by C. L. Parker
Gabe sighed wantonly. “Oh God, I hope so.”
Kerrigan Cruz.
Availia had adored her granddaughter. She talked about her almost constantly, like she was all she had to live for. Maybe she was. In the end, even that didn’t matter.
Kerrigan was nothing at all like what Availia had described. From first impressions, at least. It went without saying that Availia held her granddaughter’s life at a higher level of importance than even her own. The way she talked about her, it was like she was still an innocent child who hadn’t quite reached her full potential.
A child, she most certainly was not.
She had changed from her photos. Dominic thought she had been a cute young lady, but standing there face to face with her, he was able to see how much she had grown into a beautiful woman.
And she smelled so good.
He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, chastising himself for the primal urges a mere mental image of her could evoke. Her skin was creamy, her lips so full and pink. Her eyes – Jesus, they were hypnotic: catlike in shape and bathed in a milky blue. He had only seen that color on one other person, Availia. But where Availia’s eyes exuberated wisdom far beyond her age, Kerrigan’s were sensual and enigmatic. They drew him in and held him captive. A predator’s lure for its prey.
And she definitely had spunk. He admired that trait in a woman, even if it was a total contradiction to all the soft contours of her body. The way she handled, or tried to handle, that poor excuse of a man who referred to himself as her fiancé – really, it was downright adorable.
She was either going to be a whole lot of fun, or a major pain in the ass.
Dominic climbed the stairs to the second floor and opened the door that led to another set of stairs to the attic on the third floor. It had been renovated into a room, his room. It used to be Kerrigan’s playroom. A testament to Availia’s adoration of her granddaughter, she had left it just as it was – an homage of sorts. It wasn’t until he came to stay that she decided to change it and allowed him free reign over redecorating it, making it his own. That room had become his safe haven, but he felt like he was confined there, unable to truly be free. Although he was actually capable of coming and going as he pleased, it just wasn’t safe to do so.
The bleakness of the attic room was reduced with splashes of red and white on the walls. A black comforter was spread unevenly on a full-size bed that was placed on one side of the large room, and a matching black futon lined the wall on the other side. An aged wardrobe lined the far wall and was filled with several vintage rock tees and faded 501 Button Fly Levi’s. Dominic considered them the staples to his attire, along with a scuffed pair of Doc Martens. He didn’t even bother with underwear. The commando style made him feel less constricted, not to mention it helped save on the laundry. The only other belongings in his room were a modest stereo that sat in the corner between the window and the futon and an acoustic guitar that was propped against one of its speakers. The décor was sparse, but it was all he needed.
The guitar was his most prized possession. It had once belonged to Availia’s deceased husband, and she had given it to him after he moved into the house. He loved to listen to rock music and learned how to play the guitar by strumming along with some of his favorite bands. Many nights were spent sitting on the futon playing the old guitar, smoking a cigarette, and enjoying a cold beer. Short of having female company, he considered it the best way to pass the time.
Dominic sauntered over to the stereo to turn on his favorite AC/DC song, Ride On. The music spilled from the speakers, and the tense muscles in his body loosened as the beat filled the air. He turned toward the large double windows that faced the front of the house and opened them, letting the cool air flow through the stuffy attic room. The sun was sinking low in the sky, and he took a moment to relax as he sat on the wide windowsill and lit a cigarette. He savored the first draw of nicotine, parting his lips to let the smoke drift out his mouth in thick, ribbon-like curls before sipping leisurely on the now tepid beer.
He had climbed out that same window on many occasions, perching himself on the wood railing attached to the small balcony just to gaze up at the stars that scattered the night sky. For some people, haphazardly sitting in such a precarious position would’ve been a dangerous thing to do, but Dominic wasn’t some people. He was something else.
During the day, he observed the neighborhood families when they left to go to work, children as they played in their yards after school, or the occasional backyard cookout on the weekends. The activities he witnessed from his post on the balcony symbolized the freedoms that came from a normal life. As he watched those around him continue with their mundane routines, he wished he had the option to switch places with any one of them. Simple liberties that people seemed to take for granted just weren’t afforded to him.
It wasn’t like he could just jump in his car, motor across the state, and see the sights of the coast of Florida. Not if he wanted to stay safe. There were people out there that wanted to see him dead and would stop at nothing to make that happen. He sure as hell wasn’t going to make it any easier for them. Nope, he was a sitting duck.
He sighed and ducked back inside his room, butting the cigarette and taking another swig of his beer. He looked around the room. He hoped Kerrigan wouldn’t get too upset over the changes he had made, but he didn’t really care either way. With the exception of putting up with unnecessary bullshit, he had changed a lot over the past year because of Availia. He owed her his life, and Kerrigan had inherited his indebtedness. That didn’t mean he had to kiss her ass should she decide to go all mega bitch on him. Judging from the little show she had just put on downstairs, she was going to prove to be a little hellcat with a smart mouth.
Like he needed that bullshit on top of everything else he had to deal with. Still, he made a promise to her grandmother, and he didn’t take making promises lightly. That one fact had been a constant for the duration of his existence.
