Chapter 19 Dominic
DOMINIC
The sounds of my phone buzzing wakes me, and I blink for a moment to get my bearings. Pale light colours the sky, but the sun isn’t up yet. It’s early.
I look around, and remember that I’m in Mia’s front room. I’m covered in a thick, fuzzy blanket, which she must have brought out for me some time during the night. When I actually did go to sleep on her couch, like an old bloody man.
My phone stops buzzing, then starts again.
I sit up and fish it out of the pocket of my trousers, seeing Barry’s name on the screen.
I swipe my thumb across the screen and put the phone to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Sorry to call you this early,” Barry says, and he’s out of breath, as though he’s walking fast.
“That’s alright, what’s going on?” I rub my neck, which is stiff from lying at a strange angle on this couch. Fuck, getting old is exhausting.
“I got a call late last night that Archie’s back.” Barry huffs out a breath. “From Jordan Sumner.”
I sit up straighter. “Jordan?”
“Archie was at his house screaming blue bloody murder at the door that Jordan was sleeping with Mia. He’s lucky Jordan didn’t call the police on him.”
Oh fucking hell. I pinch the bridge of my nose, my heart doing a deeply unpleasant flip-flop in my chest.
“Shit,” I mutter.
“He’s not, is he?” Barry asks. “I can’t imagine Sumner’s the type, but-”
“No, no he’s not.” I bloody am though. I clear my throat, throwing the blanket off and swinging my feet to the ground. “Jordan and Mia are friends, good friends, there’s nothing going on there.”
“I didn’t think Mia was the type to cheat.”
That word has me swallowing hard. “No, she’s not.” I get to my feet to try and stretch my body and wake myself up. “Do we know where Archie is now?”
“He’s at my place, if you can believe it.” Barry laughs harshly. “Had to go round there and break it up otherwise our team captain would have landed in hospital and your son would have been spending the night in a prison cell. These young lads, I tell you what. Were we like that?”
“Yes, we were, Barry.” I run a hand through my hair and sigh. “Listen, I’ll go home and shower, get in some clean clothes and come to yours.”
“Where are you?”
Fucking. Imbecile. “I, uhhhh, Mia had an accident yesterday, so I was helping her friend Charlotte look after her. You know, running to the pharmacy and stuff.”
“Shit, is she alright?”
It occurs to me in that moment that Archie would have seen the bump on Mia’s head, the bruise around her eye. He knew she was hurt. And yet his first thought was still to go and beat the shit out of a man he suspected of sleeping with her. He hadn’t even told Barry about it when he’d calmed down.
“She’s fine,” I reassure him quickly. “Run-in with a bloody paparazzo. It’s sorted now. She had a few stitches and we made sure she got some rest.”
“Ahh, you’re a good dad, you are.”
I grit my teeth and huff out a breath. I wish everyone would stop bloody saying that. I know it’s my guilt talking. Fucking guilt and shame and everything else that’s bundled up with all the wonderful remnants of last night.
“Considering my son was out screaming down Chelsea at a teammate, I have to wonder,” I say with a forced laugh. “Anyway, I’ll be round in a bit.”
“Not a worry, I’m just out on a run to clear my head after last bloody night.” Barry groans as it sounds like he starts bouncing up some stairs. “I’ll see you soon, chief.”
“Yeah.” I hang up and am instantly overtaken by a swift feeling of nausea. What a mess. What a bloody fucking mess.
Mia’s head pokes around the corner and she gazes at me with wide eyes. “Morning,” she whispers, and tiptoes across the room. “Who was that?”
“Barry.” I can’t help but smile as she stands in front of me, her hair cascading down over her shoulders. “Trouble with Archie.”
“Oh, shit.”
“Yeah. He went to Jordan’s and lost it because he thinks you’re sleeping with him.”
Her eyes widen even more. “Oh, shit.”
“It’s a mess.” I dip my head to plant a soft kiss on her lips, which she returns like it’s the most natural thing to do. “Don’t worry, I’m going to go sort it.”
“Is Jordan alright?”
I nod. “He’s fine. Barry came to the rescue.”
“Good.” She watches me as I head out to the hall, and slip on my shoes. “I, uh…” She trails off, biting her lip. “I’ll see you again soon, then.”
I smile at her as I shrug on my coat. “I bloody hope so.”
She returns my smile, and lunges forward to press another warm kiss to my lips. “Call me, yeah?”
“I will.” I plant one last kiss on her forehead, and slip quietly out the front door.
The drive back to mine gives me plenty of time to agonise over what an arsehole I am. What have I done? It was one thing to look after her, to cook for her, even to kiss her, because there was still a way back from that.
