Chapter 10
“What exactly did Mia tell you?” The look on Dom’s face said, don’t fuck with me.
Leon wanted to kick himself for breaking Mia’s confidence. He hadn’t meant to. It just came out like things often did when arguing with Dom. Sometimes he wondered if the big guy didn’t set it up that way on purpose. He always seemed to know when something was being hidden from him. Like a shark in chummed waters he’d circle, lurking in shadows but getting closer and closer with each pass and then, when his prey least expected it, charge in for the kill. Everyone knew he did it, but none of them ever saw it coming fast enough to escape it, that single question, asked in a quiet yet dangerous tone.
Lying was the only defense but Leon couldn’t remember even one time lying had worked. Dom’s head would cock to the side and his eyes would narrow. Those Popeye style forearms would cross and he’d wait. Dom should have been an interrogator.
Sorry as he was for spilling Mia’s beans, he would be sorrier still if he tried to argue about it with Dom. Arguing with Mia wasn’t fun either but it was a joy when compared to the alternative. They’d fight for a couple days and then she’d forgive him, she always did. With a sigh of resignation he admitted, “She told me everything, Dom.”
Dom deflated, leaning hard on the old Firebird. He almost looked relieved, but not quite.
Leon leaned on the car beside his friend. You gotta get over this, Dom. You have to pull this family back together. Cause the rest of us can’t. Dom was leaning forward, his brow was furrowed, eyes closed. Leon clapped him on the shoulder admonishing, “She didn’t mean it, Dom. You know she didn’t.”
Dom sighed and it seemed to drag on forever, like the final exhale from someone dying. He rubbed a bandaged hand over his face mumbling, “Leon, it’s none of your business.”
Leon shrugged. “Maybe not, but if something like this was goin’ down between any of us you would be right in the middle of it, Dom. I’m just doin’ for you what you would do for the rest of us.”
Dom said nothing, kicking at a clod of dirt with his boot.
Why do you have to be so stubborn? Leon felt like shaking Dom, knocking some sense into his thick head. Instead he said, “She’s your sister, man. The only blood you got. Your head so far up your ass that you would lose your family over something this stupid?”
Leon was a little surprised that Dom didn’t rise to his challenge. Instead Dom continued staring at the ground starting to say, “She thought…”
Leon cut him off. “Man, ever wonder why she would think that? Don’t know what’s going on in here,” He grabbed Dom’s shaved head and shook it, “but you’ve been outta control lately.”
Dom pulled his head away but said nothing.
Leon looked into the garage. Jesse was busy with the Jaguar. Vince was glaring out at them. Guess he’s still mad. He glanced at Dom. He didn’t look much happier. “Why don’t you go home, Dom. We’ll stop by tonight and have a cookout.”
~~~~~
“Where’th he goin’?” Vince shouted as Dom’s car roared out of the parking lot.
“Talked him into goin’ home,” Leon replied. The bumps and bruises on Vince’s face had begun to swell and he looked terrible. Wishing his friends were capable of some other form of conflict resolution, he said, “Told him we’d come by tonight. Dunno what’s up with him, but I think we need to circle the wagons.”
Vince spit blood onto the floor and wiped his mouth with the back of one bandaged hand mumbling, “Fuck him.”
Leon reached wits end. He needed space and he needed it now. The only person he could tolerate was Jesse. He’s the only one that isn’t insane, Leon thought. Pointing a very Dom like finger into Vince’s face he commanded, “V, I am not in the mood for your shit right now. Get your ass to work or go home. We’re gonna meet up at Dom’s tonight, like 8. You will be there, you will patch shit up. He’s your best friend.”
Vince started to protest but Leon cut him off. “I don’t wanna hear it. Jes’ll drive you home.”
Watching them walk out the door, Leon sat down on the hood of the bloodied Integra. When did I become a father? And why the hell did I have to get stuck with Bebe’s kids?
~~~~~
He should have heard them on the steps. They made more than enough noise to announce themselves, but it still didn’t dawn on Dom that he had an audience until Chaisee panicked and tried to hide her face in his arm.
It was at that moment, with her squirming underneath him, that his alcohol addled brain remembered everyone was coming over for dinner. Oh, shit. He raised his eyes to meet the reproachful stares of his three best friends.
“Whad da fuck are you doin’, Dom?” Vince demanded, sounding so much like Daffy Duck with a head cold that Dom almost laughed at him.
Pulling the blanket off the back of the couch and pushing it between himself and Chaisee, he got off of her. She made a hasty covering of the blanket and darted away for the bathroom leaving him naked save the condom. He was too drunk to care. “You got that right, Vince. I was fucking.”
