by H. Q. Frost
"I missed you, La," I tell her while I get closer to her face.
"I needed you, Dom." Her thumb drags up my jaw toward my ear. "If I weren't so stupid. If I didn't do what I did. None of that would have happened to you."
Answering 'You're probably right' more than likely won't get me where I'm trying to go tonight. And I don't blame Nyla. That was a part of my book that I don't think I could have changed. It would have happened somehow.
"This is book two, baby. I'm writing this sequel and it's going to go how I want it to this time."
She chuckles and her head throws back before she moves close again. "How's it going to go, Dom?" Her eyes flash from mine down to my lips so I take my chance and lean in.
Her lips are soft, full, and warm just like I remember, but we're barely touching so I push harder and when she opens her mouth to give me some tongue, she's ripped out of my arms.
"Son of a bitch!" I shout, pissed at the bumps in this fucking road!
I just want to kiss the woman and remind her why I may never be the man she needs, but I'll always be the man she wants.
As she's falling to the ground I try to grab her but I'm thrusted backward and into a table. There's a clusterfuck of women and Nyla's friends are ready to remove high heels and pull hair, until a group of men step up. This is going to be a war, me against four, and I don't want Nyla anywhere near it.
I don't know who these assholes are but they got beef with me so I step up.
"You don't take threats seriously, homie." He pulls a gun and aims it at me.
Second fucking time today I've had a gun on me.
"Put the fucking gun down."
The club is in chaos with screaming and fleeing patrons. He pushes the gun into my forehead and I hear Nyla whimper my name.
The guy at his side gets in my face and says, "You scared?" He cold-cocks me but I hold my stance, not giving in to the burn in my split, running lip.
"Tell your boy to get the fucking gun out of my face." My eyes are back on the asshole with the pistol pressed to my flesh.
Fear isn't present but anger is, and I'm more worried about that than being shot because I don't want to be arrested when it comes to this. A fist fight is one thing, a fight when there's guns involved will be legally worse for me, even if I don't have a weapon.
"Dom." Nyla moves to stand in front of me and before I can react, the gun is on her and I lose it.
I grab his wrist, not meaning to shove her, but if she gets shot, I'll go to prison for murder because this guy will die. She stumbles but I'd rather her hit the ground than take a bullet. While I'm holding his wrist, aiming the gun downward, I grab his throat, ready to kill because he's threatened the wrong fucking life. I'm staring him in the eyes, watching as the hue to his flesh starts to run red, not prepared when I get the butt of a gun slammed into my temple. I stumble losing my grip on the guy I was prepared to watch turn blue, and then someone grabs me, punching me again.
Cops are in the building but that's not who hit me. Their guns are drawn as they slowly approach us and the guys who came out of nowhere and attacked start to put their weapons on the floor.
I've already been shot from a cop. That'll probably be the one and only time I'll fear a gun being pointed at me. So when I'm told to get on the ground, I listen and lace my fingers behind my head. The voices of screaming women almost drown out the officer's orders, but after he cuffs me, he pulls me to stand and I know not to move until he makes me. My sight bounces person to person while I look for Nyla, but she's not around. The crew that attacked is in cuffs and I want a fucking explanation as to who they are. Knowing I'm not getting shit but arrested, I drop my head and exhale. The fact I've been drinking is going to get me in more trouble than if I were sober.
"Yes, him."
I look up and smile when I hear Nyla's voice. I haven't got shit to smile about right now, but I'm happy to see her before I get locked up.
"You have ID on you?" the officer holding my arm asks.
"In my wallet. Back pocket." I pivot and glance back while he grabs what he wants.
It takes a minute but there're a few people, including Nyla, talking to the cops and they're explaining how I'm not at fault and was attacked. A flashlight gets shined in my eyes and my running blood is being wiped before the cuffs are removed. I'm confused. My temple where I was pistol whipped is pounding. With no idea what's going on, I want to run before the cuffs are put back on.
I look over at Nyla as she grabs my wrist and rubs where the metal sat. "Are you okay?" She frowns up at me and I grin, tasting the blood that's still rolling from my mouth.
