by H. Q. Frost
"Oh fuck no," I pant. "No, no, please no," whimpers from me as my head hits the pavement and I close my eyes just listening to her screams.
I killed one of her sons. What the fuck did I do?
~~*~~
"I told you everything that fucking happened!" My hands slam to the table and I stand, starting to pace.
Six times. I've told them the same story six times and nothing changes because it's all the truth. Why I was there. How I know her and her kids. Why I thought she might be in some sort of trouble. It's not a quick recap either, they want details of everything. They are the police.
Everything was under control. I had no involvement until I made myself involved, and from there, protecting me was out of Brad Hancock's hands.
I'd rather do it this way. Or so I thought. But I'm a mess, physically feeling ill, and just want the talking and noise to stop. I got her little boy killed and I'll never forgive myself. I don't know if it was Zander or Jamari. I know no details except they want every encounter I had with Iesha.
"She's running a trap house." The officer stands and my pacing halts.
No she wasn't.
"No she wasn't," I repeat my thought aloud. "I've been to that house at least a dozen times."
"And that house has been on our radar years longer than that. And after getting some surveillance we see you coming and going a few times."
"I was there as a friend."
That explains why they made me take a piss test.
"After review, we believe you. We've been in contact with Warden Abigail Pires and she vouched your relationship with Rupert Hayes. I think you got in over your head because of a woman. And a woman you didn't know."
"That's not the case," I interrupt in a mutter. "I cared about her boys. I was taking care of a dead man's dying wish. Taking care of his boys any way I could. Me and their mom didn't have a relationship like you're getting at."
"My advice, try a dating website next time." He walks to the door and the woman in the room collects her notepad.
'Fuck you' is right at the tip of my tongue and I almost bite it off, but keep my mouth shut.
"That's it? I'm free?"
"You were always free, we just needed any more information you had to help indict Iesha Fares. Her and her boyfriend aren't the people you thought they were, and Rupert set you up."
"He was a friend," I mumble, adding stupidity to my list of nauseating feelings.
"He was a scam artist and a drug dealer. Him and his brother Andre. You're not the first victim, and be glad your drug test came back clean."
"I don't fucking do drugs," I growl. Guilt stomps down anger again. "What about her son? She's going to be arrested after her son just died?"
"The world doesn't stop turning because you put your children in danger, Mr. Sestak. My advice, know who you're dealing with before you invest so much money and heart."
With my head down and heart shattered, I walk out of this room not really sure what the hell to do now. I got a child killed. Thinking I was doing the right thing, getting someone help, I got a boy killed. My vision's getting blurry as tears leak, but I keep my head down. I just need to get outside before I have a breakdown.
"Dom!" Nyla's voice comes from behind me and I almost don't stop my path out the door.
Without turning around, I wait; her hand grabs mine before she's standing in front of me.
"I heard what happened."
Words won't come out around the lump in my throat so I don't bother saying anything. I wipe at the slipping tears, not wanting her to see me crying.
"Nyla," a man's voice calls her name, and thinking it's her husband, I need out of here.
"Gotta go, La," I manage through the strain and walk out the door.
First car in the lot I see is Rory's Porsche, and as much as I'd like a ride right now, I'm not going back in there.
"Dominic!" Nyla shouts and I hear heels running up behind me.
"I've got nothing to say right now," I tell her when she steps in front of me.
I don't. Especially not to her or her husband. This is some shit I've got to process, and her fake sympathy or whatever she's doing right now is the last thing I need to deal with.
"Well I do," she snaps. "What the hell happened there? How are you involved in this?"
"Didn't you get the rundown from Brad?" Stepping around her, I'm headed in the wrong direction but I need to walk away.
"No. I didn't. Why are you walking away from me?" She grabs my arm and yanks me to face her. "Dom, I'm only here for you and you're walking away from me."
"For what, Nyla? To check another fuck-up of mine off the list? I got a little kid killed tonight! I don't want to answer to you and explain my bad decisions to you!"
"I've never done that!" She's standing in front of me again, blocking my path.
"You wrote me a note seven years ago and pretty much let me know what you thought of me. I still have the fucking thing. You want a refresher? Loves cruel, you're crueler. I deserve a better ending."
"Dom." Her hands land on my chest and she stops me from walking around her. "I was young. We were young. I was scared and thought I'd be better off not knowing you than waiting for you to die. I thought you were fucking dead that night," she snaps with a stamp of her foot. "My entire world imploded."
"You left me. You walked away like I was nothing to you. Twice, Nyla." With a shake of my head, I turn around. "I don't have energy to deal with this tonight."
"Where are you walking to, Dom? Rory, your mom, and her boyfriend are in that police station waiting for you. I was too. And now you're just walking away."
"You're familiar with the action," I call back to her, then huff and close my eyes when I stop walking.
My fear, regret, and sadness has turned to anger and I'm taking it out on her.
"Nyla, what do you want?" I turn around and she's just standing there, staring after me.
"Let me at least drive you somewhere. I know what's on your brain tonight and I don't think being alone is good for you."
I snort and almost open my mouth to say something shitty again, but I close it.
