Chapter 14
Chapter
Fourteen
ROISIN
I ’ve barely had a chance to come to terms with my new self-revelation before everything changes again.
When Dominic returns with breakfast the next morning, he’s oddly withdrawn, like he’s pulled some kind of barrier into place between us, and he’s no longer the sexy, attentive lover I’ve come to know over the past few days.
I’m contemplating how to best ask what’s wrong when he puts me out of my misery and tells me himself. “You’re going home today,” he says, shortly.
I drop my fork and it clatters onto my plate as I jolt and whip my head up to look at him.
I should be glad, but all I can think is how Dominic is being ripped away from me.
“I…” No words come. What is there to say anyway?
Dominic is all business, his tone verging on cold. “Get dressed and get your things together. You have time for a shower. “
“Dominic?” His name trembles on my lips in an almost inaudible whisper.
He shakes his head. “I have to leave. Mika will be back to escort you.”
Then he’s at the door, about to leave me without so much as a goodbye, even after everything we’ve shared.
“Dominic!” Climbing off the bed, I call out to him, my voice is stronger this time, and he pauses in the doorway, turning to look at me, his expression conflicted.
Two strides, and he’s by my side, pulling me against him, his lips searing mine in a burning kiss that turns unexpectedly gentle before he presses his forehead against mine. “I’ll try to arrange it so I can accompany you to the rendezvous, but I can’t promise.”
Then he’s gone, and all I can do is wait.
I stand there, frozen, staring at the closed door where Dominic just disappeared. My mind races, trying to process everything that just happened. Going home? Today? After a week of captivity, the possibility of Stockholm Syndrome, and a sexual awakening, I'm suddenly being thrust back into the real world.
My legs feel weak, and I sink down onto the edge of the bed. I should be ecstatic about finally being freed, but all I can think about is Dominic. His abrupt change in demeanor, the coldness in his voice, and the way he so easily pulled away, putting a world of distance between us.
Then, the conflicted look in his eyes before that searing final kiss.
I wonder which is true, but even that is pointless. There’s nothing left for the two of us. No future. No happy ever after.
I doubt he even wants that. After all, I’m just a captive who propositioned him, like countless other women undoubtedly have. He’s had his fun. Now, it’s time to move on. I just wish it was that easy for me. When I asked Dominic to honor my freedom to choose a consensual sexual encounter, I never imagined I’d end up feeling like this.
I hear voices in the hallway, and for a brief moment, hope sparks that Dominic is coming back to me, but I recognize Tina’s voice and try to stuff down the disappointment as I force myself to move. With trembling hands, I gather my few belongings and stuff them into the bag I arrived with. Everything feels surreal, like I'm moving through a dream. Or maybe waking up from one. The hot water of the shower does little to clear my head or calm my nerves.
As I dress in the clothes I arrived in, which have been freshly laundered, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look different somehow — my eyes seem older, wiser perhaps. Or just sadder. I barely recognize the woman staring back at me.
Time passes in a haze as I wait, perched on the edge of the bed, my small bag clutched in my lap. I keep replaying Dominic's words, his kisses, searching for some hidden meaning or promise. But there's nothing there except the cold reality that this short, but very significant chapter of my life is ending.
The door opens and Mika enters, his usual stoic expression in place on a face that’s too fine-boned to be called handsome, though I’d never dare call him pretty within earshot. "It's time," he says simply.
I nod, not trusting my voice, and follow him out into the hallway. As we walk, I try to memorize every detail — the texture of the walls, the pattern of the carpet, the play of light through the windows. The smells, the sounds, anything to hold onto Dominic for just a little longer.
We descend in an elevator and emerge into an underground parking garage. A sleek black car waits, the engine idling. My heart leaps when I see a tall figure standing beside it, but it's not Dominic — just another nameless guard.
A horrible thought occurs to me as my freedom awaits. “Did my brothers negotiate this?”
“No, Vito instigated a swap.”
I suck in a breath. Of course, my life for Maricela’s. My blood runs cold; everything I’ve come to know about Vito, the Viper, Rossi sitting like a ball of lead in my gut.
