DOMINIC (Dragon Security Book 3) (4 page)

Amy

I stared out the window as Dominic negotiated the highway without a single curse at the cars that cut him off. He was careful to remain at the speed limit, careful not to draw attention to us. I knew we were in San Diego, but I had no idea why. I had no idea what was going to happen next. All I knew was that I was at the mercy of this man I once trusted above all else, who might or might not have killed my sister.

We pulled to the side of the road not far from the outskirts of the Marine base, near a little park. Dominic got out and started talking into the phone he’d bought back at the diner, pacing as he did, a hand buried in his pocket. I watched, trying to read his body language, but not sure I was getting it right. He glanced back at me a few times, but he didn’t seem to be talking about me.

We sat there for a good twenty minutes. The temperature inside the car began to rise. I would have opened the door, but there was the whole handcuff issue. I tapped on the glass, and he heard me because he raised a finger to indicate I should wait. Great. I’d just melt to death while he called his lovers.

I leaned back against the seat and rubbed the sweat from my forehead into my hair. I felt gross. I hadn’t had a shower since Friday morning, and it was Sunday now. Not only that, but I’d thrown on dirty clothes when they came to tell me about Emily. I needed a long shower, some fresh clothes, and some deodorant. But he was out there on the phone and I was stuck in this damn car! I should have gotten into the taxi when I had the chance.

He finally came back just as the heat was growing unbearable.

“Where are we going?” I asked as he jerked the car into gear.

He didn’t answer.

“Do you think we could stop by the mall? Or a Walmart?”

He glanced at me. “We have somewhere we need to be.”

“Where?”

Again he didn’t answer. I reached over and slapped his arm.

“You have to start talking to me.”

“Why? You’re my prisoner, remember?”

“I never said that.”

“You accused me of kidnapping you. Isn’t that the same thing?”

“Not necessarily.”

He rolled his eyes at me. Then he brushed a hand over his forehead and, for a second, I caught a glimpse of the exhaustion that had darkened the skin around his eyes.

“You haven’t slept.”

“No.”

“Shouldn’t you sleep?”

He continued to ignore me, guiding the car effortlessly over back streets that would have left me lost. We pulled into the parking lot of a Walmart, and I smiled, feeling like I’d gotten away with something. He removed the gun from the waistband at the back of his jeans and stowed it under the seat.

“You will behave,” he said, coming around to my side of the car. Like before, he took the handcuff and locked it around his own wrist and then wrapped our hands in a t-shirt.

“You can trust me.”

“Can I? You called a taxi.”

“But I didn’t get in it.”

He studied my face for a long minute. “Fine. But if you do anything to compromise me—”

“What would I do?”

“Oh, I don’t know, call for another taxi? Scream in the middle of the women’s clothing section? Tell someone I kidnapped you?”

“Thanks for the ideas,” I said, rubbing my wrist as the cuff fell away from it. “I’ll take each one under careful consideration.”

He shook his head, leading the way across the parking lot—a dozen paces in front of me—as though he had no doubt that I’d follow him. I did, of course. Where else was I going to go?

He knew things about Emily. He had answers that I desperately wanted. I had no choice but to follow him.

He led the way to the women’s department and stood back as I picked out several pairs of jeans, a couple of t-shirts, and underwear. Then we went to the toiletries and got shampoo and deodorant, a bag of razors, and a few other, small things that I couldn’t live without. He didn’t buy anything for himself and paid for it all it with cash, leaving me to wonder how well that job in Houston really paid.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

He glanced at me as we crossed the parking lot again.

“It’s a reasonable question.”

“I thought you were convinced I was with Emily.”

“You’re living in Houston. She was in Arlington. So it seems reasonable to believe that you weren’t together anymore.”

He opened the trunk of the car and gestured for me to put my purchases inside.

“Are you just going to ignore all my questions? Because, I may be wrong, but I figure since you kidnapped me, you owe me a few answers.”

He just shook his head, looking at me as though he was looking at a child who was wearing on his last nerve.

“I’ll scream.”

“Go for it.”

I clutched my fists and let fly with the loudest, longest scream I could muster. He grabbed me, pulling my arms behind me and shoving me toward the car.

“Shut up!” he hissed next to my ear.

“Answer my questions!”

There were people staring at us, but no one tried to stop him from shoving me into the car.

Yea for Walmart shoppers!

He came around and jumped behind the wheel, pulling out before I could do anything else to draw attention to us. I sank down in my seat, crossing my arms as I studied his profile. As much as I wanted to be mad at him—and I was mad, madder than I’d ever been in my entire life—I had to admire the way he looked, even when he was angry. His jaw clutched, the muscle working again. I wanted to reach over, smooth it down, and make his tension disappear. But that wasn’t my place anymore, was it?

We used to love each other. We used to laugh together and do stupid things, like write stupid or pornographic things on the community white board in my dorm lobby. Childish things. We would sit in the back of class and make out. Or toss pieces of paper at the people in front of us. There was this one time when we got caught tossing spitballs into people’s hair. The teacher threatened to turn us in to the dean, but Dominic talked her out of it by promising to mow her lawn for the entire month of September.

And then we moved in together, and we could hardly drag ourselves out of bed every morning. Sometimes, when he had a later class than mine, he would grab my hand and try to make me stay, mumbling things about how we could get along without college educations. He had this whole scenario where he’d work washing dishes and I’d teach piano to local kids. I’d laugh and blow holes in his theories by asking how we were supposed to pay for a piano and he’d call me a party pooper, threatening to tickle me until I stopped blowing holes in everything.

