Chapter 20 #2
The words are out in a growl while lunging forward. The surge of emotions gets the better of him as his full weight bears down on Hollister, equal in height but not in weight. Hollister is broader and shoves me behind him.
Less than a second later, the sickening crack of bone on bone rips a scream from me.
The power of their bodies, an aggressor and his victim, thrust them forward, colliding into me.
I dart out of the way, my hand over my throat, gasping in horror as he lands one more punch before the young men flanking his sides wrestle him back.
Hollister didn't raise his hands once. Didn't make any effort to protect himself.
Absorbed the fury from my son to protect me.
Everyone is shouting, but they are all drowned out by the pounding of my heart in my head and the panting in my lungs.
Panic surges through my body, leaving me trembling at the violent confrontation I should have expected but didn't.
“You're fucking my mother?” Dominic screams across the room. “Is that what this is?”
The guys are struggling to keep him back. The bulkier one overtakes more of my son's chest when he gains a hold to surge toward Hollister, who's turned to stone.
Blood trickles from an abrasion on his eyebrow. The only sign of life in him aside from the rapid rise and fall of his chest. Evident that adrenaline is pumping through him like all of us. Otherwise, he's a marble statue of dignity and grace.
“Don't you fucking talk about her like that,” Hollister delivers his warning, wrapped in steel and ice. Cold and calculated. Opposite of the hot, firestorm of my son. “Have some goddamn respect.”
My hand at my throat drops to my stomach. Trying to calm myself as I step forward.
“It's my fault. Dominic, I didn't want you to find out this way.”
All four sets of eyes land on me. His friends are more inquisitive. Hollister's are the darkest blue, a slight shake of his head. A warning for me not to do it. But my son's are filled with years of hate. A decade of blame, slicing me into a thousand pieces all over again.
“But what, Mother? You just happened to fall on his dick?”
Hollister steps forward, fully intent on handling this.
“Shut your fucking mouth, man.”
“Why don’t you fucking shut it for me?”
Dominic sees it as the challenge it is and lunges at him. Pulling out of the grip of the slender guy and landing a crooked hit to the side of his body. Hollister crumbles at the collision, but still doesn't defend himself.
“Calm down, bro. You're going to get us kicked out.”
The bulky one grabs Dom's loose arm and tucks it behind his back. Like a raging bull, Dominic bucks against him, spewing profanity at both of us.
“Let me go!” Dominic roars. His chest heaves. “He fucked her. He fucked my mother.”
It's horrible and reprehensible.
I freeze.
“Say that shit one more time and I won’t hold back.”
Hollister's voice deepens, with a more pronounced edge to it. It's his last warning. I'm about to step between them when the slender one cuts me a look. He moves between the guys. A hand plants in both chests to keep them apart. The intentional clear. This doesn't go any further.
“Chill, Dom. Massi has to be here. Don't ruin it for him.”
His face contorts. Taking two seconds to sum us all up and reduce us to nothing.
“FUCKING HELL, MOTHER!”
His screaming is the only thing he can do now that he's fully contained by the guy plastered to his back and a muscular, tattooed forearm around his neck.
“You like getting dicked by young cock? Is that it?”
Hollister lunges, shoving his friend aside.
His fists connect with my son's face with such lightning speed that it shocks us all.
Right into his mouth. He smiles, a bloody mess.
Maniacal. As if feeling the physical pain is better than the emotional pain.
He spits blood onto the floor, laughing like a madman.
“Is that all you got, motherfucker? Ha, MOTHER FUCKER. Literally. My mother fucker. Fucking my mother.”
I want to vomit.
My stomach churns from the toxic poison coating his words. It's always been challenging between us, but this is another level. I can't comprehend how horribly he views me. Yet this is an insight into how deep the unresolved pain runs between us.
I've always held out hope that we could eventually be repaired. This seems to have burned down any hope. More charred ashes ground into the scorched soil of our relationship.
“KOKAMI!” The slender one yells, and everyone stops. I don't understand what's happening, but it seems to bring a temporary calm to the chaos. “Not here, guys. Think of Emilio.”
The very person we all forgot about until now. His comment to put their friend at the forefront takes the fight out of everyone. The tension lowers a fraction until Dom is fighting against the hold he's been placed in.
“Get the fuck off me.”
His friend releases him cautiously, ready to grab him again if needed. Dominic straightens his jacket. His chest still heaves with pent-up rage. His eyes dart between Hollister and me. The betrayal is evident in his glare.
