CHAPTER 4
DOMINIC
It feels like the day is bearing down on me. Really, it’s really the weight of the last few months. I might be trained to handle stressful and dangerous situations, but that doesn’t mean this life doesn’t take its toll on me. On all of us, really.
Somehow, my brothers seem to be more capable of handling it all. Maybe they’re just better at hiding the way everything we do, and the life we lead, weighs on them.
We’ve been in Seattle for months now and I have no idea when we’ll be leaving. I know it won’t be until the rumblings in the city, and the threat of Mikhail Morozov is taken care of. Mikhail just won’t fucking disappear and let go of power he’s never had. Maybe he would have had it if he had taken over for his father.
But he never got that chance. Anatoly Morozov was taken out by the Volkov bratva who immediately filled the power vacuum created. It was their plan all along and I was more than happy about it.
Morozov was a fucking waste of air. He deserved to be taken out after he ruined so many lives. He never loved the city he tried to rule; he only ever cared for himself.
From everything we’ve learned since arriving in Seattle, Mikhail isn’t any better than his father was. Mikhail gaining any power in the city would be a disaster.
I have no doubt that he would immediately start back up the human trafficking business we started taking down ten years ago.
There’s not a day that goes by when I don’t think about those that we freed from the warehouse where they were being kept ten years ago. That mission changed the trajectory of our lives and gave us a purpose, one we had been searching for since we left the military.
After leaving the DSMC clubhouse, the restlessness I’ve been trying to ignore for days now feels like my skin is stretched too tight. Normally I would go to gym in the house we’ve rented for the duration of our stay to work out or spar with one of my brothers, but I know that won’t work today.
Wolfe eyes me as he walks into the living room area as I pace throughout the open concept living, kitchen, and dining rooms. It’s clear from the way he looks at me that he knows I’m about to lose my shit. Normally, he would smirk at me and try to crack a joke, but the frown on his face tells me he’s going the empathetic route today.
He sighs as he slumps down on the couch. “What’s going on with you?”
“I don’t know,” I throw back at him while I continue my pacing. I sound surly as fuck, but I don’t have it in me to care.
“Maybe you’re just on edge because you feel like something is about to happen with this whole Volkov situation. We’ve been here for a while now and normally we’re on the go,” Wolfe tries to reason with a casual shrug of one shoulder like it’s no big deal.
“Maybe,” I grunt in agreement, even though I know it’s not true.
No. This is something else entirely. It does feel like something is coming and that it’ll bring change, but I don’t think it has anything to do with the job and Volkov. It’s something else entirely.
“You need to blow off some steam,” Hendrix intones as he closes the front door of the townhouse. “Maybe head downstairs? I’ll spar with you,” he starts to unbutton the cuffs of his shirt with a feral grin on his face.
“I thought about that, but I don’t think it’ll help. Not this time.” I clench and unclench my hands as I face the only brothers I’ve ever known.
My mom was a single mom who worked damn hard to give me the best she could. We never had a lot of money, and I hated how hard she worked from the moment I understood why she did it, but I never doubted how much she loves me.
She’s the reason I joined the military when it felt like everyone else at school was looking at college. I needed to find a way to help support my mom while giving me a path toward a future. The military gave me that and much more.
When I was serving, most of my money went to Mom. She more than earned it with how hard she worked to get me from birth to 18. She was able to stop working both jobs and slow the fuck down. If that was my only achievement while enlisted, it would be more than enough.
Now that I’ve gone into business with Wolfe and Hendrix, Mom lives more than comfortably. She’s become a woman of leisure, but that doesn’t stop her from being on the go as much as she can. She volunteers and keeps her mind occupied with all sorts of hobbies, ones she never had the chance to do while I was growing up.
The woman might be busy, but she still finds the time to pester me about grandchildren and how much she wants to be able to spend her golden years—her term, not mine—running around after some kiddos.
“You need something else,” Hendrix arches an eyebrow with his words, the challenge clear.
“Don’t know,” I mumble and resume my pacing.
I don’t have to look at the man to know that he nods his head decisively as he offers, “We should go to out. It’s been a while for all of us.” I glance over at Hendrix to find him arching an eyebrow as if I would deny the truth in his words. I can’t so I won’t. “It might be the distraction you need,” he offers. He tacks on the mumbled words, “And you’re not the only one.”