His life before Availia rescued him seemed like just a distant memory. So many days and nights he had spent on the streets, making business deals with some pretty nasty people, dabbling in things he had no business dabbling in. Dangerous things that he had come to regret.
He was more than surprised he had survived out there. Cubans can be some pretty ruthless people if you got on their bad side, but luckily for him, he hadn’t made any enemies among them. In fact, Ricardo, the lead man of the St. Augustine division of the Cuban Mafia, had taken him under his wing and treated him like a son. He had found Dominic wondering the streets and offered him a job. His desperation made him ruthless, and Ricardo took full advantage of that fact. He quickly learned that the happier Ricardo was with the work he did, the higher his pay was. The rest of the community accepted him and revered his crude business practices. A fact he shouldn’t be proud of, but it had kept him alive.
He knew the things he did were wrong: dealing drugs, fencing stolen property, roughing up or even taking the life of some poor sap that got on the wrong side of some very vengeful people. He wasn’t proud of what he had done by any means. On the contrary, he was quite disgusted with himself, but he only did what was necessary to take care of his little brother and his alcoholic mother. It wasn’t like anyone would give a young boy a job that paid enough to handle the shit he had to handle. He was supporting three people, for Christ’s sake.
He blamed his mother, Sarah, for the bullshit he had to endure. She was handicapped by her alcoholism, drinking herself into oblivion to the point that she couldn’t function or exist without it. Her dependency on the Devil’s juice left her unable to take care of Dominic or his baby brother. Hell, she couldn’t even take care of her damn self. But, she was his mother and gave him life – however non-existent and truly messed up it was – and he still loved her.
Dominic turned to Ricardo and the streets in search of the things that his mother couldn’t provide. With each dirty job, he somehow managed to swallow the bile that rose in the ba
ck of his throat. At least his family had a roof over their heads and food on the table. It was a shitty way to survive, but it was the only way for him to survive.
It wasn’t the fact that her son was dealing drugs or killing thugs that sent Dominic’s mother to an early grave. It was her overwhelming need for the drink. It slowly killed her leaving only the hollow shell of her body until that, too, had to be buried.
Dominic resented her for that. She never would tell them what drove her to the bottle; what had happened to her that was so terrible that she would just give up everything for the taste of the hooch. At times – in a drunken stupor – she would mumble things about their father, a man they never knew. She wouldn’t dare utter his name because she said he was the Devil, and it would surely bring him back from Hell. Sarah didn’t want him anywhere near her boys, so all Dominic could surmise is that he wasn’t a good man. On several occasions, he had considered hunting the bastard down and killing him with his bare hands for what he had put them through. However, he soon found out that it wasn’t necessary because he was already dead. So, when his mother died, so did the secrets they kept.
His little brother, Colton, was completely oblivious to it all. He became dependent on Dominic to take care of him and looked up to his big brother like he was some kind of saint. Of course he didn’t deserve that kind of reverence, but Colton also had no clue about the things his older brother had to do to make sure they were going to be all right. He just knew that all his problems were nothing in his brother’s more than capable hands. He was a smart kid with a lot of potential, and Dominic made damn sure he would get the chance to live up to all he could be.
He would surely have to pay penance for all the bad things he did to make sure that Colton had the means to go to college. He was going to be a doctor someday, and it comforted Dominic to know that his brother would be saving lives. Hopefully, making up for the ones that Dominic took by his own hand. It was a necessary evil on the streets – kill or be killed, survival of the fittest. If he wasn’t alive to take care of his little brother, who knows where he might have ended up?
Once Colton was off to school and his mother was dead and buried in the ground, there was no reason for Dominic to keep up the lifestyle, but he did. It was all he knew. Hell, he never even graduated high school because slinging on the streets and taking care of his family was a full-time job. It wasn’t exactly the career path Dominic would have chosen for himself, but it’s not like he was given much of a choice either.
Ricardo taught Dominic to always be a man of his word, but to never trust anyone else. This cold hard fact he had to learn the hard way. Trust wasn’t something that came naturally to him in the first place, but then he made the mistake of letting his guard down, leaving himself open and vulnerable. It was a woman who took advantage of his temporary lapse in judgment and crushed it, killing his ability to ever trust another. He would never give someone that much power over him again. To remind him of his foolishness, he branded a small token to the inside of his right wrist.
He pushed the jade bracelet that rested on the same wrist aside to read it again.
“Corazón de Hierro,” Dominic murmured in a fluent Spanish accent that was thick and flawless.
“Iron Heart.” He laughed bitterly at the translation before taking the last drink of his beer and tossing the empty bottle into the wastebasket. If only he had that little reminder tattooed there before he trusted that bitch, Sinclair.
Availia had tried to convince him that it didn’t have to be that way, saying that she knew he would find someone who would change his mind – and his heart. That was the kind of stuff only found in fairytales. His life was a lot of things, but a fairytale it most certainly was not. More like a horror flick.
Given the freak of nature he had become, he couldn’t even consider that someone could ever love him. Besides, a hardened person such as himself just didn’t have any love to give in return. It was impossible, and truthfully, he preferred it that way.
