16. June #4
Dominic waits for me to continue like the gentleman he is. He’s fierce, he’s brutal, but he absolutely has manners.
“I will quit Jack’s, but I want to stay on at Bram’s. And I won’t look for another job until time is almost up.”
Dominic considers what I’ve said, processing the information carefully.
“Bram treats her well, and I can watch over her there.” Magnus delivers a supporting point I am grateful for.
Dom counters. “One day a week.”
“Five,” I say without hesitation. Always go big and have room to work with.
“Two.”
“Three or no deal.” The actual amount I was hoping for all along.
“Fine,” Dominic concedes.
“And once a week, I’m going out with Cora. Non-negotiable.”
Dom clenches his jaw and his nostrils flare slightly. It’s adorable, really. “I need at least twenty-four-hour notice.”
“This Saturday. How’s that for notice?”
“I will do my best to accommodate your request.”
“Oh, and one final thing.” I make sure to keep my eyes trained on him. “I will swap fluids with whoever I want to in this house, and you will have no objections.”
He runs his tongue along his teeth, sizing up my latest demand.
Coen tenses from his spot like he’s anxiously waiting for Dominic to reply.
“Very well.” Dominic pauses as if there is something else he’d like to add, but he keeps it to himself. He pulls his vibrating phone out of his pocket and peers at the screen.
Coen lets out a sigh and stands from the table, taking his plate with him. He tosses it into the sink and makes his way toward the stairs.
Dominic calls after him. “Hayes. We have work to do, don’t go anywhere.”
Coen stops, his back still to us. His shoulders are tight, his hand making a fist at his side.
A small part of me wants to reach out to him, to take him into my arms the way I had done when we were kids, and hold him to me, telling him everything will be okay.
Younger me had no idea that those words were a lie.
I meant them though, because I truly thought if we were together, nothing else mattered.
We could handle anything that came our way, and we did.
Two broken pieces that were an unbreakable pair.
But things out of our control broke us apart, severing that bond we had shared. Leaving us more damaged than we were to start. It changed us into different versions of ourselves and would ensure that we would never be the same again.
I can’t even look at him without replaying that last memory of him in my head.
Him hanging out of the back window of his father’s pickup as it drove away and out of sight.
I clung to the hope that eventually, Coen would return.
That he would fight for us and prove my belief wrong that everyone leaves.
Instead, days passed, and they turned into weeks, months, years.
The stolen bits of my heart hardened into cold, irreparable darkness in his absence.
I shouldn’t have taken it so personal. We were only kids, drunk on the idea of love.
But the feeling reminded me too much of another loss, one I wished I could rid myself of.
Coen, being in my life did exactly that.
It was a beautiful bandage to the gaping wound on my soul, only to be shattered when he suddenly left.
It taught me a valuable lesson, that you cannot rely on another person for those comforts, because people ultimately will leave, and you’ll be alone to pick up the pieces left behind.
Why give them the chance in the first place?
Coen was the only man I’ve ever loved. That I had ever, truly given myself to.
I opened up to him, and he did the same in return.
We saw the ugly parts of each other and chose to be together anyway.
He loved all the little things I hated about myself that I never let anyone else see.
We found a home in one another. A dangerous power to give to someone.
It hurt when he left, but it pained me more seeing him doing well, thriving even.
Did he never feel the way I did? Never thought to come back to me?
Was I nothing to him, especially compared to how much he mattered to me?
Did each day pass without his mind remotely wondering how I was?
If I was okay? If I missed him at all? If I had moved on?
How could he be so okay with the way things happened when I was fucked up over it?
“Do you need me?” Magnus asks Dom.
“No. Stay here. Hayes and I can handle it.”
I avert my attention from Coen to the food in front of me. I push it around on my fork, no longer hungry at all despite everything being delicious. Between the rollercoaster of dinner conversation and the period cramps I’m having, I’d rather be horizontal than sitting here awkwardly.
“June.” Dominic folds his napkin and sets it on the table. “Are we in agreement?”
I consider his question for a moment. “Yes.”
“Good.” He leaves out the girl part. “You mentioned something earlier. About someone needing talked to.”
“What?”
Magnus leans over and whispers, “Are you done?” while pointing at my plate.
I nod and he takes it, cutting into the steak and finishing off what I left behind.
