What Makes a Man? (Sensible Hearts #1)

by H. Q. Frost

  As he stepped out of the bathroom, Nyla headed toward him, the blood now cleaned from her face, arms, and hands.

  "You okay?"

  "I love you," he told her pulling her to his chest.

  "I love you too, babe."

  "I'm sorry."

  "For what, Dom?"

  "Fighting at your house. That shit isn't me anymore. All I care about is you, Jeff, and my mom. That's all I need. No-one else. Kaitlyn was the only one from that group that was really my friend and she's gone. I don't need anything to do with them anymore."

  "Dom." She rubbed his back. "You work with Boney—"

  "His name's Greg."

  She pulled back and looked up at him. "You work with him and as long as you're not hanging around with him to do stupid things that risk your life, I don't care."

  "Everything Greg does risks someone's life." He looked away from her.

  "What do you mean? Did he do this, Dom?" She pulled out of his arms. "Why would he shoot Jeff?" she whispered, still not realizing the attack was on Austin's house and not Jeff. "Did you tell Jeff to come over?"

  "No. I don't know what he was doing there, but I can't let him out of my sight anymore. Fuck. I have to talk to my mom. We can't let Jeff out of our sight anymore." His legs moved fast to get him to his mom. "I don't know how the fuck we can do that, but it's got to happen. He can't be left alone."

  Nyla grabbed his hand as his voice slowly became more panicked. "I'll help too. Between the three of us, Jeff should be able to be with one of us throughout the day."

  Dom walked his mom away from Maleek and Nyla to privately talk to her. Nyla watched the emotions on her face and the first was concern before anger and she seemed to be reprimanding him. Nyla wondered if she was blaming him for what happened. It was only a few minutes until her features softened and she nodded her head in agreement then ended the conversation in a hug.

  She laid her head on her dad's shoulder and he pressed a kiss to her hair, wrapping his arm around her. The sun was rising and they hadn't spoken in hours.

  "Maleek." Marilyn gave his hand a squeeze when his head nodded as he fought sleep. "Go home. I appreciate you staying, but you can go home."

  "I'm okay." He enclosed her hand in his and leaned his head back against the wall.

  Marilyn looked over at Nyla who was curled up on Dom and asleep. Dom's eyes were on the same spot as they were when she looked at him almost an hour prior. He was staring at the ceiling, blinking every few minutes indicating he was still alive, but he hadn't moved. She'd asked hospital staff for answers twice in the six hours they'd been there, but was told to sit down and when someone could, they'd talk to her.

  Nine hours. Maleek had gone home and come back. Nyla went to Dom's to get him clean clothes and also changed her own bloody garments. Marilyn had spoken to several nurses who couldn't give her any answers but continuously told her someone would soon.

  "Sestak?"

  Dom jumped to his feet and looked at his mother.

  "Hi, you're Jeffery's mother, Marilyn?" a woman asked as she approached.

  "Yes. Is he out of surgery?"

  "You want to come with me?" It was a rhetorical question and when the doctor turned and headed down a hallway, Dom followed. "Are you family?" she asked gesturing them into an empty room that held a table, water cooler, and coffee machine.

  "This is my other son," Marilyn answered.

  "Have a seat, Mrs. Sestak. Coffee?"

  "No. Please, where's Jeff?"

  "Jeffery was shot in the abdomen, the hip, and the shoulder. The shoulder wound had an entry and exit point, then re-entry. The bullet entered right below his shoulder blade and exited out his clavicle then propelled into his neck puncturing his trachea."

  With a gasp she asked, "Is he paralyzed?"

  "No, Mrs. Sestak. Jeffery is in a vegetative state. I'm uncertain at what point complete loss of oxygen to the brain occurred but it wasn't long after the gunshot wound and he suffered cerebral hypoxia."

  "But what's that mean?" Marilyn stressed.

  "He's brain dead," Dom's voice said just loud enough they could both hear him.

  Marilyn's eyes flicked from Dom to the doctor for confirmation, and she slowly nodded.

  "He's on life support, but brain function is so low I don't see room for improvement."

  "But it's possible? He might recover?"