Leon was staring at the bathroom door. “Is that who I think it is?”
He wanted them to leave. He’d been out of his mind, which was exactly where he wanted to be, seconds before and the details hadn’t mattered then. He didn’t want them to matter now. Rubbing his hand over the rough stubble covering his head he mumbled, “What’s it matter? Gimme 10 minutes and then we can eat.”
All three of them stared at him like he was crazy.
He shrugged. “Okay, gimme 5.”
Leon dropped the bags he was carrying on the floor and turned on heal, saying, “Man, you got all night. Fuck this shit.”
Jesse and Vince followed him, nearly colliding with him when he stopped at the door. Without turning Leon said, “Dom, this is bullshit and you know it. Isn’t just your life you’re fucking up now.”
Dom’s head hung at the rebuke so he didn’t see them leave. Instead he heard the engines, each uniquely identifiable, Maxima, Jetta, Skyline. The screech of tires belonged to Vince who seemed to think they grew on trees.
“What did he mean, Dom?” Chaisee had drifted back into the room. She was a vision, one he wasn’t supposed to be having. She let the blanket fall, long black hair covering her breasts, hanging to her hips like a curtain. Between thick black columns was a small, carefully manicured triangle of ebony.
He didn’t want to think about what Leon meant. Stretching out a hand to her, pulling her in to him when she took it, he mumbled, “Where were we?”
She resisted his pull, leaning in to his ear, whispering, “Can’t we finish this upstairs?”
Unwilling to take her to his bed, unsure why and not ready to think about it, he wrapped both arms around her, pulling her down to the couch. In one quick move he had her on her back, his body atop hers. “Here works just fine for me.”
Chaisee didn’t seem to care, eagerly picking up where they left off.
Dom spent little time basking in the afterglow. Tired and spent, he was fairly sure he would sleep if he went to his bed. Chaisee had different ideas.
She snuggled into him, lips grazing his ear. “You’re as amazing as I always thought you’d be. I’m so glad we’ve finally gotten together.”
He was exhausted and not in the mood to talk. “Thanks for the compliment, babe. Not bad yourself.”
“Ever since the day I laid eyes on you, I wanted you. Johnny told me to forget it. You and Letti would never break up and even if you did… But now you’re with me and I am one lucky girl.” She kissed him again.
Wait, what did she just say? He rolled over on his side, squeezing as far back into the couch pillows as he could. Her eyes were closed and a small smile danced on her lips. She looked so happy. Shit, shit, shit! His head fell back into a pillow. “I dunno about that, Chaisee. Pretty sure Letti doesn’t think she was that lucky now.”
Her face fell and Leon’s earlier words came back to haunt him. He’d known better than to mess with Johnny Tran’s little sister. Hoping to appease her while not promising anything specific he said, “Let’s see how it goes okay?”
~~~~~
The bass beat pounded, thudding through her body, willing her hips to sway and her feet to move. Mia threw her head back and laughed. This was a party.
“Here, Mia, take this.” Trevor put a plastic cup in her hand as he shouted in her ear. Mia almost spilled it, the feverish pitch of the music refusing to relinquish its grip on her body.
He began to dance beside her, drinking from a similar cup. She liked the way he moved, surprised that a white frat boy could dance to a Latin beat. It was in her blood, a gift from the mother she’d never known. Without knowing it, she lost the rhythm, her feet slowing.
“You all right?” Trevor shouted, pulling her off the makeshift dance floor that had once been the fraternity house’s dinning room. Putting an arm around her waist he guided her into another room where the music wasn’t quite as loud. “What happened back there?”
Determined to have a good time, even if it killed her, she forced a smile back onto her face. Raising the glass to her lips, she took a sip of the fruity drink, “What’s this?”
“Never been to one of our parties before have you? Jungle juice.” He flashed her a brilliant smile.
He was easily the most handsome man in the building and he never took his eyes off her. Mia took another swallow, and flashed him a sincere smile when she heard the music change to something with more of a techno beat. “Dance with me some more?”
He offered her a hand, which she took and spun her into him, laughing at the spray of jungle juice that followed her. “C’mon then, let’s go.”
~~~~~
The bottle tipped over on the couch beside him, vodka spilling onto the cushion. Chaisee had left an hour ago and the house was empty. He’d done little more than toss the spent condom into the wastepaper basket and retrieve the vodka bottle from it’s home in the freezer.
The TV was on, but even the loud blaring of the music videos did little to distract his thoughts. He turned the bottle upright when the cold liquid seeped under his thigh. Taking a long pull from the now half empty bottle, he grimaced as he swallowed.
