22. Dario
CHAPTER 22
Dario
I have a boyfriend.
I thought I had a boyfriend before, but that wasn’t real. Isn’t it ironic that the guy I thought I was in love with turned out to be a fraud all along, and the man I began fake dating ended up being the real deal?
Life’s funny like that sometimes, I guess.
There have been several times during the past week where I’ve found myself lost in thought, marveling at how infinitesimally small the chances of Lochlan and I meeting really were. Now I can’t imagine my life without him.
It’s probably all the daydreaming that caused me to leave my flash drive at home. Plus the fact that I’m spending so much time at Lochlan’s now. I might have the bigger house, but he has more furniture, so it’s kind of up for debate who has the better place.
Anywhere he’s at is where I want to be, so I don’t really care.
But I do care about my damn flash drive. My colleagues poke fun at me for not trusting the cloud to save important stuff, but clouds can be hacked. I like to ensure anything of real importance is only on a removable device with a physical firewall. Usually, I am extremely obsessive about where the drive is at all times.
Well, to be fair, I know exactly where it is. I left it in the USB port of my home computer after I took some work home with me to make up getting… ahem… distracted by Lochlan over the past week. I’ve never had better sex in my whole life, so I can’t be too mad at myself.
Especially when I can easily nip home in my lunch break and have the added bonus of taking Queenie out for a quick walk. My manager doesn’t need to review the project I’ve been pouring my time into until tomorrow, after all.
“Hey, girl!” I call out as I step inside the house. “It’s just Daddy. Have you been a good doggy?”
I hear a scrabbling of paws on tiles before I see Queenie come bulldozing toward me, her wonky tooth poking out from under her lip as usual and drool flying everywhere. I laugh and crouch down to greet her as she snorts and slobbers all over my hands in excitement. I told her I’d be back tonight rather than at lunch, and I genuinely think she understands the difference.
After washing my hands, I head to my spare room and, sure enough, there’s the drive exactly where I left it last night. Still, I’m flooded with relief as I rush to pull it out and put its cap back on so I can slip it in my pocket. Perhaps I should at least ensure some version of important work is saved elsewhere. I could probably protect it on my work desktop reasonably well even if I’m not using the cloud. I wouldn’t mean to, but what if this drive dropped out of my pocket or got smashed? I wouldn’t just be losing a lot of my hard work. I’d be putting the company at risk and letting my colleagues down.
Still, it’s so hard for me to let go of all my old very valid fears of allowing myself to be vulnerable online. I remember what my therapist says, though, and try to be kind to myself in this moment. Right now, I have the drive and nothing regrettable has happened. I can think about alternative storage strategies another time.
A nice walk will clear my head. We’ll only have about half an hour before I need to head back into work, but both Queenie and I will enjoy some fresh air in the park. I’ll bring one of her frisbees to make sure she gets extra milage in as well.
I’m just going to grab her leash from the wall in the entrance hall when my doorbell rings. As we’re heading out that way anyhow, I don’t really think about who it could be. Lochlan is off today, but he knows I’m in the office as we spoke about it last night. Chances are it’s another online delivery, so I just open the door.
Shane is standing on the other side.
I’m so shocked that I simply freeze, my brain grinding to a halt. I grip the door handle so tightly, it might be the only thing that’s keeping me standing. My ears feel like they’re full of drones, and my heart is beating so hard I think it might actually explode like the Death Star.
“Baby,” Shane utters with an emotional sigh. “I’ve missed you so much.”
Before I can register what’s happening, he steps over the threshold and wraps his arms around me. I can’t seem to move, like I’m frozen in carbonite. But he hums as he presses our temples together and inhales deeply.
“You smell different.”
I smell different because I have Lochlan, Queenie and Rocky in my personal space all the time now. I smell different because I have a new home where I feel safe…or at least I did until about ten seconds ago. I smell different because I no longer wear aftershave I hate, but have to put on because he bought it for me, and if I don’t spritz on enough to make myself feel sick, that means I don’t love him.
Like he ever loved me.
That anger unlocks my tongue at least.
“Y-you shouldn’t be here,” I manage to stammer.
It seems like he ignores me as he lets me go and looks around my home, no doubt already judging it for not being to his taste. Also, the slightly tacky Christmas decorations I picked up from the store to celebrate my first independent Christmas. I have no doubt that even though I left him, he’s going to berate me for not still decorating in a style he’d approve of, whatever time of the year.
