The Dominator

by Prince, DD

  Tommy reached onto his desk and then caught me by the hand and pulled me to him, slipped my engagement ring on my finger, and then traced a fingertip from the hand without blood on it, across my lips, “This doesn’t leave your finger again. Ever. Say nothing to the girls.”

  I think I nodded. He kissed my hand and squeezed it, kissed me on the mouth quickly, then passed me back to Dario. He actually took me by the shoulders and moved me toward his brother who then took my shoulders and led me out. Tommy’s mouth was set in a grim line and his nostrils flared when he looked back at the bloody redheaded guy in the chair.

  As Dario led me out into the hallway, Nino put some flip flops on the floor in front of me.

  “I’m going to your father’s house in my pajamas?” I asked Dario while stepping into them.

  “Tell Nino what you need; he’ll bring it to the car.”

  “Umm…”

  “Don’t worry; I’ll get you something,” Nino trotted up the stairs without waiting for me to answer. I was glad I didn’t have to go back up there and walk past dead bodies.

  Dario and I went out to a waiting red SUV.

  “What on earth?” I asked when we got into the back seat.

  Dario shook his head, “Don’t ask me questions. Talk to your fiancé later. He’ll decide what you need to know.”

  Decide what I need to know? Wow. Does any one of these men know this is the 21st century? And okay, not only did I hear gunshots and see dead bodies again, what was that now, 4? But my supposed fiancé had just very frankly made the fact that he liked to see fear on my face known to his brother, his employees, and a guy who maybe wasn’t making it out of the office alive. I was now being ushered, in skimpy pajamas and Tommy’s robe, to his father’s house.

  When I got there, Lisa was in the doorway to receive me, literally. She hugged me and pulled me into the house, ignoring Dario and the two muscle guys behind him, “Are you okay?”

  I heard Dario on the phone, “Bro, we’re here,” Then he looked to Lisa, “Yeah, she’s fine. Lisa has her.” Then Dario and the two guys disappeared into that office that I was ushered into on graduation day, which felt like a million years ago.

  I nodded, not knowing what to say because I didn’t know what she knew. She was in a robe, too, her hair pulled up into a messy bun. She walked me to her kitchen where an older grandmotherly-looking black woman was frying bacon,

  “Hello, Tia, I’m Nita!” the woman said to me cheerily with a Jamaican accent “Coffee, right?”

  I nodded and sat at the table with Lisa and then that Nino guy came into the kitchen with a bag in his hand, “Clothes, Miss O’Connor,” he said and I peeked in the bag and saw a jean skirt, top, matching underwear and bra, and my purse. He also handed me an iPhone box, shrink wrap half on and half off, “Mr. Ferrano wants this with you at all times,” he said.

  “Thank you,” I said and put it on the table in front of me.

  He took two steps back and stood against the counter. I looked up at him and then to Lisa.

  “Nino?” Lisa asked.

  “I have orders to stay within 3 feet of Tia at all times, Leese,” he said softly. Obviously they were good friends by the way he spoke to her. She nodded at him, resigned-looking, then Nita passed me a cup of coffee, “Two sugars, Sarah told me?”

  I shook my head and smiled. Two sugars. “I’ll need one more, thanks.” I said sweetly. She smiled what looked, to me, like a knowing smile. She must be in the know about Sarah’s sugar hatred. I wasn’t going to let this happen, I had so little control over my life right now the one thing I could control was how many fucking sugars I’d get in my coffee so I was taking that third sugar.

  “So,” Lisa started.

  I looked at her. Nita was passing Nino a coffee and pulling another package of bacon out of the fridge.

  “I hear we get to help you plan your wedding and that it’ll be here!”

  My face must’ve said, “Duh, what?” because a familiar voice chimed in, Tommy’s father, coming into the kitchen, “Ah, my little dove, that wasn’t common knowledge yet.”

  “Oh?” Lisa blushed, “Sorry,” she smiled at her husband and shrugged. He leaned over and kissed her on the top of her head.

  “Good morning, Athena, ” he was dressed in a suit, as per what seemed to be the usual, and leaned over and poured himself a refill from the coffee pot.