"It's gonna need stitches," the paramedic says but I start to shake my head.
"No. I'm good." Taking a step back, I ask, "I'm good. Am I free?" and look at the cop that had cuffed me.
"Go straight home. I don't think you need more trouble tonight. Sign here." He hands me something and I sign, not giving a shit what it says, I'm just happy I'm not getting arrested.
Nyla grabs my arm and starts walking me toward the door. I don't know what strings she pulled or how, but I owe her.
"I don't think you should drive out of here, Dom," she quietly tells me. "You've been drinking."
"I rode with a friend. I'll walk, I'm cool."
"Nyla!" her friends call her to the car they're waiting by.
"Hold on! Dom." She turns back to me. "Who were those guys?" The sadness on her face is screaming accusations I don't deserve.
"I was going to ask you. I assumed one of you girls knew them and I was in their territory."
"Not us!" she insists. "He knew who you were though."
First person that comes to mind is Brie and I grit my teeth.
"Probably mistook me for someone else," I mutter, not able to keep eye contact while I lie to her.
"Listen, we can give you a ride. We'll make room. Come on." Gripping my hand, she's pulling me with her.
It's Nyla, so of course I go.
"You coming to party with us?" Mandy's grin is loaded.
"Uh." I touch my bloody face. "I think I'm done partying tonight."
"We'll go back to Ny's." Her gaze burns into Nyla for a minute who doesn't object, and then they both slide into the Intrepid that already has a few girls in it.
"La, I can just walk home," I tell her quietly because we're crammed.
"Dom, get in the car," Mandy barks from the front seat, making me sigh and slide in.
Immediately I get Nyla shifted partially onto my lap. When her head drops to my shoulder because she's practically touching the roof of the car, I wrap my arms around her waist and try to position her so she's comfortable.
"I'm okay," she says into my neck. "Just don't want to deal with more cops tonight."
"I coulda found my own way home."
"But then you wouldn't be coming with us." Her head lifts and she smiles at me before a frown hits and she softly touches my lip.
"You should see the other guy." I smirk and listen to her chuckle while I absorb that I'd follow this girl to hell.
I stroll behind the car full of girls into an apartment building and upstairs, not really sure where we are or what the idea for the rest of the night is. When Nyla's the one to unlock the door, I almost stop, wondering if her husband will be here. The girls pile in and the noise starts so I'm assuming he's not, or they just don't give a shit. When I walk through the door, my hand is grabbed and I'm being pulled down a hall before I can look around their place. Nyla pulls me into a bathroom and closes the door.
"This brings back memories." She chuckles as she opens a drawer. "Sit on the toilet." She glances back at me and I sit, thinking about the memories she's talking about. "Remember that? The Netty pot?" she asks as she comes at me with a cotton ball then pauses.
"Yeah." I smirk. "I thought you were crazy. Do you still have Goliath?" I loved that cat even though she practically killed me every time I was around her.
"Yeah, she's at my mom's now though." She smiles. "Fat cat l
oves it there. This will be cold," she warns before softly rubbing it across my lip. "What was that about, Dom?" Her words are soft and encouraging. "You can tell me, you know I'm not going to judge you. Was it about a girl?"
"I think so," I mutter.
"Oh god." She laughs and keeps working on my face.
"She's just a girl that lives next door to a good friend. She's more trouble than it's worth"
"Well, Dom." She's back in the drawer, slamming shit now. "You can't fuck with girls' minds."
"That's not the case. I'm not fucking with—"
"Burn," she says after placing something to my lip and I grit my teeth.
"This girl's a troublemaker is all."
"You can't just have sex with whoever you want and not expect repercussions when you start ignoring them." She's coming at me with a Band-Aid for my face and I stop her.
"Whoa, what? This turned into something completely out of context. I'm not sleeping with that girl. I never have. And I don't need a Band-Aid."
"You need a Band-Aid," she says, trying to move around my hands.