It was a carefree time. I thought it would last forever. Instead, it only lasted until he decided my sister was more fun than I was.

I closed my eyes, the image of the two of them kissing at that table filling my head. It was a beautiful day, spring in Paris, and I was so excited just to be there. To see them…I was almost happy for them. Isn’t that stupid? I was admiring them, thinking that Paris was meant for lovers like them. And then I realized who they were…and my heart sank.

Why her? Of all the people he could have cheated on me with, why her?

Dominic pulled the car into the parking lot of one of those no-tell motels that populate the outskirts of most big cities. I stared at the chipped paint and broken gutters on the side of the building, imagining the stains that would be on the sheets.

“Really? Can’t we go somewhere slightly better than this? Even a Motel 6 would be better.”

He didn’t acknowledge me. He climbed out and disappeared into the main office. I turned and watched the traffic go by on the street behind me. I could easily run out there and get picked up before he even realized I was gone. It wouldn’t be hard to get the attention of some lonely salesman who wanted companionship. Or even a cop. I could flag down a cop. There had to be a few patrol cars in this seedy part of town. But I didn’t do it.

He came back and silently drove the car to a corner of the parking lot. I followed him into a corner room on the ground floor, wrinkling my nose at the smell of stale cigarettes that filled the room.

“I’m going to take a shower,” I said, grabbing a couple of the Walmart bags he brought in and heading to the small bathroom at the back of the room.

“Leave the door open.”

“Do you want to join me? Make sure I don’t slip out the window?”

“I might.”

I spun around. He was watching me from the doorway, his duffle dangling from his fingers. But then he tossed it onto the bed and turned again.

“Where are you going?”

“Food.”

He was gone before I could say anything else.

The bathroom was halfway decent. Clean. I stripped out of the smelly, dirty clothes I’d been wearing for what seemed like months and climbed into the shower. The water was warm. Not hot, but warm. I could live with that. I lathered up several times, feeling like I would never get clean. Scrubbed my hair until my scalp was tingling. When I stepped out of the shower, he was still gone. My eyes fell to the phone sitting on the nightstand beside the king-sized bed. Wrapped in a towel and nothing more, I crossed the room and grabbed it, dialing my parents’ number without thinking twice.

The phone was ringing on the other end when Dominic walked through the door.

“Fuck!” he cried, crossing the room in two big strides, yanking the cord out of the wall. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Letting my parents know I’m okay. They lost one child; they don’t need to worry about the other.”

“You can’t do that.”

“Why not? I wasn’t going to tell them where we are.”

“Don’t you realize that people can trace calls? I you make that call, someone could trace us back here, and then we’ll have more trouble on our hands than you can imagine.”

“The police won’t do anything if I don’t press charges.”

“I wish it was that simple.”

He dropped the bag of food he had in his hand and pushed me back, slapping the cuffs on my wrist before I realized what he was doing. Then he leaned close over me to attach the other end to the headboard.

“Why?”

He glared at me. “Because I need to sleep, and I obviously can’t trust you to behave.”

“If you would just tell me what’s going on, maybe I wouldn’t do these things.”

“I’ve told you what you need to know.”

“You’ve told me nothing.”

He gave me this look that suggested that was exactly what I needed to know. And that made me see red.

“She was my sister, Dominic. You may have been fucking her, but she was my sister. She was my twin! Don’t you think that trumps any other relationship?”

“Yes, I do,” he said wearily, sitting on the edge of the bed. “But she was my friend. And she made me promise to protect you. That’s what I’m trying to do.”

“Your friend? Why do you keep insisting on denying what I saw?”

“I’m not denying it. I kissed her. And it wasn’t the first time. I would never pretend it was anything else.”

That cut through me. As much as I tried to tell myself that I was over him, I knew that I wasn’t. It hurt to think of him with Emily.

“Was she better than me?”

He snorted. “No one was ever better than you.”

“Then why?”

He looked at me for a long minute, his eyes moving slowly over me, over the towel that was the only thing covering my nudity. A little bit of amusement came into his eyes.

“This is familiar.”

“Is it?”

“Do you remember that night right after we moved into our apartment? The night you showed me the bag of ties you’d stolen from your dad?”

I blushed, remembering it far too well.

He leaned close, slipping a finger under the fold that held the towel in place. “I remember. I remember that you asked me to tie you up. And then you begged me to touch you, moving your sexy little hips so that when I did touch you, it was in all the right places.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“Not so long.”

His finger pulled the towel loose, exposing a little bit more of my breasts. My nipples were hard, pressing against the thin terrycloth like little pebbles. He was watching me, his eyes locked onto mine as his finger slipped lower under the towel, brushing against my breast.

“Did she turn you on like I did? Did she make you hot just by walking past you in the kitchen?”

“No,” he whispered. “You were the only one who could do that to me.”

“Then why?”

He brushed the towel away, exposing my breasts. He bent and captured one hard nibble between his teeth, biting down almost painfully. And then he ran his tongue over it, caressing it with the tip, the heat almost mind blowing. Then he sighed, pressing his head against my chest for a long second.

“Get some sleep,” he said, abruptly pulling away and lifting the towel back over my body. Then he went to the other side of the bed, punched his pillow a few times, and fell into a quick, fast, deep sleep.