"Let's get coffee, or a beer. Let's talk."
I take a few steps toward her and she grabs my arm, escorting us to her car. The second I slide into the seat I think about what started in this car and my dick suddenly isn't attached to the guilt I'm feeling toward my life right now. I clear my throat and quickly adjust before she gets in.
While we sit across from each other in a small diner, I can't think straight enough to start a conversation, so I stare at the coffee in my cup.
"How'd you know the little boy?" she softly asks.
"When I was locked up the guy I bunked with. It was his son. He has two. I don't even know which one was shot." I rub my eyes then look into her face.
"The car you were driving, when I saw you again. Was that her car? With the decal of the family in the window?"
"Yeah, her neighbor's. It wasn't mine. I don't have a family." I rub my face and huff. "I really fucked up, La."
"How did you fuck up? Why are you taking blame for this?"
With an exhale I sit back then explain, not excluding how I still don't know if it was Brie or Iesha setting me up.
"You tell the cops all that?" she asks and I nod, finishing my second cup of coffee. "This isn't your fault. You have to realize that. You did what was right, trying to get help for a friend." Her eyes drop to the table as she says, "Even though she doesn't seem like much of a friend. You know that, right? That it was probably her. I'm not saying the other girl wasn't involved somehow, but everything you explained about that Iesha woman, she sounds shady, Dom."
"Whether or not her intentions were shit, it wasn't that little boy's fault, and if I hadn't made the call, he'd be alive still."
"You did the right thing."
"Getting someone killed is never the right thing, La." I signal for the check. "I need to get home."
"Can we make a stop?" she asks w
hen we get in her car.
"It's your car." I lay my head back and close my eyes, but an image of Zander's and Jamari's smiles invade my thoughts and I pop them back open.
On the verge of just asking her to take me home, she reaches over and takes my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. I expect her to pull away but she clasps my hand firmly and starts driving out of the city.
"La, where we going?" I ask after fifty minutes of silent driving.
"Home," she mutters, keeping her eyes on the dark road.
Home? Back to our hood? Why the hell are we going there? I don't bother voicing my questions because having her in my company and on a quiet ride is calming.
She pulls in front of her dad's house and I see there are new tenants.
"Did your dad still live here?" I ask.
"No. He moved a few years ago. Not far though. Just to a nicer block."
My eyes land on the neighbor's lawn where Jeff was gunned down. Then I look over my shoulder toward my mom's ex-boyfriend's place where I shot the guy as he relaxed in a recliner, smug like the dipshit he was. In between two horrible memories sits the best memories of my life. Nyla's house where we would rush to have sex before her dad was off work. Or the nights she'd sneak me in through her window while he was asleep. The evenings I sat down and ate dinner with them and we were close as family.
She obviously doesn't have anything to say because she drives off and keeps her hands tight on the wheel and eyes straight.
"La," I mumble when she pulls into what's now a junkyard. It used to be the entrance into the woods that led to the hill. "What're we doing?"
"We can hop the wall." She points, and beyond that wall was the path to the hill.
"It's probably not there anymore. This yard is newer."
"It's there. Trust me." She gets out and I'm left with no choice.
"You're in heels," I mention before she opens the back door.
She replaces black heels with slip-on shoes then pulls me around the junkyard fence that's chained and under surveillance.
"Nyla, this is trespassing."
"We're not going in the yard. We're going around it."
The woods at the back of the junkyard wall are thick, no longer supporting a path to the hill.
"Come on," I grab her hand, trying to pull her back toward the car but she yanks it free and moves forward.
I huff and catch up, grabbing her hand while she wobbles over the terrain that's hidden in the dark.
"Hold on." I pull my phone out and use the flashlight, letting her guide us through.
As we make it out of the dense woods, there sits the hill, the same as I remember it. Every single day for months I would wish I made it to this hill that night. I would have been safe if I had just made it to the hill.
"You've been here recently," I state as she pulls me to the top.
"The night of my dad's funeral. I got lost in the woods." She chuckles. "I almost called you but." Her shoulders shrug and I catch up to be at her side.
"But what?"
"I'm not necessarily a chapter you need written in your book right now. The things I'm involved in, I just don't want to see you end up back in prison because of me. You deserve better."
When we get to the top of the hill I tell her, "Don't worry what I deserve, Nyla," and pull her against me before kissing her without warning.
It's a few seconds before she pushes against me and kisses me back, harder, and it's a kiss that can make me momentarily forget about today. When I pull away, I sit down and look around, vividly remembering partying here. Hanging with Jeff here. Making love to Nyla here. As seedy as my youth was, it was always real and done my way. I was never trying to live up to someone else's expectations because my own were enough.
She pulls me back and we stare into the sky. You don't get these stars in Seattle and I haven't appreciated the vast blackness with fireballs in years. I used to think the view lacked adventure, but living in the city, I appreciate this now.
"Thanks for bringing me here," quietly slips from my mouth.
There's no response but she grabs my hand and clasps our fingers. If I could process much more tonight I'd probably try getting closer to her, deep inside her, but I know tonight it's not what I need. I need to quietly exist.
