CHAPTER 15
The alarm clock wakes me up on time, as always. It’s another Saturday, and for some reason, I’m dreading it again. Dominick wants to spend more time with those men. I can’t allow that to happen.
I get out of bed and slowly drag myself to the bathroom. The face that stares back at me from the mirror is still drowsy. I notice big black circles around my eyes. I press my fingers against them, as if that motion itself would deflate them, but that, of course, doesn’t happen. I sigh, not really knowing what else to do, and grab my toothbrush.
Today, I have an agenda. A very important agenda, at that. When Adrian comes to pick up Dominick, I plan on driving there myself to talk to Mason. It’s not to clarify what Wagner told me a few days ago. I’d like to say I don’t care about that, but it’s not true. What is true, however, is the fact that I need him to know that I’m not OK with Dominick spending more time with them, after this stupid wall painting job is done. And, I need to be firm. Put my foot down.
I spit angrily into the sink, then watch as the water dissolves the little foam bubbles and takes them away down the drain. Clean. That’s what I’ve always wanted to be, and yet, it seems I constantly need to deal with dirty things. Dirty people. I’m tired of that.
I sigh deeply again, and put on my bathrobe. I tiptoe down to the kitchen, and make some pancakes. I myself don’t feel all that hungry, but I read somewhere that you tend to get angry more easily if you haven’t had breakfast. Seeing I’ll be having an important conversation a bit later, I didn’t want to do anything that’d make me prone to angry outbursts.
About 15 minutes later, I hear Dominick walking down the stairs. He enters the kitchen, his hair all disheveled and with that I don’t care look on his face.
“Morning,” I chirp, placing a plate of pancakes before him. “Did you brush your teeth?”
“Um, yeah.” He’s sleepy, but still manages to roll his eyes at me effectively.
“Come on, smart ass,” I laugh it away. “Adrian should be picking you up soon.”
Dominick picks up a spoon and reaches for the maple syrup. I slide it over to him. There is no thank you, but I’m too lost in having an imaginary conversation with Mason. So, I don’t pay attention to it this time and let it go.
“So, how do you like it over at the bikers?” I ask, sitting across from him.
Even now, after all this time, I wonder how I made this sweet child. How did something so beautiful and so perfect come out of a relationship that was so horrible? I try not to remind myself of that, but it’s almost impossible. Still, I need to do it, for Dominick.
“It’s awesome,” he tells me, stuffing his mouth with pancakes.
“You think you’ll be finished soon?”
“About that,” he starts, taking a napkin and wiping the corner of his mouth.
He has full lips and a small nose. Mine is longer, more pointy, and my lips are thinner. Every time he smiles, he reminds me of the man I once loved. I know that, in time, this memory will fade. Only this young man before me will remain, and I will no longer connect the two of them in my mind. But, it’s still too fresh.
My sweet boy smiles at me, those full lips open up and reveal a set of small teeth, with tiny little gaps between them.
“Mason says he has more work for me, if I want to stay on, during weekends.”
I frown at the idea. However, I don’t reveal that I know of this already.
“They’d pay me, of course,” he adds quickly, as if that’s the most important thing.
“Don’t you think it’ll be too much of a burden?” I wonder aloud. “With school work and all.”
“I need to keep my grades up,” he explains. “That’s their condition.”
“I see,” I turn away from him, putting the plates in the sink, and I can’t help but frown again.
“So, can I stay there?” he asks me, and I hear the hope in his voice.
This is a double edged sword right here. If I let him hang out with criminals, I risk turning him into one. And, that’s the last thing I want. But, if I refuse him this, I risk him hating me for as long as he remembers this, and it might be a helluva long time.
I release a heavy sigh, not knowing what else to do.
“We’ll sit down and talk about this,” I try to wiggle my way out of this one, but I know he won’t have it.
I already see the big fight that will ensue, but luckily, the sound of bike tires interrupts us. Dominick jumps up without a single word, and rushes upstairs to get dressed. I walk over to the front door and open it without even hearing anyone knock.
Adrian is already there, and I see him standing with his fist in the air, about to knock.
“Good morning,” I smile.
“Odds are it will be good,” he replies, as he tries to smile.
“The sky looks nice and sunny,” I look up.
“It might rain later. If you go somewhere, take an umbrella.”
“I will, thanks.”
I look at him, as I wait for Dominick to come running back. His cheeks look a little burned, like he spent too much time in the sun the previous days. He notices me looking at him, and he looks a little nervous. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. I would invite him in, but Dominick should come down any second.
“Will Mason be… at your place?” I ask, not really sure if they call that place home or not.