  Dom was to his feet and exiting the room but Marilyn still wanted the answer that deep down she knew.

  "No," the doctor replied compassionately.

  "Dom?" Nyla questioned when he breezed by them and was headed for the exit. "Dom?" she called out getting to her feet but pausing to glance back, looking for Marilyn.

  "I'll talk to him. Find Marilyn and find out what the doctor said." Maleek stood, not giving his stiff joints time to stretch.

  By the time he made it outside, Dom was long gone. His truck was in the parking lot making him think he was still around, but Dom was in a full-out sprint, headed for Boney's house.

  The front door was locked and finding the side door bolted, he grabbed the closest object and propelled it through a window. Unlocking the door, the only thing on his mind was choking the life out of Boney; like what Jeff had happen to him. Boney stumbled out of his bedroom with his gun in hand after hearing the glass crashing, but when he saw Dom, he sighed.

  "What the fuck was that?"

  Dom's determination to cause harm didn't slow and his hands went around Boney's neck while his thumbs pressed into his trachea. Boney could have shot him, but he dropped the gun and punched him in the stomach. When that didn't break Dom's grasp on his neck, Boney grabbed his face and propelled them to the floor, making Dom lose his grip.

  Gasping for air, Boney scooted away from him, keeping his hands to his throat.

  "You killed him!" Dom repeated the same words before attacking again.

  Barely able to fight back, Boney managed to get out of his hold and his eyes went to the gun several times, but he would never aim a gun at Dom. Just like he would have never fired if he had seen Jeff in front of that house. When Dom picked up the gun and pointed it at him, Boney shifted his eyes to look up but didn't make a move.

  "You killed him," Dom seethed, spraying phlegm and tears with his words.

  "I did what you asked," Boney rasped out, still holding his throat. "I didn't know."

  The trigger would have been pulled if Nyla wasn't in Dom's life. He dropped to his knees, abandoning the gun and when Boney grabbed it, Dom prepared himself. He expected an execution style death for attacking Boney like he did. The gun was placed on the table before Dom was abruptly yanked into Boney's arms. Their friendship may have been misguided but Boney considered Dom a brother. When the two met, Dom was at an impressionable age and Boney conditioned the young boy for the environment they lived in, because his own brother had done the same for him. When he lost his brother to violence, Boney tried to replace the void with Dom.

  A few minutes passed before Dom pulled away and walked out the front door without any words exchanged. His phone rang a dozen times but the only thing on his mind was getting the hell out of the city.

  Ten miles outside of the deprivation he lived in, he stopped at a quiet park that wasn't vandalized with graffiti, and there was no chance of drug paraphernalia or used condoms littering the children's play area. He was so close to the life he wished for since he knew of its existence, yet that ten mile difference was like a portal to a different world. Dropping his face to his hands, he cried.

  Marilyn stayed at Jeff's side while Nyla went looking for Dom when he didn't return.

  She knocked at the first place she thought of and loudly called out, "Boney?"

  When he pulled open the door, he silently stared at her as the aroma of marijuana billowed out from the hazy living room, making her take a step back.

  "Have you talked to Dom?"

  "I saw him this morning." Unable to maintain contact, his eyes dropped to her feet.

  "Where'd h
e go? Did he tell you about Jeff? He left his truck at the hospital and now he's not answering his phone." The tears started again and when Boney stepped up to hug her, she stepped back.

  "I'm not going to hurt you," he said pulling her into the unexpected hug. "I'm sorry about Jeff."

  "Why are you sorry?" she asked, and he realized she didn't know what happened.

  "Because he was my fucking friend too." He stepped away from her and leaned against the doorframe. "Because I know this will tear Dom up bad."

  "I just want to find him." Her shaking hands wiped at her tears and she glanced around the street.

  "I don't know where he went. Try Jesse's." He shrugged. "When you find him, let me know. I gotta tell our boss he won't be in for a few days." He walked into the house and closed the door before she responded.

  "Dom, you have to call me, baby, I'm worried," she said into her phone, leaving her third voicemail before heading back to her house.