Even if his mother hadn’t been a raging alcoholic, she was dead. His brother was miles away, and the only person who did anything for him in his life had just passed away. When that crazy shit went down in Availia’s room that night, it had been to protect him. He was there, unable to do a damn thing about it because he just couldn’t. What would Kerrigan think of him if she knew that?
She would think he was a spineless coward, that’s what.
He plopped down onto the futon and raked his hands over his face. There were secrets he would have to keep from her, and he hoped he would be able to do so with her living in such close proximity. Availia had put so much faith in him. It scared the shit out of him because as much as he wanted to grant her the one favor she had asked of him, he just didn’t know if he had it in him to give. He was only half a man now, but he would do the best that he could and hope that Kerrigan would prove not to be too much trouble.
Oh, who the hell was he kidding? She was going to be a handful. Although Dominic knew full well the dangers that existed outside that house, she had no clue, and it was his job to protect her. She had already almost caused him to have to beat someone’s ass within moments of meeting her on the very first day. And they hadn’t even left the house. Her bastard of a fiancé must have lost his mind if he thought Dominic would just stand by and allow him to put his hands on Availia Cruz’s pride and joy. Not on his watch. Dominic would rip him limb from limb.
He stood up and grabbed a clean pair of jeans and a towel before heading down to the bathroom on the second floor for a shower. He could hear Kerrigan and her mother through the cracked door of the bedroom right under his. From the sound of their conversation, they were unpacking and setting the room up to make her more comfortable.
Gabe came out of the room closest to Availia’s old room and stopped when he saw Dominic in the hall. “Hey there, Dominatrix. Hitting the shower?”
“Um, yeah.” Dominic looked down at the towel in his hands as if to point out the obvious. “Where I come from, that’s what people usually do when they feel dirty.”
“Mm, I feel dirty, too. Shall I join you? I promise to drop the soap.”
Dominic’s normally tanned face went almost white, but he light-heartedly laughed off Gabe’s suggestive comment.
“Look, Gabe, I have no problem with whatever sexual preference you have because I’m secure enough with my own manhood to not freak out over it. But, please know that I am not batting for the same team. Okay? You’re wasting your time barking up that tree because I’m not in it.”
“Sassy mouth,” Gabe chastised as he smacked at the air between them before placing his hand on his hip. “You spout all that I-am-man, me-like-woman Neanderthal bullshit, and then you start talking about wood. You’re nothing but a big ol’ tease.”
“Whatever, Gabe,” Dominic sighed with a roll of his eyes.
“It’s all right, scrumptious. I get it. I mean, I’m not getting it, but I get that I’m not getting it – at least not from you. It’s cool.”
“Cool.” Dominic pushed the door to the bathroom open and went inside.
“Oh, and hey,” Gabe said, stopping him before he could close the door. “Thanks for what you did down there for my Kerr Bear. I never could stand that bastard, but she wouldn’t let me smack the taste out his mouth.”
Dominic only nodded in response, and then disappeared behind the door.
Gabe strolled on down the hallway and flung Kerrigan’s bedroom door open in a flamboyant fashion. “Divas! Your main flame has arrived. You may now grovel and worship at my feet.”
Priscilla picked up a pillow from the box in front of her and threw it at his head. Gabe put both of his hands up in front of his face to guard the attack. He caught the pillow and held it up by the tag, giving her a stern look. “You could’ve taken my eye out with this tag, Prissy. What kind of mother does that kind of shit?”
Priscilla giggled at his absurdity.
“Are you already done unpacking?” Kerrigan asked,
tucking some of her clothes into the bottom drawer of her dresser.
Gabe stomped his foot and let his arms slump down to his sides. Then he cocked his head to the side and stuck his bottom lip out in a pout. “Will you help me?” he whined.
“No. Uh-uh,” Kerrigan said, shaking her head at him. “Helping you translates into me doing all the work while you prop up your precious tootsies and bark orders at me from your throne as you file your nails. And then, you’ll just yell at me for mishandling your beloved Prada. Nuh-uh, not going to happen.”
“Damn, bitch! Dramatic much?” Gabe said with a smack of his lips and a roll of his head.
“Come on, you big baby,” Priscilla said with a sigh. “I’ll help you.”
“Yayee!” Gabe bounced up and down as he clapped his hands like a three-year-old. “Thank you, Mommy.”
Gabe had taken to calling Priscilla that shortly after meeting her, especially when she let him have his way.
“You spoil him. You know that, right?” Kerrigan asked. She shook her head at her mother. “He’s going to get a rude awakening when you and Dad leave tomorrow and I won’t cater to him like you do.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Priscilla said, walking over to the dresser to set the pictures she was holding down. Gabe took the opportunity while Priscilla’s back was turned to flip Kerrigan the bird. “You say that, but you and I both know that you’ll be joining us very shortly,” she said, turning to follow Gabe out the door.
She was right. Kerrigan catered to Gabe almost as much as her mother did. She just couldn’t help it. She loved her friend, and they were the only family he had.
Twenty minutes later, once she had finished putting away her own clothes, she set out for his room, chastising herself for being an enabler to Gabe’s guilty pleasures.
As she walked down the hall, the bathroom door opened and she smacked right into a very naked, very wet wall of flesh over rippling muscles.