It isn’t just your life you’re fucking up now, Leon had said.
He stood up and went to get his cigarettes out of the pocket of his jacket which hung by the front door. He tried not to look out the window knowing where his eyes would go and not wanting to see what he knew was there. It happened anyway, his eyes refusing to cooperate with him.
It had started to rain but through the thin veil of falling water, he could see Marco’s car parked in Letti’s driveway.
Shaking a cigarette from the pack he dug for his lighter. The lights were off in Letti’s room. Sleeping or fucking, Dom didn’t know, didn’t really want to know but wondered about just the same. Did she love Marco? Had it started before they broke up? Did he make her happy? Was Marco everything he never could be?
The weight of each question was crushing and he could not stop their flow. They raced like a river flooding its banks into the reservoir of his head, filling it beyond capacity. He felt like it would explode.
The cigarette wasn’t enough. The vodka wasn’t enough. There was no release to be found in either vice. Sex with Chaisee hadn’t helped, the momentary bliss blinding him to the additional weight the act now burdened him with. It never should have happened.
Lost and alone, feeling like he was standing on the edge of a huge cliff and a wind was rising, he crawled up his stairs and into his room. Struggling into pants and a tee shirt he grabbed his keys and stumbled out of his house to his car, the last place in the world he knew to seek peace.
~~~~~
Letti heard the roar of an engine and the squeal of tires that said Dom had left his house and was probably drunk. He was usually more careful with his tires than that, saving them for the races when they could pay for their replacements.
Moving to sit in the window box she stared out into the rain. He’d left the porch lights on. Tears tried to well in her eyes but she refused to let them. Screw Dom, let him kill himself driving around in a speed bomb drunk off his ass, she thought. Prayer followed, quick and humble, please God, keep him safe.
Marco was talking to her, his voice distant but growing louder.
“You should talk to Leon and Jesse. They’re your best friends, right? Back in the day, they used to run with me. Did you know that?” He paused and when she said nothing continued, “Yeah, went to jail to keep them out of it. Love those two like brothers. Tried to talk to them but seems like Dom poisoned them against me. Fuckin’ prick, always did want everything I had.”
“I never saw that. He never even mentioned you.” Letti said quietly, thinking, none of them did. I never knew Leon and Jes even knew you. .
Marco’s bruised face wore a dark expression. “How did you miss it, Letti? I swear you and his sister are the only people that don’t see that bastard for what he is. Dom’s an asshole, always was. He doesn’t share the limelight. That’s why you were his trophy, you know, so he could be big man. Has to keep people down to lift himself up.”
“What?” She was only half listening to his ranting, beating Dom up behind his back while he was out driving drunk in the rain felt wrong.
“Dom used to bully folks, still does. Anyway, I had this circle of friends, people I was cool with and Dom poisoned them when he got to high school, just like he did in junior high and grade school. Never did figure out why he has it in for me but he always takes what I got or what I want.”
He’d said that to her several times, that Dom always took what he wanted. Tired of the repetition she finally asked the expected question. “What did you want that he took from you?”
“You. I always wanted you but he had your heart. Even when he didn’t want it, when he was a total asshole, whenever you and I started to get close he’d swoop in, be nice for 15 seconds and you’d follow him away from me. Don’t blame you for that, you were young and he was your first crush. I do blame him for that shit though. He knew. He fucking knew and he did it on purpose.”
Never should have asked. “You’re wrong, Marco. Back then, he would have been happy to get rid of me. He would a pawned me off on anyone who wanted me. I stayed. My fault. ” Bitterness welled up, anger at herself for being so stupid. He’d never wanted her, ever. Curling into a tight ball she leaned her head against the cool glass of the window.
Marco climbed out of the bed and grabbed her arm pulling her to him, growling, “Not to me he wouldn’t have.”
~~~~~
She’d opened all the windows, letting the clean scent of the rain waft in chasing away the metallic burn of the LA smog. Claudia sat by the fire as she often did in the evenings, Vivaldi’s Four Season’s playing softly in the background. A tall crystal wine glass filled with a fine cabernet sat beside her, the bottle resting on the coffee table.
It was a quiet night and she relished it, fully aware that nights such as this would be in short supply as soon as her dad returned. Curling her feet beneath her, she reached for her book. It was battered and worn, the cover attached with duct tape. Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre.
It took less than a paragraph before Claudia’s imagination whirled her away to a grand manor house in the English countryside. The trials and tribulations of Jane became her own, and she could almost feel the rustle of a great skirt at her ankles and the constricting bind of a corset as she chased after an impetuous child through a maze of stone hallways. Entrenched in the fictional world, she had no idea how many times the doorbell rang before it’s trill jolted her back to reality.