  “Mornin’,” I said and my voice came out hoarse.

  He smiled at me and sat down at the large bistro style table with us.

  “Everyone, leave me and Athena for a moment,” he said and everyone left the room, including Nino and Nita who lifted her pan onto another burner and then abandoned the stove.

  He put his hand over mine, “Are you okay, dear?”

  I nodded and avoided the urge to yank my hand back.

  “Dario tells me you threatened him and Nino with a knife,” he had light in his eyes, a playfulness very much like what I sometimes saw in Tommy’s eyes.

  I tried to crack a smile but I don’t think it looked very genuine.

  “Tommy tells me you’re perfect. I can see that. You seem calm and together right now despite probably wanting to run for the hills, screaming.”

  If only I could. I thought this, but didn’t speak it.

  “You’re a spitfire. Beating up my son, pulling a knife on a guard. I think you’ll fit in here just fine. Dario’s been calling you Tia Tyson. You are a fighter.” He tapped my hand gently and then stood up, “My boy has demons. I think you could be the one to exorcise them,” he smiled. I didn’t know what to say, “And your father tells me you can cook like nobody’s business. That’s always a good quality in a wife.” he winked at me.

  I opened my mouth, wanting to speak but his eyes narrowed and I decided against it. I clamped my mouth shut. He looked pleased. It was almost as if I’d just passed a test. I frowned. What a bizarre thing to say right now and what…the …heck?

  He stood, “Your husband-to-be should be here any minute. We’ll all have breakfast.” He left the room. A moment later Nino returned, “If you’d like to get dressed I can escort you to a guest room.”

  I nodded, stood up and brought my coffee and the bag he’d brought me with me. My father must’ve had a conversation recently with Thomas Ferrano, one where he talked about me at length in a way that would result in my dad talking about my hobbies, my talents. That sort of conversation didn’t typically come into play when someone was threatening you --- no, that sort of conversation came with bargaining with someone, trying to sales pitch them. Did my father sales pitch me to Tom Ferrano?

  I couldn’t think about this right now; I had to go back out there and try to act normal around these people. I had to try to act normal because I wasn’t ‘allowed’ to talk about what had happened this morning, to act as freaked out as I felt. It came crashing down on me, then, that I couldn’t ever confide in anyone about my life without breaking his rules. I loved my friends, I loved our sessions where we sat and shared information, gossiped, talked hopes, dreams, and uncertainties. How could I not ever share my innermost feelings and what was happening in my life with anyone else? I also thought about Dad and wondered again if he’d had any idea what’d happened to me after I didn’t meet him at the food court in the mall.

  It was weird that Nino stood outside the room door while I changed. I reached into my purse and found the basics. I put my hair it in a ponytail, put on some lip gloss, mascara, and eyeliner, and then put my sleeping clothes into the bag and popped the iPhone into the jean skirt pocket and followed him back to the kitchen. There was laughter from downstairs. Nino took my bag for me, telling me he’d put it in Tommy’s car for me, and motioned for me to go ahead.

  Tommy was sitting at a large dining room table with Lisa, his father, and Dario and they were all laughing. Platters sat in the middle of the large table filled with breakfast foods. There was enough food to feed 10, rather than 5 of us.

  Tommy’s eyes sparkled as I entered the room and
he motioned for me to sit in the empty chair beside him. He looked completely composed, was dressed in a collared dark gray shirt and pair of dark distressed button fly jeans, black motorcycle boots, and he was eating a piece of bacon. I sat beside him and his lips touched my cheek, “You good, baby?” he asked me.

  I nodded while shrugging at the same time, “You?”

  “Peachy,” he said and wiggled his eyebrows. Then he leaned over and passed me the plate of waffles. He smelled freshly showered and I felt drawn to him, I wanted to climb into his lap, tuck my head under his chin and hold on tight. Of course I didn’t.

