Before We Fall (8 page)

The sunshine is bright as I collapse into the seat of my car with my coffee and my purse. How the hell did morning come so fast? God. Is there anything worse than mornings?

I turn the key and realize that, yes, something is worse.

A morning when your car doesn’t start and you’re supposed to be on time for Joe’s Gladiators or “you can forget about coming back in” is worse.

Fuck
.

“You’re a piece of shit.” I berate my car as I turn the key again and again. But there’s nothing. Only a depressing click that announces in its mechanical way that my engine is not only dead, it’s really fucking dead.

Poor Brand. Because I do the only thing I ever know to do nowadays. I reach for my phone and call him.

“Yes?” he groans sleepily, forgoing a hello.

I quickly explain my predicament, and true to form, like a knight in a big-ass shining F-150, he rides to my rescue with a droll expression and bed-head.

I smile sheepishly as I climb into the truck.

“I’m so sorry to bother you,” I tell him truthfully. “I just didn’t know what to do. I have no idea what’s wrong with my car and I could take the El, but I’m not sure where the closest stop is to the gym, and if I’m late, I’m done. Joe doesn’t put up with that.”

Brand shakes his head as he pulls back out into traffic. “Don’t worry about it. I’d rather you not get into trouble again. Who needs sleep anyway?” His voice is husky and rough and if I had any doubts that I’d woken him up, I’d be over them now as I listen to his sleepy voice.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him again. “I’ll pay for your coffee this morning. How’s that?”

Brand grins at me good-naturedly. “Deal.”

I stare out the window, watching the Chicago bustle as it passes by. So far, there’s no sign of the odd look that I’d seen in Brand’s eyes the other night, and for that I’m thankful. I really, really just need for us to be normal. Unfortunately for Brand
, normal
always entails saving me from something.

“Do you ever get tired of bailing me out?” I muse aloud. “I know Gabe used to lecture me all the time. You never do.”

“That’s because I’m a saint,” Brand announces as he turns onto a side street and heads his big truck toward the gym. “You can ask anyone.”

I giggle. “I don’t have to ask anyone. You put up with me, so you should definitely be canonized. I’m gonna have to talk to the pope about that.”

“You’re not Catholic,” Brand points out as he turns into Joe’s parking lot.

“I know,” I answer. “I’m gonna have to turn on my charm.”

“Good Lord,” Brand shakes his head. “No need to give the man a heart attack. I’ll be back to pick you up tonight. Call a tow truck to come get your car.”

I’m kissing his cheek when I hear the roar of a car pull up next to us. The sound of that engine, powerful and loud, is unmistakable, and I know before I even look that it’s Dom.

I murmur good-bye to Brand and glance at Dom as I climb from the truck. I can feel Brand staring after me, but I ignore it. I can’t think about Brand at all, because frankly, whenever Dominic is near, he owns the vicinity.

He’s dressed in black today: dark washed jeans and a tight black T-shirt that skims his chest just right. His green eyes somehow even look black as he stares at me, waiting for me to walk past. He takes in everything… the way I kissed Brand, the way I move from the truck, the way I try not to look at him.

His lip twitches, and once again I get the feeling that he
knows me.
Everything about me. It’s disconcerting.

I walk past him and he follows. I can feel every step he takes, his presence behind me a tangible thing, like a force field of sexiness and arrogance. I do my best to ignore it.

When we reach the door, I pause, and he reaches around to grab it, opening it for me. As he does, I catch a whiff of his scent, something unique to him. Musky yet spicy, totally male. I inhale deeply as I walk in, never once looking back at him, even when I mutter thank you for holding the door.

I’m not falling for his sexier-than-thou attitude. Spread-eagled on his bed, my ass. He can kiss my ass right now.

I think I hear him chuckle as I lift my nose in the air, but I’m not sure. And I don’t care. I make a beeline for Joe’s office to find out what he wants me to do. Dominic follows me at a respectable distance, and together we get our marching orders from Joe, who seems especially crusty today.

“I want you to clean out the locker room,” he tells Dominic tiredly before he looks at me. “And Jacey, you can help weigh the boys. We’ve got to get their weights logged so that they’re official for the week. The clipboard is over there and the scale is in the locker room.”