Wolfe jumps up and claps his hands together as if everything is decided now. “You must be talking about yourself because I’m more than fine.” He waves his hand in my direction and points out, “I’m not pacing around like a caged animal.”
Hendrix shoots Wolfe a glare but doesn’t say anything else. Now that I look at one of my best friends, I can see the tension in his shoulders and in the clench of his jaw. He’s just as stressed as I am, he’s just better at hiding it.
“Oh,” Hendrix draws the word out and I can practically see the light bulb going on over his head, “you were talking about yourself.”
The self-satisfied smile on Wolfe’s face has me rethinking the option to spar. It probably would do both of us good for me to get a few shots in at his head. It might knock something loose for him and it would temper my restlessness. At least for a little while.
“Go out where?” I find myself asking the question even though I’m not entirely sure I’m up to go out.
I’m not exactly the one in our group that enjoys being around people. I find that they expect too much from me; far more than I’m willing to give for sure. The worst is when they want me to talk to them. I’m perfectly fine enjoying the quiet and doing it by myself.
Even when I’m with the men I consider my brothers, I’m more than happy to have them do most of the talking for me. That doesn’t mean I’m some pushover or unwilling to express my thoughts or opinion, but you better believe it matters when I do. I see no reason to waste my time, energy, or breath otherwise.
“You can’t be thinking of someplace like Second Circle,” Wolfe throws out knowing damn well we’ll never set foot inside of Amato’s club. Okay, club is a stretch. It’s a brothel.
It’s a damn good thing that whenever we’ve looked into it, that it’s not a trafficking front. The women there choose to be there and are very well taken care of. Amato might be taking advantage of the oldest known profession, but he’s not a pimp. I can’t really fault him for creating a business around something that would be happening in the city anyway. At least this way the women are being taken care of, are kept safe and everyone’s health is monitored.
“You know we can’t enter Amato’s business,” Hendrix growls and with a glance at him I can tell just how hard he’s fighting rolling his eyes.
“Then where?” Wolfe’s question is curious, but there’s a bit of censure in his tone that I don’t fully understand.
He doesn’t meet my eyes when I look at him, choosing to stare up at the ceiling instead. It’s odd. He’s not one to try and hide his feelings or reactions, at least not when he doesn’t need to. We’re probably the only people in the world he lets down his guard around, even though part of his guard is being the comic relief amongst us.
“You’re onto something though,” Hendrix muses and I find myself perking up. He studies me closely as his words come out slowly, his words measured, “We can go to Club Sin. It’s neutral territory and we have memberships, even though we’ve never used them.”
“And that’s where Spark, Rites, and Crucify tracked down their woman.” Wolfe’s eyebrows are so high on his head that if he had hair then they would be pretty much at his hairline. He shrugs. “Might do you good,” he eyes me while he throws his two cents out there.
Hendrix doesn’t respond, but it’s clear that he agrees. The need to get moving, and possibly never stop, is almost overwhelming. At this point, I really don’t care where we go.
I’m thankful my brothers aren’t stupid enough to suggest some sort of club with dancing and shit. That would be way too much for me and wouldn’t be anything close to relaxing. Hendrix does bring up a good point too; we’ve had memberships to Club Sin for a while just in case we ever needed to get in. Our business requires us to be able to get into restricted places.
And it’s not like we haven’t found our targets in places like Club Sin before, even though they try to keep it as safe and regulated as possible. People with money can be into some shady shit. It’s not like people who don’t have money can’t be criminals, they absolutely can, but the kind of entitlement I’ve come across when it comes to the rich makes them think they’re untouchable.
I don’t respond to my brothers. Instead, I stride out of the room to take a shower and get dressed. They won’t leave without me. The entire time I’m getting ready, I try to ignore the itchy feeling, but it’s not easy.
It takes far too long for us to walk through the doors of Club Sin, and I’m struck by the clean lines and understated opulence of the place. Everything about it fits into the feel of The Centennial building and Seattle. I had forgotten how nice the lounge is decorated. I’m sure the rooms are even more impressive.