There was no coming back from getting to my knees and eating my daughter-in-law’s cunt before fucking her on her kitchen counter.
The worst part of it is that I still don’t regret it. Not even a little.
And I’m not sure what that makes me.
Now Archie’s gone off the rails at Jordan Sumner of all people. I shake my head, running my hands across my mouth. If Archie’s going to go off at Jordan like that, what the hell is he going to do when he finds out about me and Mia?
What a fucking mess.
I’m barely dry from my shower when my phone rings again, and it’s Andrea.
I ignore it. I’m not having another pointless conversation with my ex about our adult son. She can take it up with him.
Barry lives barely a ten minute drive from my place, but it’s enough time to convince myself that somehow I’ve got the word Guilty tattooed on my forehead.
I adjust the turtleneck jumper I’m wearing to hide the love bite Mia left on my neck.
The thought of her teeth sinking into my flesh, her mouth sucking on my-
Stop it right now.
Wrong thoughts, bad thoughts. Not what I should be thinking when I’m on the way to give my son a bollocking.
Barry opens the door for me with an irritated look on his face.
“Morning, Dominic.” He gives me a nod and steps aside to let me in. “He’s out the back in the sunroom.”
“In fine form?”
“Oh, always.” Barry hangs back when we reach the kitchen. “I’ll leave you both to it. Fancy a coffee?”
“Sure,” I reply over my shoulder, and push through the double French doors to the sunroom.
Archie’s pacing back and forth at the end of the room like a caged animal.
His hair’s been cut, some strange, trendy undercut style that makes no sense to me.
He’s sporting stubble which is unlike him.
His mouth pinches, his brows drawn down, his hands in constant motion as he fiddles with his fingernails.
He looks so much like his mother like this, fury twisting his features.
His raging movement stops as the door falls closed behind me. He sets his jaw, nodding as he looks me up and down.
“Feels like I’ve had the headmaster called on me,” he says with a sneer. “I’m surprised that cowardly little fuck Sumner didn’t call you instead of Barry.”
“He knows Barry wouldn’t give you a walloping.”
Archie laughs. “That’s true.”
I put my hands in my pockets and fix him with a stern stare. “Where the fuck have you been?”
Archie shrugs, turning away from me to look at the window at the sky, the colours changing as the sun slowly rises. “You know, being your son was a blessing and a curse.”
“I can relate to that. Being Billy Boy Graves’ son was… a challenge at times.”
“Yeah, but it was all different back then, wasn’t it?” Archie turns back to face me. “And you loved it. You loved the club, and the name, and the fame. That’s why you weren’t around when I was little.” He shrugs. “Were you? You were never there. Too busy being Dominic Belter Graves.”
I sigh heavily. “I know I made mistakes when you were a kid, I’ve never pretended otherwise. And I’m sorry. But all of that doesn’t excuse this.”
“Doesn’t it?”
“No.” My voice drops low, and Archie crooks an eyebrow at my tone.
“You’re thirty years old, and there comes a time when we have to stop blaming our parents for our bad behaviour.
It’s your choice now. Whatever I did, however I let you down, because I was young and stupid and unhappy in my marriage, that’s all not your fault, but it’s also not an excuse. ”
Archie narrows his eyes and grins. “Becoming all philosophical in your old age, ey?”
“Where. Have you. Been?” I ask again.
“I was in Spain!” Archie throws his hands up and growls. “Fuck, you all know where I was, it was all over bloody social media, everyone knew where I was and the only one who cared? Grandpa. Of course.”
“Save it,” I snap. “No one’s going to feel sorry for you. What were you doing in Spain?”
Archie huffs out a breath. “I was trying to build myself a life, a bloody name, something from outside of your fucking shadow!” He gestures to me sharply, and when his eyes meet mine, they’re filled with pain and anger.
“I wanted something for me, just for me. Something that I built. Me, from the ground up. Something that no one else could lay claim to. Just me.”
“And how did that work out for you?”
Archie scoffs out a laugh. “You’re unbelievable. How can you be so callous towards me?”
“Callous?” I chuckle, shaking my head. “Callous is leaving your wife with nothing but a pile of red lingerie that doesn’t belong to her. Mia deserved that, did she?”
Archie’s face drops, and he quickly averts his gaze. “That… that was…”
“A mistake?” I take a deep breath. “Yes, I’m sure it was. Who was she?”
“You don’t know her.”
“I didn’t ask if I knew her, I asked who she was.”
He frowns at me and draws his shoulders up in a shrug. “What does it matter who she was? She’s gone now.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Well that was fast.”
“You’d know,” he mutters. “You go through women like you go through clean pants.”