However, that’s the moment Queenie comes trotting out from the kitchen, no doubt wondering why we still haven’t left for our walk. She stops dead in her tracks when she sees Shane, a low growl emanating from her throat before she lets out a couple of loud ‘WOOFS.’
“What the fuck?” Shane cries, jerking away from her with a look of revulsion on his face. Then he laughs and shakes himself like it never happened. “That’s the ugliest dog I’ve ever seen.”
My anger from before triples, spurring my feet to finally come back to life and do something. Even though I’m shaking from head to toe, I unglue myself from the entrance hall, leaving the door open as I march to plant myself between my precious baby and the insidious man who has forced his way into my lovely new home.
He won’t be staying long.
“You shouldn’t be here, Shane,” I say more forcefully. “I have a restraining order against you. Get out.” He doesn’t need to know that the order doesn’t technically cover this house.
“Yeah, that your mommy organized for you,” he says in disgust. “Hon, I can’t believe you let them twist you up like this. That you let them break us up! I’ve missed you so much. You broke my heart sneaking out like that. After all the time we spent together, how could you betray me like that? I’ve been losing my mind not knowing if you were even alive or dead.”
Old, familiar guilt swirls in my chest. Queenie is still barking her head off, making it hard to think. I’m also worried about her bolting out of the front if she spies a bird in the bath. I don’t want to close the door because I need Shane to understand that he’s not welcome and needs to get the hell out right now. But I have to protect my girl first.
I huff and loop my fingers around her collar, walking her out back so she can wait in the garden. When I close the door and turn around, Shane has followed me into the kitchen. I know it’s irrational, but I suddenly feel trapped. He’s coming farther into the house rather than leaving.
“Aren’t you going to apologize?” he asks.
Despite my fear, a laugh bursts out of me. “Apologize for escaping from you?”
His face drops and he looks so unbelievably hurt I almost doubt myself. It’s interesting to see him now, like I’m looking at him through completely new eyes. I always thought he was so handsome, but there’s a sharpness to his features that’s clear to me now. A narrowness of his eyes and a meanness to his mouth.
He’s the ugly one. Not Queenie.
“Escape? Miguel, how can you be so cruel?”
I wince at hearing my old name. I might have had it my whole life before I left him, but that person doesn’t exist anymore.
He set that sweet boy’s life on fire and almost burned him to the ground.
Dario is who rose from the ashes, stronger than ever before.
I don’t feel strong, though, as Shane sinks into one of my new thrift store dining chairs. He shakes his head, resting his elbows on the matching table, and covers his mouth with one of his hands. Logically, I know it’s all an act. But there’s another part of my mind that reminds me he probably believes his own bullshit. He’ll have himself convinced that I really am the one who hurt and betrayed him. That he’s the victim here.
I swallow and try to hold onto my conviction. “You need to leave,” I say again, but my voice shakes a little in spite of my best efforts. “We’re not together anymore, Shane.”
“And who’s fault is THAT?” Shane explodes, rocketing to his feet and sending the chair flying backward onto the floor with a clatter.
There’s the real Shane. It took no time at all for him to emerge, did it?
I flinch away from him, the urge to throw up washing through me for a moment before it passes. Queenie is barking nonstop outside, and my heart pangs for her distress. I made a promise to her that this home would be her sanctuary. That she’d never have to be afraid again.
Shane can’t be allowed to ruin that. Not for her. And not for me.
But he’s not done shouting.
“I did everything for you, Miguel, but it was never enough! I took care of you, provided for you, managed everything so you wouldn’t have to worry. I loved you. I still do! But your poisonous family somehow managed to convince you that me being a good boyfriend was controlling. That I was dangerous.” He scoffs, like nothing could be further from the truth.
All he does is remind me of just how dangerous he could be.
“You hit me,” I snarl, my fists clenching.
He looks horrified. “I made a mistake—one little mistake—and you still can’t bring yourself to forgive me? After everything we’ve been through?”
It’s my turn to be horrified, but I’m certain my emotions are a thousand times more valid than his scripted performance.
“You think backhanding me was a little mistake? I could have had you charged with assault. Instead, I left. Why can’t you accept that?”
He laughs hollowly. “I knew you’d be like this. In case you’ve forgotten, I would never have gotten that angry if you hadn’t pushed me like you always do. Like you’re doing right now! You push and push and then you wonder why I snapped.”
“Then why are you even here if I’m so awful?” I yell at him.
His face softens. “Because you need me, Miguel. We were so good together. No one will ever love you like I do. I never stopped looking for you. Don’t you want to know how I found you?”