With all the grace of a scared rabbit she hopped out of the huge leather chair and bounded to the window to see if she could get a peak at whomever was at her door.
Sitting in her driveway was a very familiar fire red RX7.
“What’s he doing here?” she wondered aloud, hurrying out of the library into the foyer. Just before the door she caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror and cringed. Pulling a tie from her wrist she clawed her hair into a loose approximation of a ponytail while grimacing at her pajamas. Bright red and shapeless, they fell far short of attractive. No time to do anything about this, she thought with an apathetic shrug.
Taking a deep breath, she flung open the door to find him halfway down the stairs headed for his car.
“Dom?” she called, wondering if he hadn’t heard the door open.
He stopped and turned around, his head down.
But I though we decided… What are you doing here? Are you okay? From the look of him, it was clear he wasn’t. Her internal debate of distraction vs. lance resumed with full fury. Once again choosing to err on the side of caution she decided to act as if nothing was wrong. Standing in the doorway, aware she was backlit and her face was in shadow she asked in the lightest tone she could muster, “Come in, won’t you?”
He didn’t respond, swaying and staring at the ground between them. His shoulders drooped and he was soaked, like he had been outside far longer than the time it had taken to get from his car to the doorbell.
Barefoot and freezing, Claudia walked down the stairs, feeling the rain spatter on her head and shoulders as she went to him. Stepping in close she looked up at his face only to be defeated by shadow. He remained silent and unmoving, giving no sign that he was even aware of her presence. I don’t know what to do here, Dom, her heart cried out to him. Help me help you.
Taking his hand, mindful of the boxer like bandaging, she was surprised by how cold it was. Definitely coming in the house to at least warm up. She pulled and he offered no argument, his heavy steps echoing behind her as he splashed through puddles. Leaping over the last puddle she ducked into the house dragging him behind her. He set his keys on the table under the mirror but did not look into it. Resting both hands on the table, his head drooped and his legs nearly gave out before he caught himself.
“Dom?”
At the sound of his name he turned and faced her, arms crossed over his chest, feet planted firmly against a chill induced tremor and alcoholic sway. There was a cut on his cheek and a bruise down by his jaw line. Dark circles underscored his eyes and she wondered if their cause was a fight or lack of sleep. All of it was bad, but what frightened her was the dead look in his eyes.
Wanting to help, knowing he needed her to, but unsure what to do, she sought comfort in the physical. It took two steps to get there. Grasping his clammy flesh she uncrossed his arms and wrapped her own around him. Burying her face in the chill of his wet shirt she squeezed. After a moment she felt his arms circle her back and his chin rest on top of her head.
She held on to him, shivering and dripping wet, until the puddle under them had grown to encompass the entire tile medallion set into the floor. She would have stayed there forever, at ease in those giant arms, but her frozen toes had other ideas. Convinced they were about to fall off, she stepped out of the embrace. “Aren’t you cold? I know I am. Come on, there’s a fire in the library.”
Gently taking one of his hands she led him into the wood paneled room and to a chair by the fire. He sat with great care, like an old man fearing his brittle bones would shatter if he applied too much pressure. Leaning forward he stared onto the fire. The way he was staring at the sputtering flames drew her eye to them too but if there were answers to be found in the hearth, she failed to see them.
Instead, her answer found her when she glanced around the room, her eyes landing on the bottle of cabernet she’d opened. “Can I get you something to drink, Dominic?”
He nodded, never taking his eyes from the fire.
Almost before the words had left her lips she began questioning the wisdom of giving him more to alcohol. He reeked of it and his body swayed like he was teetering on the edge of falling out of the chair. It was a wonder that he’d made it to her house in one piece and she refused to send him back out in his current condition. He would be spending the night. That being the case it made no difference how drunk he was, or had yet to become. “There’s a bottle of wine on the table. Would you like some?”
He looked at her again, his black expression unchanged, eyes still lifeless, and shook his head.
“Well, there is also a fully stocked bar. Name your poison.” He shrugged and turned back to the fire. Feeling like she was talking to herself she said, “Okay then, I shall pick. Consider yourself warned.”
Claudia marched out of the library and into the media room, heading straight for the bar. After a moment of thought she made two drinks, a scotch on the rocks of him and water for herself. Someone had to remain sober. Glasses in hand, she returned to the library to find Dominic standing by the fire with his hands outstretched.
“You know, if you want to get out of those wet clothes I’ll help you.” Now didn’t that sound inviting? When will you ever learn to think before you speak? Embarrassingly aware of how he took her odd little comments she quickly amended, “By finding you something dry. I am fairly certain I can dig up something that will fit you.”