“He’ll kill her,” I murmur, horrified at the thought of her being returned to this place, but Mika shows absolutely no sign of hearing me. But I can’t let it go. I’d stay with Dominic if it meant keeping Maricela safe… Janey Mack, I’d likely stay with him anyway. But poor Maricela….
“Please,” I whisper urgently, needing Mika to listen. “She’s been through so much horror at Vito’s hands. My brothers treated her better than her so-called fiancé. Please don’t let him hurt her.”
Mika says nothing, just opens the rear door and gestures for me to get in. But I turn to look at him again, my expression pleading. Then, before I slide onto the leather seat, he places a blindfold over my eyes and leans in. His voice is no more than a hushed breath of sound when he says, “I’ll do what I can.”
It’s the best I can hope for.
Out loud, Mika says, “Standard procedure," his tone neutral. "For your safety and ours."
I nod as he helps me into the vehicle, swallowing hard against the lump in my throat. The car starts moving, and I lean back, trying to steady my breathing. The darkness behind the blindfold is disorienting, and my mind races when I realize Mika didn’t get into the car with me. Instead, a hard hand lands high on my thigh, sending dread coursing through me, and an oily voice rasps in my ear. “What a pity I never got to finish what I started.”
I whimper, pathetically, at the sound of the Viper’s voice. Surely they haven’t left me alone with him?
Then there’s the sound of a throat being cleared and someone else moves in on the other side of me. He doesn’t touch me, but his presence thankfully has the Viper pulling away. Everything inside me eases, the fear and tension diminishing, because although I may not be able to see, I’d know Dominic’s scent, his presence, anywhere.
The journey seems to last forever. I lose all sense of direction as we drive, surprised at the distance, because I always assumed I’d been detained at the LCN compound in Little Italy, lower Manhattan, just a stone’s throw away from ár n-áit in Hell’s Kitchen. The distance we drive suggests otherwise. I guess that’s why I’ve been blindfolded.
Without any other discourse, my mind races with questions. Where are they taking me? How far away is home? Will I ever see Dominic again? Will Maricela be okay? What does all this mean for the future of our two organizations?
There are no answers forthcoming.
Eventually, the car slows and comes to a stop. I hear muffled voices outside, then my door opens, and a hand reaches in to help me out of the vehicle.
Despite my brain attempting to take everything in, the thing I’m most conscious of is something small and flat being pressed into my palm. Paper if I’m not mistaken. Instinctively, I close my hand around it protectively, as my mind races.
Then I don’t have any more time to think, because the blindfold is removed, and the glare of the sun temporarily blinds me, causing me to wince and close my eyes until I’ve acclimatized.
After that, it’s all business. Dominic takes my arm, his fingers warm, but impersonal on my bicep. We’re in a deserted lot, with no familiar landmarks to hint at where we might be.
I recognize the armored van my brothers often use, but even its welcome, familiar sight doesn’t ease the tension that hangs thick in the air like a living, breathing entity.
All around us are Cosa Nostra soldiers, and even if my brother's vehicle is packed full — which I doubt is the case — they’d still outnumber us five to one. And the firepower they’re toting looks like they’re going into battle.
Janey feckin’ Mack, I can only pray to the mother of God we’ll get out of here alive, because the odds do not look good right now.
A quiver of fear, for myself, for my family, shudders through me, and Dominic must feel it, because his thumb, on the underside of my arm, brushes soothingly against my skin. It’s not much, but it calms me enough to stop me from disintegrating into a blubbering mess. No one needs that kind of distraction right now, and any unexpected move is likely to cause an incident, so I lock my knees and stoically put one foot in front of the other in what feels like the longest walk of my life.
From the opposite side of the lot, my brother, Ciaran, climbs from the van, helping Maricela out, while Callum remains inside. Both scrutinize me, undoubtedly searching for injuries and probably ready to do battle, laying down their lives in the process, if they find anything amiss.
I know then that my sass has to make an appearance. I don’t want to contemplate the consequences if they suspect anything is amiss. Especially not with the kind of odds they’re currently facing. It feels too much like an ambush.