I sneer, bile rising in my throat. I swallow it down, determined not to fall apart in front of him. “You found the photo I stupidly didn’t get taken down from Instagram.”
I curse myself. After all our excitement, I never even brought it up with Lochlan in the end. Things seemed so perfect. I didn’t want to invite my past back in to hurt us any further.
Looks like it hunted me down anyway.
“I’m sure you researched the dog class,” I continue, “then came sniffing around Redwood Bay until you could follow me home.”
“You make it sound evil,” Shane says with a wince. “I never stopped searching for you, Miguel. Hoping one day I could get you back in my arms again.”
He bends down to pick up the chair, like he never came into my home like a bull in a china shop. But then he stands up and steps toward me, and something snaps.
“Stay back!” I bark loud enough to rival Queenie. Thankfully, Shane does pause. “You are in violation of your restraining order. You can’t be within a hundred feet of me.”
“Miguel, that’s ridiculous?—”
“Stop saying my name!” I scream, feeling like I’m about to blow. “You don’t own me! I’m not yours! You are breaking the law, and you need to get out before I call 9-1-1.”
“You invited me in!” Shane splutters.
“I absolutely did not,” I counter.
A dark smirk tugs at his mouth. There he is again. The real Shane.
“What cop is going to believe you over me?” he asks.
For a second, my heart sinks. Time and space away from him has given me a new perspective of just how skilled a manipulator he is. What if officers come and he convinces them that we’re simply having a disagreement, and I’ve become irrational and hysterical as usual?
But then it’s like a lightbulb goes off in my head. The police will believe me over him, because I have proof.
As I was going to be at work all day, I switched the security system on before I left this morning. It’s still on. The cameras are motion activated. I can go into the app and turn them on whenever I want, provided that the system is running. But otherwise, they won’t record unless Queenie moves into view and sets them off.
Or I do.
They’ll be recording right now.
A kind of calmness washes through me, and I take a nice deep breath as I fold my arms across my chest. “It’s over, Shane. Don’t come back here again. Don’t try and contact me. We weren’t good together, we were toxic. Take my advice and find yourself a good therapist. Someone who will help you love yourself more, so you don’t feel the need to bully someone else into loving you.”
He looks aghast, and this time I don’t think it’s an act. “You’ve been blabbing to a fucking shrink about me? What have you told them?”
I sigh, feeling a tiny bit sorry for this messed-up man, but not anywhere close enough to forgive him. Of course he’d be more worried what some stranger he’s never met thinks about him than acknowledging his ex-boyfriend is telling him to his face that he was abusive.
The fact is, though, that Shane might not be able to help his screwed-up ways. But that doesn’t negate the fact that he traumatized me and physically assaulted me.
“My therapy sessions are about me, Shane,” I tell him firmly. “No one else. They’re about my life and how I want to live it.”
“You always were selfish,” he says scornfully. “Everything always was about you.”
I almost ask, which is it? Does he want me to be talking about him in my session or not?
Then I realize that I wholeheartedly do not care.
“You need to leave now, or I really am going to call the cops,” I say tiredly.
He moves so fast, I don’t have time to react. In only a couple of strides, he’s on me, seizing my elbow and giving me a shake. “You don’t get to threaten me!” he snarls. Queenie is fully howling outside now. I can’t help but whimper, terror racing through me.
Is he going to hit me again? Worse?
If I scream, will anyone hear me?
I’ve never felt so alone and afraid in my entire life.
Except in that moment, another sound joins the cacophony. Amid the howling, whimpering and heavy breathing, I heard a tiny…yet determined…growl.
Shane and I both jerk our heads to look down at the same time to see Rocky with his teeth sunk into the bottom of Shane’s jeans. I don’t have time to process how this can be happening before Shane viciously tries to kick the Dalmatian puppy away.
“DON’T YOU HURT HIM!” I roar, twisting out of his grip and shoving him with everything I have. He staggers back in shock as Rocky lets go and hops away. He’s not cowering, so I don’t think he got hit. But he certainly starts howling, joining in with Queenie’s song outside.
I scoop him into my arms, quieting him as he starts to lick my face. My frantic mind wonders if Queenie was loud enough to summon him all the way from Lochlan’s house. But that’s ridiculous.
Except that’s the moment when Lochlan comes running into the kitchen, out of breath, and I wonder if Queenie’s voice maybe is that powerful.
My heart erupts with relief. “Lochlan?” I cry. I hug Rocky tighter and realize that Queenie has stopped making a racket outside. Does she know that her other daddy is here now?