He turned to look at her, his face still expressionless but light played in his eyes. Blushing, she handed him the water mumbling, “Here.”
He took it, sniffed it and asked, “What’s this?” His voice sounded scratchy and choked, like he’d abused it with lots of yelling and screaming.
She started to tell him it was scotch but realized she’d given him the wrong glass. Wondering if there could be humor in her mistake she pointed to the glass dwarfed in his hand and declared his drink to be, “Water.”
“Think I got enough of that already. “ He replied plucking at his wet shirt. Gesturing toward the rocks glass in her hand he asked, “What’s that?”
Smiling her best innocent little girl smile she replied, “This? Oh, this is 18 year old Glenlivet. But you don’t look like much of a scotch drinker to me.”
His countenance darkened and he cocked his head. Setting the water glass on the mantle he started toward the door.
“Dom, wait. I was teasing.” She reached out and grabbed his arm. “I hate scotch. I am perfectly happy with my wine…and my water.” She held out the rocks glass like a peace offering wondering why her joke had angered him.
He took the scotch from her and drank down the entire thing in two huge swallows. Exhaling slowly, he put the glass on the mantel and said, “I’ll take you up on the clothes if the offer still stands. I’m freezing.”
“Okay. Follow me.” She said and bolted out of the library only stopping when she hit the stairs to give him time to catch up. His pace was slow and his steps were careful as he might fall at any moment. She debated putting an arm around him to steady him but chose not to. He would ask for help if he wanted it. Moving up the stairs she felt his eyes on her, knew he was staring at her ass. Try though she might she couldn’t keep from enjoying the attention and it was a fight not to add extra sway to her step. Just friends remember? He has a girlfriend. Another corner of her brain corrected, he had a girlfriend.
~~~~~
Mia was dizzy. Her head felt fuzzy and her vision was blurred. She had to get off the dance floor. Stumbling through the crush of party goers she found a wall and leaned against it thankful for its support. She had never been more drunk in her life.
Trevor arrived next to her and put a steadying hand on her shoulder. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Thirsty, though.” and hot and tired and ready to go home, she thought.
He planted an almost chaste kiss on her cheek and spoke into her ear, “I’ll go get you something, don’t move okay?”
Mia was fairly certain that even if she wished to go somewhere, her legs wouldn’t take her. She was standing on Gumbie legs, the support of the wall the only thing between standing and falling.
He returned with a glass and handed it to her saying, “This should help.”
Assuming the clear liquid was water she took a huge swallow and nearly choked on the burn of Vodka. Sputtering and angry she shoved the cup into his chest and said, “This isn’t water.”
“Didn’t know that’s what you wanted. Sorry about that.” She studied his face as he spoke and warning bells began to go off in her head.
As he walked away, she remembered the moment in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes were Marilyn and Jane tricked a man with vodka so they could get into his pants. They’d been looking for incriminating film, Trevor seemed to be looking for something else. She wasn’t ready for that.
When he returned with another glass, she sipped carefully, thankful that it was just water. She drank it all and then asked, “Will you take me home?”
“You want to go already? The night’s still young, Mia.” The smile on his face was confident, controlled.
“Please take me home,” Mia begged, suddenly missing Dom’s rapid fire interrogation and intimidation. She no longer felt safe and there was no fear of big meaty fists in Trevor’s eyes.
Leaning against the wall beside her he said, “In a little bit. I don’t want to abandon my guests just yet.” He put a hand on her arm, it was a comforting gesture, but its effect was to send a tremor of fear through her. She nearly fell in her effort to back away from him. He caught her fall, hands too close to her breasts, and offered, “You want to lie down in my room for a bit while I clear out this place? Then I’ll take you home. Okay?”
Mia let her hand drift down her leg to the pocket of her cargos. She could feel her phone through the fabric. Thank God “I guess so. I am really tired, Trevor. I just want to go home, the sooner the better. I don’t feel so good either.”
He led her up the stairs and she followed, each step feeling like one step closer to something terrible. He pushed open a door and she hung back, not wanting to go in, desperate for someone to rescue her. No one did. He pulled her over the threshold and closed the door closed behind him. “No one will bother you up here, Mia.”
No one but you, right? He leaned in to kiss her. Searching for a way out, she said, “Can I use your restroom? I think I’m going to throw up. Too much jungle juice.”
Disappointment written all over his face, he nodded and led her to another door. Once inside with the door locked behind her, Mia pulled out her phone.
~~~~~
Last ~ Next ~ Back to Fiction Page