Hearing Dom release a loud exhale and, sensing myself beginning to feel normal, I push back from him with my good arm, needing space between us.
Where is that line again?
Dom releases me without a fight, but doesn’t move away. His eyes burn with a knowing observation, and I begin shuffling backward, swallowing through my dry throat. I look anywhere except at Dom.
“My full name is Dominic James Haynes. I’m thirty-two years old. My mother's name is Helen, and my father is James. I don’t have any siblings. My parents always said I was enough trouble for two.” Dom laughs and I would also, except I’m unsure what he’s trying to accomplish. “My dad died when I was nineteen of a heart attack and mom passed when I was twenty-five from bone cancer. They loved e
ach other very much, but my mom was still able to pick herself back up when my dad died to take good care of me.” Pressing my lips together softly, my eyes well with sadness and he notices immediately. “Don’t be sad. They both lived wonderful lives. I told you my story because a moment ago, even if you didn’t mean to, you gave me a piece of yourself, and I wanted to give you a piece back.”
My mouth falls slack. No, I gave him nothing. He deserves nothing.
Shaking my head and pushing the blankets back, I step out of the bed and away from the man who is determined to break through my well-constructed walls.
While my eyes roam wildly around the room, I miss when Dom stands and moves toward me. He cups my face with both his hands, forcing me to stare straight at him. His eyes spark with an intense determination, which causes my heart to skip a beat.
“I. Love. You.” Dom’s voice is rough with emotion, but his words are spoken with clarity and conviction.
Tears prick my eyes and pressure builds in my chest. “You hurt me, just like all the others.”
Dom's body stiffens, and his forehead pinches while his expression becomes pained. “I know, and I’m so fucking sorry for that. I didn’t know Jae hurt you. I didn’t know about your childhood. I didn’t fucking know any of it, or else I promise I would have made different decisions.”
Pushing on Dom's chest with all my strength, I put much-needed distance between us. “Don’t say his name,” I scream.
Rage simmers below the surface as my chest rises and falls heavily. “You broke me.” Dom's face blanches. “Out of every man who destroyed me, you are the one who ruined me. Because I loved you.” I end on a shout. “I pushed aside my fears for you. I slept with you after I was raped.” My voice turns soft, and my eyes fall to the floor in shame; the same involuntary reaction I always have when thinking or talking about my rape. I'm not something I’m sure I’ll ever overcome. After a moment of silence between us, my eyes land on Dom. He’s staring at me with a deeply indented frown, his pale face highlighting his agonized eyes. “Do you know what that does to a woman? To give herself to a man after having that stolen from her? Only to be told it was a mistake? It altered my existence. It broke the last remaining piece of hope I had, which I'd given to you.” I fist my hands in the air with frustration, even my still-healing wrist, not caring if I’m hurting myself. All I can think about are the tears streaming down my face and the painful memories that are twisting up my insides. “Then imagine hearing that, even though you broke my heart in two, it wasn’t real anyway: the love or the pain.”