It looks like a home, but it also looks like it’d fit only a few people. From what I’ve seen and heard, there’s about a dozen of them in the gang.
“He is not there now, but I believe he will be back in an hour.”
“That’s great,” I nod. “I need to talk to him.”
Adrian gives me a puzzled look.
“Can I help?” he asks, and suddenly, I’m washed over with a sudden desire to wrap my arms around him and give him a big kiss on the cheek.
“I just need him to clarify a few things,” I explain. “But, thanks.”
At that moment, Dominick comes rushing out, and almost pushes me out of the way.
“Hey!” I shout at him, but I’m not angry. He tries to leave. “You won’t even give your mom a hug?”
He frowns a little, but turns to do as he’s told. I hug him back, inhaling the smell of my still sleepy child, as I let it go out into the world.
“Stay safe!” I shout after both of them, as they leave my porch, and Adrian’s bike disappears down the street.
The moment I’m about to close the door, I hear the sound of the bike again. I turn around, figuring that Dominick probably forgot something. But, it’s not Adrian. It’s not Dominick.
I look at the towering figure, as he gets off his bike. His Ray Ban’s flicker in the sun. His leather jacket ripples sun waves, like the tide. The sound of his boots on the gravel as he walks over to the house fills up the air around me. I stand there, waiting. My heart in my throat.
“Good morning,” he tells me, with a wicked gleam in his eyes, taking off his sunglasses.
“What… are you doing here?” I ask. “Adrian just took Dominick.”
“I know,” he replies. “I came to take you out for some breakfast.”
“Breakfast?” I repeat, taken aback by his offer.
Is it possible that he somehow knew I’d be coming over? Impossible.
“I know you work the afternoon shift, and I figured you’d want to try coffee and eggs somewhere other than the only diner in town,” he grins.
“That’s nice, but…” I look around, trying to come up with a plausible excuse as to why it’s not a good idea to go anywhere with him. But, nothing comes to mind.
“But, you don’t want to sit on a bike with a drug dealer, right?” he asks, and for a moment or two, I can’t figure out if he’s pissed or not. The smile on his face finally tells me he’s not.
“Um, you talked to Wagner, right?” I huff.
“Of course.”
“Look, it’s not - “
“I’m here so we can straighten a few things out,” he interrupts me.
I’m shocked that we had the same idea, at the same time. He came here to my doorstep on the same day and almost the same time that I wanted to go to his doorstep. How strange.
“I suggest we go somewhere, but if you’ll feel safer staying here at your place, I’m game.”
I’m not sure which I dislike better, riding on a bike with him or having him here, alone?
He is waiting for me to reply. He’s not in a rush. Patient and calm, he is still smiling.
“I can make us some coffee,” I turn to the side, gesturing at him to come in.
He takes the hint, and walks inside, closing the door behind him. I lead the way to the kitchen, listening to the sound of his footsteps behind me. His presence fills me with a strange mixture of emotions. Adrian makes me calm. The way he handles himself assures me that there are no bad thoughts inside of his head. Wagner is different. He can’t seem to stand still in one place, like his feet are constantly itching to do something. Even that ridiculous comment about jokes didn’t put me off of him. But, Mason… he’s something else. I guess that’s why he’s their leader. It’s so easy to follow him. So easy to do whatever he says. It’s because you admire him, you want his approval. At the same time, you also fear him. You fear that you might disappoint him.
We walk into the kitchen together, and he takes a seat at the table. There is still a plate of unfinished pancakes left, and two empty glasses of orange juice.
“Nice breakfast?” he asks.
“Would you like some pancakes?” I answer with a question.
“No, just coffee is fine.”
I turn around to put the coffee on. I don’t need to look at him to know that his eyes are glued onto me. I thought that I’d practiced this enough. But, I feel all that courage dissipating, leaving me a frightened little girl in front of what seems to be a big bad wolf.
The coffee is done quickly, and I pour a cup for both of us. I place his before him.
“Thanks,” he smiles.
I sit opposite him, trying to keep a safe distance. I’m not afraid he’ll hurt me. I’m sure he won’t. I’m sure none of them will. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have sent Dominick back. But, I feel like he’s overstepping his boundaries. He needs to know where his place is. And, it’s away from us.
“So, where do you want to start?” he wonders, taking a sip.
I’ve practiced this already. Probably a hundred times. I know my lines. I know exactly what I want to say to him. And yet, not a single word comes out of my mouth as I gaze at him sitting in my kitchen. He has taken off his jacket. He’s wearing a black t-shirt, which hangs tight on his chiseled body. His neck is thick, as he moves I see his veins straining. His hands are big. For a moment, I wonder what it’s like to have them wrapped around you. But, I quickly remove that image from my mind.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for Dominick to continue going over to your place,” I say calmly, remembering my lines.