“Are you okay?” I ask him hesitantly as I reach for the clipboard. “You seem… tired.”

He stares at me, his steely eyes cloudy. “Do I also seem like I have ovaries? If I want to chat like a girl, I’ll let you know.”

Burn.

My cheeks explode at the put-down, and I can practically feel Dominic smirking at me. I know Joe’s bark is worse than his bite… but god. His bark is pretty bad.

“Noted,” I answer quietly as I head for the locker room.

Dominic follows me silently.

He doesn’t mention Joe’s bad mood, and I don’t either. I’m grateful for his silence because I feel a little humiliated at the moment. There’s nothing worse than putting yourself out there, only to get stomped on.

We set to work, Dominic cleaning the walls and metal lockers, and me weighing giant, sweaty boys.

The entire time, I know exactly where Dominic is in the locker room, even if I’m not looking at him. I feel him. I feel his presence in relation to mine. I hear his breath, his movements. I smell his cologne.
I’m aware of him.
Regardless of how determined I am to ignore him, there’s electricity between us, and I can’t pretend it’s not there.

I know he feels it too, because every time I do glance at him, he seems to be looking at me, his dark, dark eyes holding something in them that I can’t describe.

I gulp and scribble down a weight, then motion the next boy to step up.

Jake grins at me as he pretends to shield himself, his big boyish hands splayed in front of his chest.

“You’re not gonna kick me today, are ya?” He laughs as he steps onto the scale. I move the counterbalance to get his accurate weight and roll my eyes.

“Two-eighteen. And no, not unless you try to grope me again.”

He laughs and steps off. “I wasn’t trying to grope you. That was just me saying hello.”

“Huh.” I sniff as I log his weight. “Try saying it with your mouth next time, instead of your hands.”

He chuckles again. “You’re all right, Jacey. For a chick.”

I sniff again, but I smile at him this time. Joe did say that I just needed to show them who’s boss. The other boys seemed to have learned from Jake’s mistake, because they’re all friendly to me now, and maybe even a little nervous. I smile at that thought and motion another boy up.

Time passes quickly, and before I know it, Joe comes in.

“You two.” He motions toward Dom and me. “Come with me.”

We glance at each other, but follow Joe’s lumbering steps as he leads us into the gym’s kitchen. It’s a large, older room with crudded-up corners and yellowed counter tops.

“The kids out there, they don’t usually have enough to eat,” he tells us. “I try to make sure that they get something here, an after-school snack, I call it. But really, it’s a meal. The walk-in needs to be cleaned up and the food needs to be organized. Throw anything bad out, but only if it’s bad. I’m not made of money, and we need to be judicious with supplies. Got it?”

We both nod, and I’m impressed once again with Joe’s heart, even if he did snap my head off.

He leaves us and Dom and I look around.

“Well, fuck.” Dom sighs, glancing at the dented-in cooler door. “This is going to take a while.”

I shrug. “Oh, well. I’d rather be busy than sitting around counting down the minutes till we go home.”

“Well, okay then. After you, Princess.” Dom gestures with a shrug, holding open the heavy metal door, allowing me to go first. “Don’t trip on the rust. Jesus. I think these appliances were made in 1940.”

He’s right. The cooler is a relic, old and creaky. I don’t even like to be near it, much less
in
it.

As we step inside, I automatically shiver, running my hands over my goose-bump-covered arms as I look around at the haphazardly stacked shelves of food. It smells like stale food, standing water, and armpits in here.

“God. I don’t think this place has been cleaned since 1940, either.”

I poke at the food, some of it outdated and some of it fresh, and Dom sighs. “Well, this is gonna take a while. I can see that. We forgot the bucket and sponges. I’ll be right back.”

He turns back toward the dented door, but when he pushes down the handle, nothing happens.

“What the hell?” he mutters. He wiggles it harder, then puts his weight into it. I stare at him, dumbfounded, watching him struggle to open the door. Finally, he turns around and stares at me.

“We’re locked in here.”

I try not to freak out as I shrug and stare at the locked door.

“Don’t worry. Joe will come hunting for us before he leaves. It’ll be okay.”

But Joe doesn’t.

And it’s not okay.