Dom adjusts the sleeve of his shirt. “I said I would talk to Jack, you said no, but insinuated there was another person. Who?”
“Oh. Nothing. No one.”
“As much as I’d like to, I can’t read your mind.” He moves to the other arm. “This is my expertise. Trust that I would take care of it, whoever it may be.”
I shouldn’t, but I say it anyway, “I was referring to the guy who kidnapped me.”
Dominic pauses, shifting his gaze at Coen, who has now turned around and is leaning against the wall.
“Can you tell us anything about him?” Coen speaks up first, which is surprising since he’s usually doing what he can to ignore me.
“Um.” I think back to that night. The bag that went over my face, the wetness on the inside that made me weak and unable to get away.
“No detail is too small,” he adds. “Any identifying marks, hair color, height, build.”
“He was sort of chubby. Definitely not in shape like you guys are.” I glance at each of them.
“Brown hair, beard. He was chain-smoking cigarettes.” I flit my attention to my wrist where he had pushed the hot thing into my skin.
I rub the spot and recall the painful burn that had woken me up from my drug-induced slumber.
“He had scars, all over his face. And a tattoo, on his arm.” I point to the spot on mine, right where the sleeve of my shirt ends. “I couldn’t see what it was though.”
Magnus places his hand on my upper back and gently glides it around.
“Good, this is all helpful, J.” Coen takes in every detail like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. “What else?”
My finger trails the cut along my chin. “He had a switchblade. Was talking about Halloween…carving pumpkins. Told me he was following orders but didn’t say who from, just that I picked the wrong side.”
I sense the energy in the room continue to shift with each detail shared. A combined rage settling through all of us at getting revenge.
“I broke free from the chair he had me tied to, saw an opportunity to take the knife, and plunged the thing into his thigh before getting the fuck out of there.”
“Do you remember where you were?” Coen keeps his eyes trained on me.
I shake my head. “No. I just ran, and kept running until I saw something familiar. It was all a blur.”
“You did good, J.” Coen’s expression remains hard but softens in the slightest.
“I want to slice him up the same way he intended to do to me.” I don’t mean to say this out loud, and yet it slips out anyway.
“You’ll get your chance, don’t worry.” Dominic snatches his keys off the counter. “We’ll make sure of it.”
Is he serious? How would he ever find the man responsible? I don’t have a name, a location, anything of use other than a few vague details about the psychopath. Still, I find myself believing his assurance that justice will be served.
“Hayes.” Dominic tips his head for him to come on.
The two of them leave without another word, disappearing into the garage and going to work on whatever task they face tonight, leaving me and Magnus behind.
Magnus gathers the plates, stacking them on top of each other. “How about a movie?”
I help him clean off the table and carry what I can over to the kitchen. I put the salt and pepper shakers back where they belong, and face the cabinets. “Which one has the Tupperware?”
He stops rinsing the dishes to come over to me, wiping his hands on a towel on the way. Magnus grazes his fingers against my cheek. “I can get this. Go sit down.”
“Another stipulation of staying: you guys have to let me do stuff. I’m not helpless.” I point to the vast selection. “I will climb all over those expensive countertops if you don’t tell me which one.”
Magnus grins and steps forward, reaching to a top cabinet. His shirt goes up, revealing a section of a tattooed bird on his torso. A phoenix. It’s beautiful, just like the man it’s permanently marking. “Here.”
We make quick work getting the leftovers put away and cleaning up from dinner. It doesn’t take long for us to find a groove and accomplish our mission, functioning in perfect harmony.
“About that movie.” I lean against the island once we’re done.
“Yeah?” Magnus raises a brow at me and glides closer, until he’s standing right in front of me. “You up for it?”
“Not like I have anything else going on.” Since I’m not allowed to leave, and my shift was canceled. “Actually, hold that thought.”
Magnus tilts his head.
I reach into the pocket of my sweats and pull out my phone. I touch the last number in my call registry and push the speakerphone button.
It rings twice then it connects.
“June, listen, I know you’re upset, but I can’t really talk now.”
“Jack, after further thought, I wanted to inform you that I will, in fact, be quitting. Consider this my immediate resignation.”
Magnus grins and bobs his head up and down in approval. He presses his thumb and index finger together to make a little circle. “Nice,” he whispers.