Chapter Eleven
? Dominic ?
I want blood.
I want torn bodies at my feet.
Never in my life have I been so consumed by blood-thirsty hunger to watch the slow torture and death of another person. But the way Isla is clinging to me, tiny frame shuddering with everything she had to endure alone, I want heads.
Starting with Macie.
In all the years I’ve known this bitch, I overlooked her underhanded comments, her sly remarks.
I convinced myself Nick would say something.
She’s his stepmom. I thought Isla would say something.
But actually witnessing her truly demonic presence, I realize it’s so much worse than I expected.
Watching her gouge her metaphorical talons into Isla and tear out her heart was an experience I will not let her live again.
“I got you,” I tell her softly over and over again. “Let it out.”
My top is soaked. The heat of her pain bleeds through to burn my skin, but I don’t care.
It seems too long and not long enough when she finally lifts her face. It’s blotchy and wet. Her lashes are damp spikes around an ocean of agony that hollows me out.
I say nothing when twisting the hem of my top around a fist and lifting it to gently wipe her cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” she croaks.
My thumb sweeps over her lips. “I don’t want to hear that. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
Her chin quivers and my heart shatters as her eyes fill.
“I’m such a fucking mess.” She draws in a deep, shaky breath that exhales with a weak sob and fresh tears. “I can’t do… anything.”
The little catch in her chest breaks me.
I capture her chin. I start to tell her she’s wrong. That she’s the most perfect woman alive, but a third voice beats me to it.
“Get your things.”
Both Isla and I turn to the man standing rigid and angry behind me.
“Nick,” I say, the warning in my voice unmistakable.
His gray eyes meet mine, hot with impatience. “You want Macie to see her like this?”
That seems to be enough for Isla. She pulls out of my arms and rubs hurriedly at her cheeks. Her small hands shake as she smooths down her top and brushes her hair off her face.
“I’m okay,” she whispers. “I just need the washroom.”
Neither of us stop her when she sprints up the stairs.
Then it’s just me and my boyfriend and a million unspoken questions.
“What is wrong with you?” I demand. “What did you say to her?”
To his credit, Nick doesn’t shy away from my disappointment. “Nothing that isn’t true.”
I wait for him to elaborate, but he’s fixated on the landing at the top, brows a knitted crease between his eyes.
To an outsider, the hard set of his jaw, the rigid posture of his shoulders mirrors his every day expression, but I’ve known this man since our diaper days. I know him better than I know myself, and I know he’s furious. He’s caught in a battle, a difficult dilemma I’m useless to help with.
“Getting the bags,” is the only response I get when he turns and heads back in the direction of the kitchen.
I know I’m not done with him. He can avoid me now, but that won’t be the case once we’re alone in the middle of nowhere.
Right now, my only concern is Isla.
Keeping her safe.
Keeping her together.
Keeping her the fuck away from her mother.
I’m not so sure I’ll be very nice to Macie if she tries to pull that shit with her again. I know I’ve seen hints of her bullshit, never enough to warrant a full scale war, but this visit... something has definitely changed. Has twisted in Macie’s head where she has grown bolder.
Maybe it’s the knowledge that no one will contest her. Maybe it’s that she has isolated Isla so completely that she feels comfortable in her cruelty. Or maybe she’s just a sketchy bitch and no one’s thought to challenge her.... yet.
Well, the joke is on her.
I’m not about to let her anywhere near my baby. Not again. Ever. I may not be allowed to have her, but I’m not about to let anyone hurt her.
Not even Nick.
The soft creak of stairs has my attention moving to where the object of my eternal temptation descends. She’s clad in her jeans and thick, purple and black coat. A duffle hangs at her side.
Closer, I notice the damp strands at her temples from washing her face, the fresh coat of makeup to conceal evidence of her crying. But her beautiful eyes are still red and the downward tilt of her pouty mouth has my stomach in knots.
“Come here, baby,” I murmur against my better judgement.
I move to the bottom of the final step just as she reaches it. Even on a tier higher, I still tower over her. Not by much, but I have to bend my head when I kiss the tip of her nose.
My fingers take the bag from her and set it at my feet gingerly, freeing us both up for the arms I circle around her middle. She doesn’t resist. Her need for this crashes through me and I tighten my hold.
“I got you, sweetheart,” I tell her softly, tucking the promise into the curve of her neck.
Her arms circle my shoulders and she’s pressed flat against my chest.
I have to squeeze my eyes shut with how much I need this.
How badly I’ve ached for years to have her in my arms for no other reason than to simply hold her.
I have dreamed of her between us in bed, curled up safe and warm.
Of waking up to her, making dinner with her, sitting on the sofa with her in our lap.
I have wanted this woman with an obsessive need I know Nick shares.
I know he longs for her as badly as I do.
“He didn’t mean it,” I murmur into the sweet scent of her jasmine body wash. “Nick... he’s just scared.”
She shakes her head. “He’s right.” Reluctantly, she tugs back an inch to peer into my face. “I’m not reliable. I make a mess of everything. You’ll regret—”
I cut her off with a sweep of my thumb over her lips.
“I know none of that’s true.”
But I can’t tell her we would make sure she never has a reason to run again. I can’t explain that I would fight my whole life to protect her. Those lead up to confessions I’m no longer permitted to make.
The best I can do is bump my nose to hers.
“I’m going to fix this,” I say instead, ignoring every voice in my head telling me to shut up. “Going to—”
Macie takes that moment to hurry in, a steel thermos in hand.
She interrupts my near idiotic promise to keep her daughter no matter what.
Her big eyes blink at the sight of us, but I don’t pull away.