“Did he say something?” he wondered politely.
“No,” I shake my head. “He hasn’t said anything. He likes it there.”
“So, what’s the problem? Maybe you’d feel better if you saw it as community work.”
“Community work?”
“Yeah, you know. He spray painted our wall. He was made to fix it, and wants to keep on helping. So, we focus this extra energy he’s got on something productive, instead of letting him wander the streets, trying to figure out what to do with himself.”
I have to give it to him. What he’s saying is making an awful lot of sense. I’m just not willing to admit it. So, I just nod.
“But, I think that’s the not the issue here,” he continues. “The issue is your problem with us. With me, my guys.”
I look down. I didn’t think it’d be this hard to have this conversation. It was all so easy in my mind. I glance over at him, and I see no threat in his eyes, no intimidation. I’m still not used to that. He is sitting across from me, towering over my table like a mountain. And yet, I’m not scared. I don’t want to run away and hide in a mouse hole. I stay here, my eyes glued to his.
He talks like a man should talk. His voice is firm, but kind. He is asking questions and waiting for an answer, instead of providing one himself, and I’m just supposed to agree. He wants to know what I think, how I feel about things. I sense he knows Dominick is the most important person in my life, and for some reason, he wants to be there for us. Otherwise, why would he be here? Why would he do any of the things he’s been doing?
“I…” I start, but it’s difficult to continue.
“Danica…” he leans over the table, his hands pressed against mine. “What are you afraid of?”
The shadow of my past hangs over us, and it hangs low. So low I can almost touch it. It can almost taint the life I’ve started to build for myself and my son here. I can’t let that happen. I have to make it go away, and I’m starting to realize that I can’t do it on my own.
“I’m afraid something will happen to Dominick while he’s with you,” I whisper, biting my lower lip.
Saying it out loud makes it even more frightening, and I need to suffocate a gasp.
“Because we’re drug dealers?” he asks, softly.
His hands are still on mine. They are warm, slightly calloused. The hands of a real man. The hands he would only put on a woman in a way that would make her tremble with love and passion, not tremble with fear.
“Yes,” I whisper again.
He smiles, releasing a sigh. I don’t understand. Why is all this so amusing to him? A part of me feels a little insulted, but I don’t show it. I don’t pull my hands away from his. His touch feels too good.
“I will share a secret with you,” he tells me.
My heart starts to race, pounding loudly inside of me. Do I even want to know this secret? What will it do to me? Don’t I have enough secrets of my own? But, I say nothing. I wait, patiently, my heart drumming to the sound of his breathing.
“Your kid’s grown on me,” he says. “I think he’s grown on us all. He’s the reason I will tell you what not many people know.” He pauses, allowing me to nod. “We aren’t drug dealers. We aren’t guns dealers either.”
He says it so gravely that it’s hard to doubt anything he says. I wait a moment or two, allowing this newfound truth to sink in. Slowly, I pull my hands back. I feel like this is the worst moment to do this, but I don’t want him to think I’m falling for him. Despite the fact that I very well may be, but I still don’t want him to think that he can charm me into believing something that’s not true.
I rest my hands in my lap, not taking my eyes off of him. His square jaw seems darker now, the little hairs have grown into a bush now. His lips are still visible, now pressing tightly against each other. Is he nervous? Does he feel vulnerable opening up before me? I can’t read a single thing about him. I guess he’s had enough practice hiding his true face from the world. I wish I had, too.
“People assumed it, and we just let them believe it,” he continues. “It’s easier to control them. If you want to maintain control, just use fear. It never fails.”
I swallow heavily, feeling my throat getting parched. But, I have no desire for that coffee in front of me. I want to hear more. I need to hear more.
“What we really do is trade in ancient artefacts.”
His confession hits me like a ton of bricks. That’s the last thing I ever expected him to tell me.
“Ancient artefacts?” I repeat, trying to persuade myself that I actually did hear it right the first time.
“Yes,” he nods, leaning back in his chair. He takes a deep breath, and I see his chiseled chest rise in the tight t-shirt he’s wearing. “We get our hands on it, and we sell it on the Dark Web to the highest bidder. Now, sometimes, rarely, but still happens sometimes, we send some of these artefacts to museums and galleries across the world, free of charge and without the package being traced in any way. It soothes the conscience a little, I guess.”
He leans forward again and takes a sip of his coffee. A little bit of foam remains on the tip of his upper lip, and he licks it off a moment later.