"I'll be alright." I stand. "I'm always alright, La."
Her arms drop heavy and she lowers her head, starting to chuckle. "I miss you," she says through her laughing, and as she wipes under her eyes, I realize she's crying.
"La." I grab her wrists and pull them away from her face when she tries to hide it. "Don't." Lifting her chin, I see her eyes swimming.
"I'm drunk," she laughs and tries to pull away but I pull her against my chest and wrap my arms around her.
Words are failing me because anything I want to say would have to be followed up with 'If you weren't married'. I'll do anything she wants me to, but offering that is a dangerous line. She's drunk tonight, so any of the grinding, touching, kissing, or longing stares can be chalked up to that in the morning. At least on her end, and I don't want to be her drunken mistake so I'll let her do this at her own pace. Though, I won't stop trying or proving it's me that belongs inside her, next to her, or there for her.
"Does it feel like our seven year gap apart was sewn together tonight?"
My mouth opens but I don't respond immediately. "You mean like we can start again where we left off? I'm not that kid anymore, but that's what you needed from me."
"I just needed you, Dom," she insists while her grip around me tightens. "I screwed up our lives so bad."
"Hey." I slide my fingers into her hair and move her head to look up at me. "You didn't screw up anything. I'm ready to start over whenever you are."
The tears are gone but her eyes look like glass right now, and I hate the pain in my chest that's telling me she might be drunk enough she won't remember any of this. This is one side of Nyla I never really knew. We'd been drunk together maybe twice.
Her fingers wrap over my shoulders and she lifts to her toes, her mouth aiming for mine.
"Hey!" A loud pounding on the door makes Nyla jump and fall away from me. "Are you fucking yet?" the voice yells obnoxiously. "Didn't think so. Get out here and drink with me!" Mandy calls.
"God." Nyla chuckles wiping her face. "She's annoying when she's drunk."
I don't think that's the only time.
"You'll hang out for a little while?" she asks, grabbing my hand and turning for the door knob.
"Uh, sure." I've got an early morning, but not worth mentioning.
"Do you work tomorrow?"
"No. I'm off."
"Where do you work?" she asks as she pulls open the door.
Mandy grabs her and inspects her face. "You didn't even fucking kiss yet? Pathetic," she grumbles and starts pulling her away.
"Go get us shots." Nyla shoves her away and when Mandy stumbles ahead, she turns back to me. "Dom?"
"Hmm?" I ask as I look around the apartment.
"Where do you work?"
"My mom's boyfriend's brother owns a lawn care service."
"Oh, Durante." She whips around and stares up at me; her smile's gone.
"Yeah. You familiar?"
"They used to service my lawn before I moved here." Her back is to me again and she's pulling me to the kitchen.
"Where you working, La?" I ask while she goes through cupboards.
"Uh." She pulls pretzels out of the cupboard then looks up at me and says, "I work at the community center. Closest thing I got to helping kids." The shrug of disappointment looks like shit on her, but before I can grab her and tend to the useless bruises to her ego, Mandy's between us.
"I called Robin over."
"Mandy," Nyla groans. "Why?" She shoves her out of the way then pours the pretzels into a bowl.
"Stop complaining." Taking a handful of pretzels, she walks away.
"La—"
I want to talk about her job but she grabs her phone from the counter and interrupts me by saying, "I'll be right back," then storms away.
I should have went home, and I want to leave, but with Nyla. I wonder if she'd let me walk her to the local diner like the first night I met her 'cause I stalked her. I subtly shake my head as I think about how we met. Arms thrown around me from behind ruin the memory I'm not sure I should be grateful for.
"I love you, Dom!" some girl squeals and I laugh, turning around to face her.
"I think your shirt's all bloody." She gasps and at least I can blame it on my split lip.
"And ripped," Mandy says from behind me, then I feel her finger in the hole at the collar of my shirt, unsure when that happened. "Oops," she says as she rips it more.
Unsure what the fuck she's doing, I whip around and glare at the crazy broad.
"You're a wreck, take the shirt off and I'll see if Ny has something for you."