“Well, you took your sweet time,” I tell Ciaran when he’s close enough to hear me, forcing a hint of belligerence into my voice. “I was beginning to think you didn’t want me back.”
“Feck!” Ciaran growls under his breath. “Can you not behave yourself for two minutes? I bet they couldn’t wait to get rid of you.”
He murmurs something to Maricela, who looks sadly resigned. The knowledge of what she’s returning to spears me in the chest, and I can’t hide the torment in my eyes when I look at her.
I send up a silent prayer. Please, God, let her be okay.
Then there’s no more time to think.
The exchange is made, me for Maricela, and the last exchange I have with Dominic is no more than an inconspicuous squeeze of my arm before he hands me over and takes Maricela in my place.
Ciaran wastes no time pulling me to him and hustling me into the back of the van none too ceremoniously, but I understand his concern.
Callum pulls me in and engulfs me in a bear hug, and I feel tears begin to prick my eyes, but I force them back, not wanting to freak my brothers out. Any breakdown can wait until we’re out of danger, and I have some privacy to fall apart.
Ciaran pulls the door closed behind us, and immediately the vehicle jerks forward, the wheels spinning and spitting gravel as our driver, Liam, puts his foot down to get us out of here.
I take one last look at Dominic, but that was a mistake. I turn just in time to see the Viper wrench Maricela out of his grasp, knocking her to her knees, then dragging her across the ground. I can’t help the whimper that is ripped from my throat because I know exactly what’s in store for her. The thought is unbearable.
Across from me, Ciaran tenses and growls under his breath as he watches the same scene. For a moment, I think he’s going to do something stupid, but Callum puts a hand out to stop him. “Ciaran, don’t be a martyr,” he warns his twin, but I’ve honestly never seen Ciaran so conflicted. It makes me wonder exactly what’s been going on between him and Maricela.
My heart hurts for him because that’s a relationship just as doomed as any I might hope to consider with Dominic. More so, in fact, since she’s trapped in a hopeless engagement to the Viper.
He’s quiet on the drive home, but Callum makes up for it, grilling me about whether or not I’ve been mistreated.
I give them as much of the truth as I dare, explaining how Mika removed me from the Viper’s custody and ensured my safety. My brothers aren’t stupid, though.
“That’s implying you wouldn’t have been safe if he’d left you there,” Callum states, his eyes boring into me like he’s trying to see inside my soul and dig out the truth for himself.
“Mika was very upfront in that he wanted to avoid a war,” I say, trying to appease him.
“So it might have been a possibility, then, if things were left in the Viper’s hands?” Callum doesn’t let up. He’s like a dog with a bone, and right now he’s digging. “What does that mean exactly, Roisin? Were you in danger?”
I turn on him with my best scowl. “What sort of question is that, Cal? I was abducted by a rival organization, not sent to a holiday camp!”
It’s not the right thing to say. Callum narrows his eyes at me. “Did they hurt you?” he demands, and I can’t look him in the eye and give him a barefaced lie, so I glance away and immediately he pounces on my reaction.
“Feckin’ Jaysus. So help me god, Roisin, you better tell me what they did to you, or I’ll strip you off myself so I can check for injuries.” His voice rises with every word.
“You’ll do no such thing,” I shout back. “I’ve had enough manhandling without you doing more of the same.”
“Aha!” he crows. “I knew it. I’ll tear those bastards apart if they laid so much as a finger on you.”
“Stop it!” Ciaran’s voice, strident and harsh, cuts through the tension that’s been rising inside the vehicle. “We’ll have Roisin checked out by Doctor Margaret as soon as we get home. Then we’ll sit down and discuss this like reasonable human beings once everyone has calmed down.”
He turns to me and places his warm hand on my knee. “We just need to know you’re alright, deirfiúr, ” he tells me, using the Irish word for sister like an endearment. “And we need to know what to expect after everything that’s happened.”
I suck in a breath and blow it out again as I slump back into my seat because I always knew it would come to this, even if the only thing I want to do is hide in my room, have a good cry, and eat my weight in cookie dough ice-cream.