Hollister's fingers touch his open cut, pulling away with bloody fingertips that he smears on his shirt. His knuckles are red and raw. Evident that he landed a hit on Dominic.
“I will not hesitate to kick your ass if you disrespect her again,” Hollister mutters, his voice low and dangerous while he flexes his fingers to relieve the stinging pain. “No fucking matter who you are.”
Dominic barks out a bitter laugh.
Cynical and disgusted.
“Right. Because you're just all noble and shit. Banging my mom for what? A little fun? A hot piece of ass?”
His words hit their mark in both of us. I see the flash of pain in Hollister's eyes. It comes from a place of hurt, yet he's intentionally hurting us.
“Watch it,” the bulky friend warns Dominic in a commanding rumble.
The phone. The reason that started this burns in my palm. I move beside Hollister to hand it to him, then face the brutality of my son's rage.
“Dominic,” I start, my voice barely above a whisper. I try to reach out, to connect, but his eyes are cold, distant. He's looking at me like I'm the enemy. “Please, let's just talk about this another time. Now is not—”
“Talk? You want to talk now? You should have thought about that before you spread your legs for him.” He scoffs, a harsh sound that cuts through the air. “How long has this been going on? That fucking art show? Or when you were bawling about my father for the hundredth time.”
His emotions surge. His hands begin to tremble. His friends take notice, closing in on him.
“Ms. Barrett, can you . . . Hollister?”
His slender friend pivots, never finishing what he was going to say. It's as if they move with an understanding that I'm not a part of. It doesn't matter. I hand Hollister his phone. He stares at it for a long second and then plucks it out of my fingers to slip it into his pants pocket.
“You're out of line, Dominic. I get that you're upset, but you don't talk to her like that.”
Dominic's sneer is violent. The cracking of his knuckles is made worse by the tension between them.
“Or what? You'll hit me again? You'll fuck her again? Which is it, Hollister? You going to be her knight in shining armor or the dick she rides? Ever thought she might just be using you? Or are you using her?” His hand raises to his chin, stroking his shadowy beard.
“Does she know about all the women you fuck and toss aside. Is that what you'll do to her?”
Hollister's hands clench at his sides, but he doesn't rise to the bait. Instead, he looks at me, his eyes softening.
“Barbara, why don't you—”
“Barbara?”
He shoves his bulky friend away from him. Absolutely unnecessary and uncalled for. The poor guy frowns, running a hand through his hair and looking more stressed.
“Now that's fucking rich.”
“You think you know everything, don't you?” Hollister's voice is steady, calmer than it should be given the circumstances. “You think you have it all figured out, but you don't know shit about what's been going on.”
“I don't know shit because you're not around, Hollister.”
“I'm not around? Who's the one always blowing me off? I call your ass to drag you out of that lonely place of yours, but all you do is bark at people. Hell, the only person you listen to is Diego, and that's probably because you needed him for your little serial killer adventure.”
My heart must be pounding too loudly in my ears, as I didn't just hear my son running around with a serial killer.
“You're involved with a serial killer, Dominic?”
The words slip from my mouth, harsh and blunt as my son's usual tone. He snorts, glares at me, then at Hollister, and then at the slender guy, who I learned is named Diego.
“You didn't tell your mom, Dom?” Diego's expression changes to astonishment when he acts. His shoulders slump forward, and he fidgets with his boots. His hand moves to his back, grimacing as if in pain. “That's messed up.”
The bulky one hums in agreement.
“Excuse the fuck out of me for having boundaries. You know what? Fuck this. FUCK BOTH OF YOU!”
With all judgment and scrutiny directed at Dominic, he lashes out. Like he always did when he was a child. His words are a slap, stinging and harsh. I take a step back, wrapping my arms around myself, trying to hold together the pieces of my heart that are threatening to shatter.
“I'm out of this fucking place.”
He slams his shoulder into Hollister as he passes him. I'm torn between following my son and staying for Hollister. Either way feels like a choice. A pro for one and a con for the other.
The bulky guy shrugs, looking uncomfortably at Hollister and me.
“I'll make sure he's okay,” he mutters before following Dominic out. The slender one lingers for a moment, his eyes soft with sympathy.
“He just needs time,” he offers quietly, before nodding at Hollister and looking at me.
I stand there, shaking, the adrenaline wearing off and leaving me feeling drained and hollow. Hollister's eyes meet mine, and I see the apology there, the regret for his part in this mess.
“I'll go.”
“Yeah. Probably for the best, Babs.”