It’s freaking cold. It’s small. It smells like a swamp. And we’re trapped.

We straighten the food on the shelves in an effort to move around so that we don’t get too cold as we wait, but eventually we run out of things to do. And I’ve got goose bumps on every plane of my body, and still Joe doesn’t come.

I bang on the door, the cold metal stinging my hands, but no one hears. I shout. But no one hears. I even kick the door. No one hears and no one comes. Finally, I slide to the floor dejectedly.

“Can we freeze to death in here?” I look up at Dominic, who is leaning against the wall, apparently calm.

He shakes his head. “Nah. It’s a cooler, not a freezer. It won’t be comfortable, but we won’t die.”

“When do you think someone will find us?” My voice is small and Dominic glances at me.

“It’s hard to say. I don’t know if Joe walks around and does a final check before he goes home at night, or not.”

“Fuck.” I sigh, letting my head fall backward against the wall.

“You can say that again,” Dominic tell me as he slides down to sit next to me, letting his head rest against the wall, too.

“Fuuuck.” I draw the word out for maximum impact. But it doesn’t make me feel any better. For a second, the walls close in around me until something occurs to me.

“My cell phone!” I blurt, suddenly remembering that we’re in the twenty-first century. I pull it out of my pocket, but am dejected yet again to find that I don’t have a signal.

I look over to find Dominic shaking his head. “I don’t have a signal either. These walls on this cooler are thick and metal. Nothing’s getting through it.”

“I think the universe might be throwing us together,” I finally answer, putting my cell back in my pocket.

I’m kidding, but Dominic smirks again, his trademark smirk… the one that made him famous. Even now he seems cool and calm, which is exactly the opposite of how I feel.

“Like fate?” he asks. “I don’t believe in it. And if there
is
a Fate, she’s a cruel bitch.”

I stare at him because there’s something in his face now, something vulnerable, just for a second. Something hurt. But then he covers it up and once again, he’s a closed book. I can’t help but be intrigued by these glimpses. There’s so much more to Dominic Kinkaide than anyone knows. I can feel it.

“Well, we’re stuck in here together. We might as well get to know each other,” I tell him, in large part because of that look in his eye. “Because god only knows how long we’ll be here, and the silence is killing me.”

Dominic is already shaking his head. “No, thanks. I don’t care to see the details of my life splashed across the tabloids tomorrow. But thanks anyway.”

He crosses his arms over his chest and settles down, closing his eyes.

I shake my head, feeling a little sad at his outlook on life. “It must suck to be you,” I tell him. “To always think the worst of people. You should know, not everyone is out to use you. Or exploit you. Just FYI.”

He opens his eyes, raising an eyebrow. “Really? It’s been my experience that generally, someone wants something from me. I’m a big one to learn from past experiences.”

“I bet you are,” I answer wryly. “Too bad it seems like not many of them were good.”

Dominic scowls as he tries to get more comfortable on the floor next to me, his long legs crossing at the ankles.

“You don’t know anything about me. You only know what my publicist manufactures for the public. Everything you know about me is engineered, perfectly placed, perfectly timed. It’s all a game, Princess. The masses just don’t know that.”

The masses.
As if the rest of the world is completely separate from him. Apparently, I’m part of the masses, along with everyone else, while Dominic is alone. In his mind, it’s Dominic against the world.

Suddenly, I really do feel sorry for him. He might be rich, and he might be gorgeous, but he wears the utter weariness of his life on his face. It’s clearly way too much for someone his age. It’s like he’s a hundred years old and he’s just tired of it all.

“You know, if you don’t like your life, you can change it,” I tell him, my lip shivering with the cold. “You’ve got the world on a string. You can do anything you want. You realize that, right?”

Dominic stares at me, his green eyes gleaming in a dangerous way. “We work together for a couple days and you think you know me now?”

I ignore his sharp tone. “No. Of course not. But I know
of
you. And I can see a lot on your face. More than you’d probably like for me to.”

He stares at me, his gaze unreadable. “Such as?”

I stare at him, appraising him. “You’re jaded. And dark. And something has hurt you badly, something in your past. You think you’re all alone and you’re tired of everything.”

Dominic breathes sharply, not taking his eyes off of mine. “You think you can see all that?”