The ride back to Seattle is calm even though she's got something on her mind, and what's on mine is beating the shit out of my brain. All these questions I have for Nyla go unasked because I just need to close my eyes and shut off the bullshit from the day.
"Text me if you can't sleep," she says as she pulls into my driveway.
"Thanks, La." I lean over just to kiss her cheek but she meets my lips and kisses me softly.
"Night," she whispers against my mouth and I fight my dick, quickly getting out of the car.
I text Rory to make sure he got the truck I abandoned when I was taken in, then I get in bed and stare at the ceiling until I fall asleep. Only a couple hours before my alarm goes off.
~~*~~
"Where you at?" I ask CJ while looking around the dark shop.
"What're you talking about?" he says over the phone.
"We got a run!" I snap, still unable to shake the anger and sadness even two days later.
I've been lashing out and shutting down sporadically, so I've been avoiding people. But we have a job tonight and I want to get it done and get back in bed.
"Not me. I didn't get a call," he says.
"What the hell." I snatch the keys for the truck and hang up with him to call Rory.
When he doesn't answer, I start bitching because as far as I know, I don't have a ride back. I'm supposed to drop the truck and usually CJ is the ride back.
I get past the gate and look for Nyla's car because maybe she can be my ride, but there are a couple cars here and none look like hers.
"Pull it in." A man I haven't dealt with gestures me into the dark garage. "Kill the engine," he calls to me over the rumbling bouncing off the walls of the small garage. "Get out slowly," he says and I sigh, pissed they never turn on the fucking lights. When I get out, he pats me down. "Wait here." He pushes a button and the garage door starts to close but he walks to the door of the house and light pours in, until he goes inside and closes it.
I'm left in the pitch black and I lean against the truck so nothing can come from behind. I really need a gun. Although, I think if I were attacked right now, I'd barely fight.
I prove myself wrong when I hear footsteps. No doors opened to shed light to someone entering, but I'm not alone. I pat my pockets, realizing I left my phone in the truck so I move quickly for light when I should just be preparing to fight.
"Dom," Nyla's voice says and I pause.
"La, what the fuck?" I snap. "What're you—" My words are cut off by her mouth messily seeking out mine. "Nyla," I say before she gets her tongue past my lips.
In seconds she's kissing me and stroking my dick that's reacting quickly, making me groan.
"Nyla, what the fuck?" I pant when she pulls away but keeps stroking me.
"Keep quiet," she whispers sliding down my chest and unzipping my pants. "I think about you all the time. You're like a slow burn, Dom," she says before freeing my cock.
"What?" I ask but her mouth latches onto my dick and I drop my head back to the truck. "Oh, shit," I groan and grab her head, feeling it bob as she sucks; it's going to make me come in seconds. "Nyla baby, let me fuck you," I beg because I'd rather be inside her for a connection I'm dying for.
"Mm-mm," she mumbles around my cock and keeps bobbing and sucking.
One of her ringlets wraps around my finger and I'm done for.
"I'm going to come," I warn but she doesn't detach and sucks everything she can from me. While I come in her mouth, I beg her to stay.
Sliding back up my body, she kisses me, guiding my hand down her panties and between her drenched thighs. She moans as I slide over her clit and her forehead drops to my shoulder. Spinning, I slam her against the truck and shove a finger inside h
er as I hold her pinned by her shoulder.
"Why are you doing this to me?" I growl, pumping my hand, adding another finger in her tight pussy.
"Because you've always fucked me right," she moans and latches onto my wrist as her back bows and she pushes my fingers deeper inside her.
"You can't do this to me." It came out in a begging tone I didn't mean for but every time I get this close to her I know she's just going to push me away because she's married. "I fucking love you, La," my words whimper out before I kiss her and her pussy clenches around my fingers as she comes.
"Dom," she gasps, yanking away from my mouth to suck in air while her thighs vibrate.
I softly rub around the slick mess while she catches her breath, holding onto me for support.
"Dom," she whispers and her breath touches my lips.
I turn my head enough to connect our lips and she grabs on tighter.
"Leave him, La," I say when I pull my mouth away.
A bright light flashes in my eyes and my ear pings when her hand connects with it and my cheek.
"What the fuck, Nyla!" I scream at her, backing away.
"God," she grunts. "Every time I want to give in, you remind me why we don't belong together," she shouts and her voice is getting distant as she storms away.
The light from inside the house floods the garage when she yanks open the door.
"I'm not a whore! I'm fucking divorced, you asshole." The door slams leaving me in the dark again and I groan, rubbing my cheek that doesn't burn as much as what she just told me.
I am such a dick. I should have known she would never cheat.
Before I can go looking for her, the door opens again and the same guy that patted me down steps into the garage.
"The boss said drive you back to your vehicle." He hits a button and the garage door opens.
"Where is she?" I ask and wiggle my finger in my still ringing ear.
"Couldn't tell you. Let's go." He gestures me out of the garage and I notice his hand is on his gun so I follow without refusal.
I'm not surprised when she doesn't answer my calls, so I send her an apology text that begs for forgiveness. When I pull up to my house, Brie's car is there and I groan, having forgotten about her. But I won't forget that stick figure family in the window.