“Now, as for how we come across it,” he says, scratching the back of his head, “it’s different. Sometimes we find it, just lying around. You know, no one is watching it, and in that case, I take it, it’s finders keepers. Sometimes, we buy it, and make a little profit in the sales. Sometimes, we steal it. But, it’s usually some millionaire asshole who won’t even notice it’s gone.”
“Robin Hood, huh?” This is the first thing that pops to mind and I can’t refrain from sharing it.
Hearing me say it, he chuckles a little.
“Something like that, yeah.”
“So, let me get this straight,” I shake my head. “You actually want people around here to think you’re drug dealers and you kill people if they even look at you the wrong way?”
“Like I said, it’s easier to keep things under control,” he nods, shrugging his shoulders.
“Then, you really didn’t kill Sam Michaels,” I say, not really sure if I’m just thinking out loud here.
“I told you.”
“But, you could be lying about all this,” I suddenly add.
That worm of suspicion won’t let me be. I was taught, the hard way, not to trust a man. Any man. Especially a man who acts like he cares about me. Those are the most dangerous ones. The ones to be careful with.
“You mean like you’re lying to everyone about your husband dying?”
When I hear him say that, I feel like lightning struck right in the middle of my kitchen, leaving me deaf, mute and blind. All my senses perk up, urging me to run away, to pick up Dominick and just drive away, anywhere, until we run out of gas, and then just keep walking until we can’t walk anymore. But, I don’t do any of that.
I remain seated at the table, with a man who obviously knows everything about me. Fear creeps up on me, its cold hand hugging the back of my neck. It takes all my strength not to scream, not to run away. I think of Dominick. He’s counting on me to be strong, for both of us.
“How do you know about that?” I manage to whimper.
“I told you, no one moves to Swallow Springs without me giving the OK,” he reminds me.
“Did he send you?” I ask the question I’ve been dreading all along.
I stare deep into his eyes. Blue and unfathomable, I can’t tell if they will be my salvation or my burial.
“No, Danica,” he finally replies. “I have no connections with such scum.”
I feel like a huge burden was just lifted off my back, as if I’d been holding up the sky and finally, someone took over.
“I came here to tell you there is nothing to fear,” he continues, his voice dripping like honey into my ears, filling me with joy I haven’t felt in a long time. “You and your boy are safe. No one will harm you, I can promise you that.”
He gets up and walks around the kitchen table. He offers me his hands. I take them. I’m afraid to stand, because I doubt my knees will endure the weight of my body. I feel too weak. My knees have turned to jelly.
But, I stand up. He puts my hands on his chest. He feels rock hard, like his body was chiseled from a mountain and formed into this gorgeous man I see before me. His hands find my waist. The burning sensation of his touch makes me even dizzier.
“We will keep you safe,” he whispers, his lips so close to mine I can taste the coffee he just had. “I will keep you safe.”
With those words, he kisses me softly, his lips a perfect fit against mine. He smells like the forest, like motor oil and black rubber, and it’s a smell I never want to get off of me. I want to enshroud myself in it, bathe in it so that it becomes one with my breath.
I don’t know how long we remain like that, our lips pressed together. I expect tongue, but there is none. His fingers dig into the sides of my body, pressing me harder against him. His chest is pressed against my breasts. I can barely breathe, but I feel like I don’t need to breathe, as long as he’s here, as long as his arms are around me.
When he lets go, I have the sensation of walking on clouds. The place where his fingers were are now devoid of his touch, and I feel emptiness. His hands belong on my body. I know that now. And all this time, I’ve been trying to fight this feeling, but the more I fought it, the stronger it became. It grew, and grew, until it filled all four chambers of my heart. Now, I can’t escape it any longer. I can’t pretend the feeling isn’t there. It’s easier just to give in, to finally believe that when a man says he’ll keep me safe, he will really do it.
“Adrian will bring back Dominick later today,” he smiles at me.
I believe him. I believe everything he says. My mind is asleep, dazed by the enormous amount of happiness I feel right now. My heart is full. It’s fuller than it’s ever been. For the first time in ages, I finally feel like maybe, just maybe I found my new home. The place I can start growing some roots. The place Dominick will see as home, too.
We both need it. We’ve been through so much. Too much. Sometimes, the amount of pain I see in his eyes scares me. I just want to hide him away from the world. I want to keep him inside the house and never let him go out. But, I can’t do that.
He needs to lead a normal life. We both need it. We both deserve it. Maybe Mason can help us obtain that.
“Thanks,” I tell him, feeling my cheeks blush just a little.
He walks out of my house slowly. He doesn’t turn around, but he knows I’m right behind him. I wave as he sits on his bike and drives away. When I close the door, my heart is still beating crazily, with no intention of stopping. And, that’s OK. We’re safe here. Nothing can hurt us.