"I'm fine," I grumble, and before I can dodge away from these girls, two more box me in.
"That guy hit you so hard." Another girl is reaching for my face but I yank back.
"Yeah, kinda hurts." I chuckle to be nice but I'm about to lose it.
I need the fuck out of here. These hyenas are going after me like I'm a carcass already.
"Oh no," a voice says.
First there's the tug, then comes the noise as my shirt rips more when they attack, sounding like a pack as they laugh.
"We just want you out of your shirt," Mandy says with that evil glare. "We won't stop bothering you until you are."
I'm being bullied by a group of women and every time I move, they do to keep me boxed in.
"I gotta go," I say as I push through the group.
My shirt is grabbed and that yank not only chokes me but successfully rips it enough that there's no fucking point to wearing the damn thing.
"Fuck!" I scream, losing it. "You bitches are fucking crazy!"
And I'm fucking sick of crazy tonight!
I pull my shirt off and throw it at Mandy's face while the other girls howl like this is some sort of strip show. I turn for the door but they're following me like puppies, grabbing on, begging me to stay. The last thing I want to do is leave without seeing Nyla, but this shit ain't worth it.
"Look at that body!"
"Mmm, those muscles." Someone's hands rubs down my back and I can't get away fast enough.
"Prison bod," Mandy says and that's all I can take.
"Dom!" Nyla blurts as I yank open the door, and suddenly the girls start backing off. "Where's your shirt? Where're you going?" She rushes me and her eyes drop from mine, to my chest, to the bullet hole scar.
"I gotta go, La." I quickly kiss her forehead. "My shirt's in your kitchen shredded by these crazy bitches. Night." Anger has my heart pounding and I need away from her friends.
"Dom." She steps in the hallway and slams her door closed behind us. "What happened?" Her grip wraps around my wrist, trying to hold me from leaving.
"Your friends are savages, La. Fuck." I rub at my face stressed out, because after today, those bitches are not what I needed.
"I'm sorry. Don't leave." She's desperate for me to stay but I can't with them girls around.
Harassment
like that is shit I can't tolerate.
"When you're alone, we can chill."
Desperation is on her face and I don't want to leave her but I can't handle her pack anymore.
"I'll make them leave," she cautiously says as her eyes drop to the scar on my chest again, then drifts to the scar from when I was sliced open in prison. "Don't leave." She steps closer and looks into my face.
The hesitance in her voice concerns me that alcohol is making the request. My buzz was lost the second the shit went down at the club and I can no longer consciously encourage something she'll regret.
"La, we can hang whenever you want. When you're sober. It doesn't have to be tonight."
"I don't want you to leave." Her voice is confident and louder, sounding less like alcohol talking.
Those brown eyes with green flecks are back on my scars. As she reaches out to touch them, the door downstairs opens and makes her jump, taking a step back.
"Look who it is," a redheaded man says as he climbs the stairs.
"Just in time," Nyla says with an annoyed smirk. "You can get Mandy and the rest of them the hell out of here." While she's talking to him, he's staring at me.
"Robin." His hand is waiting for mine as he eyes me. "Oh wait." He turns to Nyla. "Is this some stripper shit?"
"No, Robin! Just go get Mandy and leave!"
"I came to party." He chuckles and looks at me again. "So, no-shirt, if you're not a stripper, what's your name and where's your shirt?"
"Dominic." I grab his waiting hand, clutching tightly before pulling away.
"Dominic," he repeats and turns for the door. "I'm going to guess your shirt's inside? Unless you don't own one."
"Just go, Robin." Nyla shoves him toward the door.
As he laughs he says, "Brad still out of town? He know you got a shirtless guy here?"
"Robin," she snaps then sighs and he laughs harder, going inside. "God, I'm sorry. The best part of tonight was running into you… and then." She gestures to the door and huffs. "This." When squealing from the girls inside start, she grabs my hand. "Let's go for a walk."
I'm being pulled down the stairs and the second we step outside, my hard nipples remind me I'm shirtless.