“Dario, are you all right?” Lochlan asks, stepping closer to me.
“Who the fuck is Dario?” Shane snaps, apparently recovered enough from mine and Rocky’s counterattack against him. “Who the fuck are you?”
Lochlan folds his muscular arms, his T-shirt clinging to him like a second skin and leaving nothing to the imagination. Shane might be bigger than me, but that’s not hard. Lochlan, however, towers over him.
“No need to ask who you are, asshole,” Lochlan says with an arched eyebrow. “You’re the douchebag who could only make himself feel like a man by wailing on his boyfriend. You need to get the fuck out of my town now, and don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out.” He tilts his head. “Or maybe do. I don’t care.”
Shane’s expression has turned furious, and I’m ashamed that I can’t stop myself from shrinking away just a little. “Oh,” Shane says, wagging his finger like he’s just about to get one over on Lochlan. “You’re the guy from the photo! You and the mangy mutts.” He looks between me and Lochlan, his eyes widening. “Who the hell do you think you are, homewrecker?”
“I told you, Shane, it’s over!” I yell, feeling my backbone strengthen the longer Lochlan stands in front of me. “This is my home and the only one wrecking it is you!”
Shane sobs, and even my heartstrings twitch. It’s all an act, I remind myself.
He’s on a roll, though. “I’ve been worrying myself sick over where you are and if you were okay, Miguel. Only to find out that you’ve been cheating on me?”
Instinctively, I glance at Lochlan, immediately worried that he’s going to believe Shane over me. But of course Lochlan’s too smart for that. He just laughs and comes to wrap his arm around me as Rocky squirms in my arms, trying to lick both of us at the same time.
“Your lies won’t work here, buddy,” Lochlan says calmly. I press myself to his side, feeling as tall as the redwoods in this town. “You’re not fooling anyone. You’re just embarrassing yourself. Why don’t you head on out now, while you still have some dignity?”
A muscle twitches in Shane’s jaw, but he blinks and suddenly his eyes are wet, and his shoulders slumped in defeat. “Oh, Miguel. You’ve been brainwashed by this… oaf. I’ll come back when you’re alone so we can talk sensibly. Perhaps I should call the police and report a kidnapping.”
“I’d like to see you try!” I cry, but Lochlan squeezes my shoulder and shakes his head.
“Let him go, baby. This pathetic little man isn’t worth one more minute of your time. Trust me, he is never, ever coming back here again.”
“Is that so?” Shane demands, spinning around and storming off to the front of the house. I break away from Lochlan and follow, wanting to make sure he really does finally leave my home. “Miguel is with me,” Shane continues to rant, “and I will visit him anytime I fucking well please. Who’s going to stop me? You?” He scoffs. “And what army?”
“You’re right,” Lochlan says calmly as I hurry after Shane to the door. “I don’t have an army.”
Shane steps outside and stops so suddenly that I practically run into him.
“I have a family,” Lochlan says from behind us.
My jaw drops.
Out on the street, the entire One-Thirteen is parked right on my doorstep. The engine, the truck, and the ambulance, all just sitting there with their lights flashing blue and red all over my front yard.
Lochlan isn’t on shift, so neither are the guys I know. Yet there they all are, leaning on the rigs or hanging off them in their civies. Other uniformed firefighters are mingled in the vehicles, and I assume that’s the watch working right now. But then Sawyer sticks his head out of the engine’s window with a shit-eating grin bright enough to power a warp core.
The horn blares so loudly, Rocky jumps out of my arms and goes running back to Lochlan.
“TOOT TOOT, MOTHERFUCKER!” Sawyer yells, giving me a wink.
My eyes sweep over the scene as Shane just gapes and Lochlan comes to rest his hand on my shoulder, Rocky sitting at our feet.
Sawyer’s best friend, Anton, has a little girl on his shoulders who waves enthusiastically at us with a Barbie doll in her hand. Anton is glaring at Sawyer, presumably for dropping an F-bomb in front of his eight-year-old. But then he looks our way and salutes Lochlan and me.
Teddy is filming everything.
Del is standing close enough that I one hundred percent know that he’s poised to leap into action should Lochlan need his help.
His paramedic partner, Yara, is walking around offering everyone cupcakes from a big Tupperware box that have got to be homemade.
Gene is holding hands with a woman who offers me the biggest, warmest smile as she cradles their baby on her hip and their other four kids brandish plastic light sabers at Shane.
Lieutenant Rico is watching the entire situation like a hawk.