The buzzing under my skin doesn’t go away when I walk into the club, but I didn’t expect it to. Hendrix is a step ahead of us while I flank him along with Wolfe. My eye sweep through the room, something I always do no matter where I am or what I’m doing.
Call it a hazard of the job if you must. I know where the exits are, the layout of the room, and how many people are mingling in the main area of the first floor of Club Sin. Knowing that shit with a glance has kept me alive more times than I want to think about.
Something feels…off, though, here. It’s a strange feeling and one I haven’t experienced before. It’s almost like that feeling you get right before the sky opens up and it starts to rain. It’s an impending feeling and I can’t seem to shake it.
“Maybe I can find a sub,” Hendrix murmurs more to himself than to either of us.
Still, I understand what he’s saying. We’ve been friends for long enough that we know what we’re into. We’ve never shared a woman together, but we haven’t been shy around each other either. We share a few likes when it comes to the bedroom which isn’t too surprising considering our need for control and something more feral.
A woman on the submissive side has worked for each of us in the past, but that’s not the same as someone who likes to be prey to our predator. That’s a slightly different dynamic and one that requires a different understanding.
One day, maybe, we’ll find it.
Honestly, the more I’ve thought about it since Spark, Rites, and Crucify started sharing Navy together, the more I’ve thought about whether that would work for us. It would take a damn special woman to be comfortable between the three of us.
It would have to be someone who isn’t intimidated by us and can trust us implicitly. I’m not sure that woman is out there, but you never know.
“Shit,” Wolfe breathes out, “she’s here.”
My head snaps around to look at him, but his gaze is locked across the room. When I turn my head, I find a woman sitting with her back against the wall, her shoulders pulled back and her head held high. Her hair is light brown with golden highlights and cascades around her in beachy waves.
The best inside of me perks up and takes notice as I look at her. I want to stomp over to her and pull her into my arms before urging her to run, but my feet are locked in place, and I can’t move.
Not because I’m scared or don’t know, without a doubt, that she’s exactly what I’ve been looking for. No, that’s not what has me standing still. It’s the fact that she’s sitting across from a man who is talking with his hands, his face a mask of eager sincerity.
The longer I watch her, the more something niggles at the back of my mind. It’s not just the fact that something isn’t quite right about the scene in front of me, even though that is part of it. She’s clearly annoyed and no longer engaged in the conversation, if she ever was.
But that’s not what is familiar about her. It’s something else.
Hendrix sucks in a sharp breath and takes a small step toward her. Just as he does, like she can feel our eyes on her, she looks our way. The moment her stormy blue-gray eyes meet mine, it feels like I’m hit with a fucking freight train.
I know those eyes.
I haven’t seen those eyes in ten fucking years.
Recognition flashes in her eyes, before they shutter. It would be impressive if I weren’t desperate to know everything she’s thinking. But there’s no reading her now. It makes me want to march over, throw her over my shoulder, and take her back to our house. Never letting her go again crosses my mind, but taking away her choice is something I can’t do to her. Not our little phoenix.
Hendrix growls, “What the fuck?”
“Yeah,” Wolfe holds out the word even as he keeps his voice low, “she found a sense of control and freedom by becoming a traveling dominatrix.”
“You’ve been keeping up with her,” there’s an accusation in Hendrix’s tone, but it doesn’t sound like a question.
“We all want her,” I growl.
“Damn fucking right,” Hendrix snarls.
Well. Shit.
Something about her called to me ten years ago when she was one of the women saved from Morozov traffickers. But she had just endured something no one should have to endure.
I’m not even surprised that Wolfe kept up with her.
“Kirby is ours,” there’s a reverence in Wolfe’s tone that would be shocking if I didn’t know how much of a teddy bear that he is.
Then the reality of his claim slams into me. And I’m not the only one affected. The woman across the room sits up taller like she was able to hear his one feral infused word and can feel the depth of its meaning.
Ours?
My vision sharpens and narrows until she’s the only thing I can see. I know my brothers are still next to me, I can feel them with a clarity that I’ve never experienced before, even with how long we’ve been working side-by-side.
Ours.
The beast in me hopes that she runs.