  Austin's front lawn was roped off with caution tape and she noticed all the windows at the front of the house were shattered. While she stared at the scene, her eyes went to the bloody grass where Jeff had suffered. It hit her that the attack was on Austin, not Jeff. She fumbled for her phone again and dialed Dom.

  "Nyla," he answered.

  "What'd you do?" Her whispered accusation made his body rigid. "Dom! What did you fucking do?" she screamed through the phone.

  "Nyla—"

  "You fucking had a hit on Austin and got Jeff hurt! What the fuck did you do?" she screamed again.

  "Where are you?"

  "Don't!" She covered her face with a trembling hand. "Fucking don't," she muttered before hanging up the phone.

  "Nyla." The knock on the car window made her jump and she looked over at Austin.

  In a swift move, she got out of the car then shoved him back hard enough that he stumbled and fell.

  "What the hell, bitch!"

  "Stay the fuck away from me!" As she stormed toward him, he continued to scoot backward until he was on his lawn and the caution tape stopped her.

  "I just wanted to tell you about what happened last night!" he yelled at her as she headed inside her house. "Stupid bitch," he mumbled when her front door slammed.

  When Dom came running through her front door he found her on the couch in a bathrobe with damp hair and her notepad and pencil in hand. Their eyes locked and the house remained silent for several minutes until she set the notepad next to her.

  "Where were you?"

  "I went for a walk." He finished closing the door behind him.

  "Your mom is worried about you. I was worried about you."

  His eyes went to the drawing of her, Jeff, and Dom; sketched out to perfection and sporting goofy faces in the playful illustration.

  "My brother's dead, Nyla."

  "He's not dead," she protested.

  "Yet." He cleared his throat and sat next to her with enough distance they didn't touch. "Machines are keeping him alive. I had to walk and think about it all. Think about what the fuck I did."

  "Why'd you do it?" she whispered as tears filled her eyes.

  "You know why. I just don't understand what the hell he thought he was doing. Why he showed up and what his plan was. And I'll never get an answer."

  "You have the answer." She sat forward. "He was doing what you've always done. He was doing what he learned, and his heart was in the right place, but his actions weren't."

  Her logical reasoning left him confused and he glanced at her. "What do you mean?"

  "I don't know everything, Dom." She sighed with a shake of her head. "But I can only imagine what he heard you say about Austin. What you wanted to do to him, and he went there to do it himself, except it was at the same time as whoever you had this stupid plan with. Who was it, Dom? Who fucking shot Jeff?" Anger slowly built up while she stared at him through his silent defiance.

  After she stormed away, the bathroom door slammed and he stood, walking out the front door.

  "Dominic," Marilyn's persistent voice finally cut through his sleep and he blinked his eyes open. "Are you going to see Jeff? I'm removing him from life support today."

  Her words were a sucker punch. It'd only been a week, but a week where Jeff's symptoms only worsened. With refusal, he hadn't seen Jeff yet. He didn't want to see the shell of his brother. But his refusal didn't stop at Jeff; he hadn't seen Nyla or any of the people that tried to stop in to see how he was holding up. He wasn't holding up. Sleep was his only means of comfort because his brain shut off and regret didn't haunt him in his dreams.

  Met with silence, Marilyn wasn't surprised, and she left him alone. She was shocked when he exited his bedroom dressed.

  "Is anyone there?" he asked as she hurriedly grabbed her keys.

  "Not yet. Maleek and Nyla will be there in a few hours. Have you talked to her?" Taking his hand, she guided him out the door as if he needed coaxing.

  Staring down at the woman, she looked like his mom. Like the same woman he'd looked to for confidence to stay strong when in all actuality she should have been the one crumbling after all she'd been through. That tired smile was on her prematurely wrinkled face. Her blue eyes were wide and aware, ready to face the day, but they were forced. He'd seen her exhausted expressions when she thought no-one was looking, and she looked like she'd rather close those eyes and never open them again. Her air of confidence masked the years of abuse and pain she was accustomed to. And she was walking out of that house to say goodbye to one of her sons with the pain under a layer of support for others.

  "Mom?"