Lili cracks her knuckles so loudly I can hear it from over here.
There’s even a very fabulous-looking elderly lady who, despite the fact that it’s the middle of a Tuesday afternoon, is dressed in a long, mauve cocktail gown and is dripping in diamonds. She holds a leash attached to an immaculately groomed shih tzu who’s sitting at her feet, wagging their tail happily.
“Oh, what fun!” she announces to no one in particular.
A car door slams, yanking my attention to a white brunette woman striding away from a gleaming BMW toward my house. Captain Julian Valentine falls perfectly into step beside her. She looks to be in her early forties, sporting a nicely cut black suit and heeled boots that I automatically know she’s not wearing because some man told her to, but because she enjoys men thinking she could step on their necks at any moment with them.
“Can anyone tell me what in the name of our lord and savior Ms. Chappell Roan is happening here?” she calls out, her voice not overly loud but clear as a bell.
“I-I have no fucking clue!” Shane calls back, indignation radiating from his vibrating body. “I came to visit my beloved boyfriend after a painful, enforced period of separation. Then this barbarian comes thundering into the house, chasing me outside, where I found all these delinquents. Who the hell are you?”
The brunette smiles, like a kindergarten teacher might indulge a toddler having a tantrum. She casually swipes the corner of her blazer aside, revealing a police badge that glimmers in the bright California sunshine.
“Captain Lucy Padilla,” she says cheerfully as she walks up my garden path. “My new bestie Julian here told me there were reports of a domestic abuser breaking into this residence and terrorizing his former boyfriend. Would that be you, sir?”
Shane splutters like a pot about to boil over. “That’s insane!”
“Actually,” Lochlan pipes up. I glance over and see his huge grin. “There are doggy cams all over the house that have been recording the whole thing.” He looks down at me and softens. “When the motion cameras activated, I checked in thinking I’d just see Queenie getting some lunch. When I saw some strange asshole making you upset, I knew exactly who it had to be. I promise, I wasn’t snooping on you.”
My heart melts all the way down to my toes. “I know you wouldn’t. Thank you. My hero.”
Shane is still fuming and spitting feathers. “You can’t film me without my permission!”
“You did barge into my house and refuse to leave,” I point out.
“Okay, mister,” Captain Padilla says, a hint of amusement in her words as she reaches out to place her hand on Shane’s back. “How about we discuss this further down at the station?”
“Are you arresting me?” he demands, jerking away from her touch.
She blinks once, her smile not faltering. “No. I’m asking you to come chat with me. If you don’t want to do that, though, then I can arrest you.”
Casually, she pulls her cuffs out of her back pocket. It’s subtle, but I can feel Rico and Del edge just a fraction closer to us.
And then Shane snaps his head down to look at his foot.
Probably because Rocky has chosen that moment to cock his leg and pee all over Shane’s shoe.
“Oh my fucking god!” he shrieks, jumping away like he’s been scolded.
Lochlan drops his head back and laughs. “Good boy, Rocky,” is all he says to his dog when he looks back down. But then he directs his attention back at Shane. “There goes that dignity, huh?”
Shane looks like his brain is giving him the ‘404 file not found’ screen. As if he’s sleepwalking, Captain Padilla starts steering him away from my house toward her car.
“That’s what you get for messing with the One-Thirteen!” Lili crows as Shane walks past. Then suddenly all of the team are shouting and clapping and jeering.
“You come for one of us, you come for us ALL!” Sawyer yells, blasting the engine horn again.
“You belong in jail!” Yara shrieks before rushing over and insisting Padilla take a couple of cupcakes.
Anton’s daughter waves from atop his shoulders. “Bye bye, grumpy man! Choose kindness next time!”
I don’t even know when I start crying. I just know that at some point between all the applause and Shane being driven off in Padilla’s car, I start sobbing against Lochlan’s chest, not sure when I’m going to be able to stop.
“Oh, baby!” Lochlan cries in alarm, hugging me tightly. “It’s okay. He’s gone now.”
“I know it’s okay,” I manage to tell him back between sniffles.
I don’t care one bit about Shane. He really is gone, and I know in my bones that he’s never coming back.
I’m crying because this morning I woke up with the knowledge that I now have a boyfriend.
What I didn’t fully realize is said boyfriend comes with a whole found family ready to go into battle for his boyfriend, who they barely even know. But as I look around at them through tear drenched lashes, I know that they mean it, and I love them for it.
I love Lochlan even more.
Now I just need to work up the guts to tell him that.