  We’d just been through a shooting incident where we almost got shot, then where he’d commando style retaliated and obviously just either killed one or two or had at least watched one or two men die. I’d just witnessed two dead men outside the bedroom and then watched him, clad in only his underwear, interrogate and sucker punch someone who was already black and blue and bloody. I glanced down as he spread jam on a piece of toast. His knuckles were bruised-looking. Yeah, he’d probably bloodied that guy being interrogated and who knew what’d happened to the guy afterwards? And what he’d said to the guy about me? That the only person who was allowed to put fear into my eyes was him? I felt a raw sensation spread deep inside of me.

  I wasn’t hungry. Death tended to lower my appetite, I guessed. I passed the plate of waffles along to Dario, who sat across from me, and just put a few pieces of cubed fruit on my plate.

  “That all you’re going to eat?” Tommy whispered in my ear.

  I nodded, “Not feeling so hungry.”

  “Excuse us,” Tommy said to the room and put his napkin on the table and reached for my hand. I took it and followed him out of the kitchen, down a hall, and out a back set of sliding doors onto a deck that overlooked a swimming pool.

  He took me into his arms and lifted me up a few inches off the floor, holding me tight “You okay?” he whispered into my hair. I started shaking again.

  He set me back on my feet and tipped my chin up with his thumb and index finger and then kissed my forehead softly, “Everything is fine. I dealt with that security breach and it won’t happen again. You don’t have to worry. By the time we get back home the house’ll be 100% safe.”

  “It the same people as Mexico?”

  “Don’t worry, baby. It’s dealt with. We’ll have brunch with these guys and then we’ll go for a drive and get out of the city for a bit, okay?”

  I nodded, looked down, but melted into him, feeling oddly safe.

  “Tia, smile, please. Come and eat. Okay? I won’t let anything happen to you. Anything. Ever.” He smelled so good. I inhaled him at the chest and nodded, then followed him back into the house. He hadn’t seemed threatening with me but that hadn’t settled my nerves any, either. I saw Tom Sr. in the doorway. He’d been watching us. He had a smile on his face. It was sort of a sick smile. It gave me the heebie jeebies.

  The rest of the meal was jovial. Not because of me, because of Tom Sr. and Dario, mostly. When we got back to the table Tommy heaped scrambled eggs and bacon on my plate and then went back to eating. I picked at the food but didn’t consume much.

  They were debating almost non-stop for almost 2 hours on a variety of subjects. Tommy was quiet other than dropping the odd wise crack in there to cut up one, the other, or both of them. I was quiet but I tried not to be broody. He seemed deep in thought, too. Lisa sort of just sat there looking pretty but she rolled her eyes at me a few times, too, due to the topics or the passion with which an argument was delivered, making me smile.

  Finally, Tommy rose from the table, “Well kids, I hate to break up the party but me and my girl need to see a man about a hog,” he fist bumped his father and his brother and then gave Lisa a kiss on the cheek. Dario and Thomas both kissed me on the cheek and Lisa and I hugged, then we left hand-in-hand after I thanked them for their hospitality.

  “You’re off the grid, then?” Dario asked him.

  He answered, “Till tomorrow.”

  Dario saluted him and Tommy saluted him back.

  Outside was a silver Jeep Wrangler. He opened the passenger door and ushered me in, moving the bag with my pjs, purse, and toiletries from the passenger seat onto the back seat.

  “A man about a hog?” I asked.

  He smiled at me, “You’ll see.”

  We drove for about half an hour, just outside of the city. He played the radio the whole way so we didn’t chat but half way or so he reached over and held my hand on the console between us. When we drove up a dirt road toward a farmhouse and barn, I started to wonder if the ‘man about a hog’ thing wasn’t just a figure of speech.

  He parked the jeep and motioned for me to follow him. It was a pretty place. Big barn, little stone farmhouse, a bit overgrown but wildflowers everywhere, and no visible neighbors. He opened a set of double barn doors on the big powder blue barn and inside there was a path down the center and horse stalls all the way down on either side. I heard no noise and smelled nothing that resembled animals but then when he opened a stall door and revealed a very shiny-looking candy apple red and chrome Harley Davidson motorcycle. Ah, a hog.

  “Care to put something exciting between your legs?” he asked, suggestively, smiling at me.

  I looked down at my clothes, “I’m wearing a skirt,” I said.