I ignore Isla trying to dislodge herself.
It’s a tenuous moment I know could bite me in the ass, but I tighten the arm hooked around Isla’s waist. My free hand reaches for the drink.
Macie has the expression of someone who swallowed a bug. Her horror and confusion play a game of tug-o-war behind her tight smile.
“Where’s Nicky?” she stresses through her teeth.
I don’t miss the hidden undertones of her displeasure.
“Getting our bags into the car,” I answer smoothly.
Her gaze shifts to Isla and I don’t miss the churning of gears in the way she’s studying her daughter, analyzing the picture before her.
“Isla, actually, why don’t you stay—”
“Get in the car,” I cut her off.
My hand is in my pocket, digging out the keys to Jacob’s truck he’d practically pitched at my head this morning.
I stuff them into Isla’s palm. I go even further by twisting the front door open and forcibly nudging her out onto the porch.
To add to my smug satisfaction at pissing Macie off, I shut the door behind her.
Then it’s just me and the only woman on earth I have ever wanted to put my hands on.
“Isla is coming with us. I think it’s best for all involved.”
“I was under the impression that you were with Nicky.”
I grit my jaw at the nickname.
“Are,” I correct.
She gives a brittle chuckle. “I see.” She clasps her fingers together. “I didn’t realize he would appreciate you putting your hands on his sister.”
“Step,” I remind her.
She blinks once, slow and meditative. “I think after thirteen years, we can agree—”
“I don’t.” I straighten my shoulders and peer down the length of my nose at her. “Maybe you can, but I live in reality. So, I will not be doing that.”
I’m being rude, but I don’t give a fuck. There isn’t a force on earth that can make me forget the way Isla sobbed in my arms, and I will live with that sound haunting me until the day I die. I will also hate the person responsible until their last breath.
But I’m done being in the same space as her. I’m done biting my cheek to keep from unleashing the all-holy hell lodged in my chest. I reach for Isla’s duffle with one hand and the doorknob with the other.
“Your sympathies are wasted.”
I freeze mid twist and face the bitch.
“What?”
Fuck being polite.
Long, thin arms circle around the thermos, clasping it to her chest.
“This is what she does. She makes you feel badly for her when she’s the one at fault.
” Her expression morphs into one of self-deprecation.
“I know it’s my fault. I coddled her too much after her father left us.
Being a single mom to a hormonal teenage girl is exhausting, but I did my best. Ultimately, she became addicted to attention.
She’s never happy no matter how hard I try. ”
I don’t know how stupid she thinks I am, but apparently very, because she continues in her melancholy drawl.
“Her father doesn’t help when he calls and starts all of this nonsense.
Isla has learned from a young age how to pit us against each other.
Honestly, some days, I can’t help but wonder if she’s not the reason our marriage didn’t work.
It’s why I’m so hard on her now. I’m finally happy with Walker and I can’t let her come between us.
Boundaries. I learned that the hard way, unfortunately. ”
A tense sort of silence extends between us where she stares at me expectantly, and I stare back with a raised eyebrow.
Seriously, what does she expect me to do?
Tell her she’s right. That a child was the reason her marriage didn’t work?
If anything, this revelation has made me question Walker’s mental capacity.
This is the woman he chose, which is fine.
I’m not here to judge anyone. But the more she talks, the less I want a damn thing to do with her.
“I’m going to go now,” I mumble, pulling the door open to the crisp morning.
Macie blinks, all traces of her sulk vanishing into bewilderment.
I leave her like that and step out onto the porch. My boots crunch on the thin layer of snow that has fallen overnight. I already regret my choices leaving without a coat, but stubborn pride has me marching to the truck and the small, pale face watching me from the backseat.
There’s fear in her eyes. A devastating mix of acceptance and defeat. It’s the eyes of someone who wishes one thing but knows it won’t happen in their favor. I can’t help wondering if she thinks Macie convinced me to leave her behind.
Fat fucking chance.
But so many people have already failed her, submitted and fallen for Macie’s bullshit. I can’t blame her for thinking I would follow suit.
Instead, I give her a smirk and move to the other side of the truck. I yank open the passenger’s door and set her bag down on the seat before moving to slip behind the wheel.
She’s stuffed the key into the ignition but kept the engine off so the cabin is an icebox.
“Jesus, sweetheart, it’s freezing in here. Why didn’t you put the heat on?”
I turn the engine over and crank up the knobs. It’s going to take a few minutes to actually warm anything up, but…
“I didn’t want to waste gas.” She murmurs quietly. “Should I go back?”
I scoff. “You’re not going anywhere.” I yank the belt across my chest, snap it into place before twisting at the waist to peer back at her fully with a forearm on the middle console. “Unless you want to?”
Her soft, warm gold eyes shift from me to the house with the white paint and picket fence. Her bottom lip curls up between her teeth with contemplation and she gives a slight shake of her head.
I give a firm nod and face forward. “Good.”
Nick takes that moment to stalk out from around the side of the house.
I watch his big hand reach over the side of the gate and flip the latch.
The wooden door swings and he’s moving in the direction of the driveway with two duffle bags bumping against the side of his leg and my coat bunched under his arm.
I watch in the rearview mirror as he circles the back to add our bags to the bench next to Isla. The entire frame rattles with the slamming of the door before he’s in the passenger’s seat.
He says nothing when shoving my coat at me and yanking his belt over his lap. The hook latches into place with a loud snap that sounds oddly final in the silence.
With everyone where they should be, I turn the key and pull us away from that shit hole. I stare at the round face glowering after us from the living room window. Resist the urge to flip her off.