  Parking the car, she looked over at him wearing that smile he wished he could tell her she didn't have to fake for his sake.

  Instead, he asked her what had his stomach in knots and palms sweaty. "Are you sure you want to stop the life support?"

  "Honey." Gently taking his hands, he wanted to pull away at her cold touch, but he wouldn't do that to her. "Jeff died a week ago and we're forcing his body to stay. He's been resuscitated once already and that was only because I begged for it. Normally if someone's on life support and they crash, they're not resuscitated." She cleared her throat at the first sign of threatening tears. "Come on." Letting his hand go, she walked her son into the hospital and into his brother's temporary room.

  It was Jeff, not the dozens of machines Dom had pictured throughout the week. Not the scene that kept him away. The scene of a struggling body begging for help that no-one could give; a body that had to be attached to machines with tubes coming from everywhere. The elevated bed propped him slightly and only one single tube coming from his mouth seemed to be assaulting him. There had been more, but as they prepared for Marilyn's request, they slowly began removing him from everything.

  "My baby boy," Marilyn whispered kissing his forehead, and Dom quickly looked away.

  When Marilyn left the room, Dom approached his brother and looked him over. "I'm fuckin' sorry, man." He tried to break up the knot in his throat with a cough but there was no stopping the silent tears. "I failed you." His trembling hand wiped his running nose. "I told you I'd always protect you and I fucking couldn't." The words squeaked from his throat as he fought not to break down, but the tears won out and he laid his forehead to his brother's shoulder for the last time and cried.

  After giving him some time alone, Marilyn entered the room to see Dom sitting in the corner, tears now dried as he stared at the body in the hospital bed.

  "Nyla will be here in an hour and I'm going to have the machine turned off."

  Getting to his feet, he pulled his hat down farther. "I'll be at home."

  "Dominic." She grabbed his arm. "Please stay."

  "I don't want to be here when you kill him." His eyes flitted to Jeff.

  "Dom." The broken woman under a shield of armor surfaced and he quickly pulled her into a hug, not meaning the hurtful words.

  "I just can't be here for that. Please don't make me." He cried, holding her as if it were for her comfort.

  "A
t least stay and talk to Nyla, Dom." Pulling away, she wiped tears and looked into his face.

  Nyla knew what he did. Nyla knew Jeff was dead because of him. She was the last person he could face.

  "I can't, Mom." He kissed her cheek.

  With a sigh, she let his arms go, knowing he had to deal with the grief in his own way, even if she didn't understand it.

  "I love you."

  ***

  "… And as we lay to rest a young soul, a happy young man, a beloved son and brother, we ask God to accept him in his embrace." Those were the words Dom heard as he approached the cemetery after he refused to attend his brother's funeral.

  While he had sat in Jeff's room and the quiet house creaked and settled around him, he realized giving up on everything wouldn't free him from that life, the life he had hopes of saving his brother from. So he pulled on a button-up shirt -no tie because Jeff hated ties- and he buckled his belt around the waist of the slacks his mother had ironed a day prior hoping he'd come. Pushing his feet into the only pair of dress shoes he owned, he then cleaned the leather with a damp towel to rid the dust. Going back into Jeff's room, he tried to talk himself out of going. It was a finality he was pointlessly trying to avoid because nothing was bringing his brother back. Rolling his sleeves up his forearms, he saw the picture on Jeff's side table. The picture Nyla drew of the three of them was now framed and sat next to his bed. She'd been at the house but he'd probably slept through it. He hadn't heard her voice in almost two weeks. He'd seen her face every time he closed his eyes though, and the guilt it made him feel always consumed him.

  That framed picture was what made him walk out the front door, to the cemetery that far too many people he knew personally, had taken up permanent residence in.

  The large crowd around his brother's casket almost made him leave. There were dozens of people he didn't want to see, but there was one he had to. She was up front next to her father with a tissue pushed to her weary face that couldn't hide the tears that poured down her cheeks. Marilyn saw Dom and wanted to grab on to the only thing she had left, but she knew it wasn't her he needed at that moment. She halfheartedly smiled at her son before her eyes dropped down to the son she would never smile at again.