  He shrugged, “You’ll be against my back. No one’ll see your cute little baby blue panties,” he winked.

  “Obviously you saw them,” I wondered how he knew.

  “But I’m allowed to. Let’s do this.”

  He walked the bike out and then got into the jeep and backed into the barn, closed the doors and locked them.

  Then he passed me a metallic candy apple red helmet and put a black one on his head and then we got on the road and he vroomed out of the driveway.

  I held him tight, loving the feel of his muscular back and enjoying the scenery. It was a beautiful day. We drove about half an hour through the countryside, up and down winding country roads, and finally stopped at a little riverside park. There were picnickers, cyclists, fisherman, and hikers, and it looked really picturesque. He parked the bike and took my hand, helping me off, blocking the view of my undies as I was getting off the bike and ensuring my leg didn’t touch the hot exhaust pipe.

  He walked me up to a snack bar beside the river and said, “What kind of ice cream?” His eyes were sparkling with mischief.

  I blushed and looked up at a big whiteboard with a few dozen choices written in alternating orange and blue marker, “Blackjack Berry Thunder,” I said, with conviction.

  He chuckled, “Two please,” he said to the older woman manning the stand and whispered into my ear, “That’s got to be the polar opposite of vanilla,” he kissed me behind the earlobe.

  “Let’s just say my palate has gotten accustomed to more, err, flavor these days,” I flushed red but stared at him challengingly.

  He looked tickled pink, his eyes sparkled with mischief, “You ain’t tasted nothin’ yet,” he told me while kissing my knuckles. Then the lady passed us our ice cream and Tommy paid and we strolled away, hand in hand.

  “And maybe if I pick non-boring ice cream, maybe my life will stop being so darn exciting,” I added as we got to the riverbank and then Tommy sat on a large smooth rock big enough to be carved into a bench and with some comfy grooves that’d serve well to sit on. I sat beside him. The ice cream was remarkably good. I stared at the water, deep in thought.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” he asked.

  I looked at him. He was smiling at me, licking his ice cream, looking gorgeous and carefree.

  “How come you seem so calm and carefree?” I asked, then whispered, “We could’ve been killed this morning.”

  He shrugged, “My life has been one long game of chess and almost never boring, Tia. When I give myself a chance to breathe, I breathe. That’s what today is about. Us taking a minute to breathe.”

  I frowned. It sounded awful, “Your life always b
een like this? Your Dad never sheltered you?”

  He looked thoughtful for a second, “My Pop’s company has evolved over the years. I guess I evolved with it. I’ve been working for my father since I was 14. I’ve seen a lot, even before I started working for him. I’ve learned a lot. My sisters are a little sheltered, they know about Pop’s business but they know much less, but us boys…” he shook his head, “Constant chess game. I just make one move at a time and try to be as strategic as I can be.”

  Clearly it’d affected him. He had huge anger issues. He had to know this had something to do with it. I felt disdain for his father. What would Tommy be like if he’d had a normal upbringing?

  “I’m sure your life experiences have taught you a lot, too,” he said.

  I nodded.

  “You haven’t had the easiest life,” he added.

  “Yeah, true, but nothing like yours. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the constant threat, the violence.”

  “It’s not always this amped. And I have plans so that when I take over things will transition and eventually most of the risky stuff will be phased out.”

  I felt a spark of hope but it quickly extinguished as I recalled a scene in the Godfather when Michael Corleone’s wife talked about how the more legitimate he’d become, the more dangerous he’d become. I’d seen the movies so many times.

  What’d been apparent so far was that Tommy Ferrano did, definitely, have demons and that he had major mood swings. He was violent but he was also fiercely protective.

  “You threw yourself on top of me this morning,” I said, “to protect me from the gunfire.”

  “Of course I did.” He was staring at the river.

  “You came to Mexico yourself. You rescued me and then avenged me, well avenged yourself but I think me, too.”

  “Yeah.” He looked across the river at kids skipping stones directly across from us, “I’ll always protect you. I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.” He glanced at me quickly and I saw something flash in his eyes, pain, maybe.

  “With everything so far, that you covered me this morning surprised me. You keep surprising me. You’re not very predictable.”