What Breaks a Man?: Sensible Hearts Part 2

by H. Q. Frost

  "Fuck." I huff and get out of my truck but don't go in the house.

  I start walking.

  I didn't have these kinds of issues half a year ago. My list of issues was a whole different book. So far I've only written shit in my life.

  I make it to my mom's and sit on the front porch, trying to catch my breath because my walk turned into a run three miles back. I don't know why I'm here. Because it's familiar, because my mom is home, because all I really want is to see my brother and escape the mess like he sometimes would help me do when I was a kid. Jeff didn't have haunts. There was only once I can remember seeing him really bothered by something, and that was after Kaitlyn killed herself. I used to feel sorry for him that he didn't seem to feel much, but right now, I'm envying him.

  I'm not a good guy or a hero. I'm a prick asshole stuck in too many emotions that I don't want to feel anymore so I do what I know. Walking away from my mom's, I head straight to the bar and drink enough that starting a fight is easy. The first guy to treat his girlfriend like shit, I pick him.

  Before he got a few drinks in him he was respectful toward her. Add alcohol and a conversation about who him and his buddies would like to smash, and you get this.

  "No-one wants to fuck you." He laughs at her.

  "Hank, stop," she quietly tells him.

  "My dick shrivels when I see you, Linda." His friend laughs and they high five.

  She's taking it, just sitting there and taking it, but I can't anymore.

  "I fucked your girl," I slur in his face and he stands.

  "What'd you just say?"

  I almost feel bad for the girl I'm using as a pawn.

  "I fucked her." I glance toward the confused girl that's never seen me a day in her life.

  He swings and I duck, getting him in the gut. When his buddy jumps on me, I meet the ground but he shoves his buddy away and swings again, getting me in the jaw. We get a few hits in before we're yanked apart and being dragged outside. The collar of my shirt chokes me as whoever's kicking us out uses my clothes as a leash. The second we're outside we're both shoved to the cement and I rub my throat.

  The guy jumps on me again and I flip him to his back, knocking the wind out of him and punch him in the throat before stumbling away. That call of sirens is my cue and I start shoving my way through the crowd that followed us outside. My jog makes my vision blur and before I know it, I'm nose-diving into a bush.

  "Fuck," I groan, not sure if it's the alcohol or the few hits to the head.

  Whatever it is, I stay right where I am and pass out. Regret comes when I open my eyes. It's still dark out though so I jump up, stumbling, then grab my cellphone and see it's almost four in the morning.

  "Aw, fuck," I hoarsely say and grab my throat, desperate for water.

  When I stumble across my lawn, all I can think about is my bed, until I walk through the front door.

  "Dom." Brie rushes me but my eyes land on Nyla sitting in my favorite chair.

  "Where the fuck you been, kid?" Rory screams at me.

  "Dude." CJ shakes his head then wanders away.

  "What the hell's going on?" I back away from Brie and look at Nyla who looks sick. "La." I walk around Brie toward her but she stands and backs away.

  "Don't." When she wipes her face I see she's not sick, she was crying.

  "What the fuck is going on?" I bark and turn toward Rory.

  "We thought you were dead, kid," he mutters. "You didn't show up after your…" He glances toward Brie. "After work and your truck was here."

  "Why the fuck would I be dead?" I shout. "No-one thought to call me?"

  "We all fucking called, Dom," Rory grumbles.

  I yank my phone from my pocket to debunk their lie, but it's not. I have tons of texts too.

  "And you know the issues we've been having." He storms toward me and grabs my shirt, anger boiling in his red face. "Liquor," he says, probably smelling it on my breath. "I thought I was gonna have to tell your mom you were gone. What the fuck is wrong with you?" He shoves me back a step.

  "Man, don't worry about me. I can take care of me. I'm always alright!" I yell at him and head for the kitchen then hear the front door slam.

  "Rory had another scare earlier today and we thought whoever's been trying to scare him, got to you, Dom," Nyla's calm voice is getting closer and after I drink down a glass of water, I turn around wearing a scowl until I see the concern and signs she was crying.

  "La." I touch her face and she pulls away.

  "But I see you were just at a bar starting more fights… just being you. Your girlfriend was really worried," she says and heads for the door.

  "Nyla," I call but she keeps going.

  "Dom, you alright? Where were you?" Brie asks, pulling a twig from my hair.

  "In a bush," I answer and dodge around her.

  When I pull open the door, Nyla's getting in a car with someone else driving and they're gone.

  "In a bush?" Brie repeats.

  "I'm tired." I look down at her confused face. "Why are you here?"

  "I thought you might want to know what's going on with Iesha."

  "God." I huff and sit, rubbing my sore and tired face. "Not really."

  "I'll go then." She grabs her purse and I grab her arm.

  "No. Brie. Let's talk. You know what's going on?" Letting her go, I walk toward my bedroom and she follows.

  "What happened? Why were they all so freaked out you might be dead?"

  Closing the door, I pull off my shirt. "Brienna." I look at her as she stares at me in confusion. "I don't want to have sex with you."

  Her eyebrows raise and she grips the strap of her purse.

  "Can you just… lay with me and tell me what you know?" I look back at my bed and her brows scrunch. "I just need someone tonight," I pathetically admit and she turns around.

  Instead of leaving like I thought she would, she flips off the lights. I pull my shoes off and strip off my jeans before grabbing a pair of sweats then get into bed. The bed dips next to me and I pull the covers back for her. Her cold feet touch mine but I don't pull away because I'm too tired, too drunk, in too much pain both physically and mentally. Warm flesh pushes against my chest and I realize she's naked.

  "Brie." Her fingers cover my lips before I can tell her again I don't want to sleep with her.

  "Just close your eyes," she whispers and wraps her arms around me in an embrace that fulfills the comfort I need. She doesn't push for anything, just holds me, and though she's not whose arms I want to be in, they're working right now. "The boys' grandma will get custody of Jamari. Zander's still in critical condition," she whispers.

  "He's not dead?"

  "No." She pushes her fingers to my lips so I stop talking. "Iesha's going away and thanks to you, another piece of shit won't be creepin' our neighborhood no more. I don't know who the guy was but he was someone the cops were lookin' for. Now he's going to prison for murder and whatever charges they got on him."

  "Who'd he kill?"

  "A cop, and he's the one that shot Zander."

  My tired, drunk eyes are drowning in tears but I don't let her hear it in my voice. "I didn't mean for this shit."

  She sniffles and I feel her wipe her nose. "You know I'm not the one that stole your shit, right?"

  "I don't even care anymore." I close my eyes and let the tears fall down the sides of my face before I pass out.

  ~~*~~

  My alarm screams as it witnesses my awkward situation. And then I realize it's just waking me up for work two and half hours after I laid down.

  I scoot away from Brie, trying not to look at her naked body, definitely trying to convince myself my morning wood has nothing to do with the naked body.

  Getting out of bed, I clear my throat. "Brienna, get up."

  I ate a whole fucking pot of pity soup and spiked it with alcohol last night and now it's gotten me in this situation.

  "Fuck." I huff and rub my sore face from taking probably a worse beating than I delivere
d. "Brie, I fucked up." I look at her as she pulls the blanket up to her neck. "I should have never asked you to stay."

  She gets out of my bed, leaving the blankets behind and I quickly turn my head, tightly closing my eyes as my dick reaches for her. I'm not scared, I don't think this will make the situation go away, I just want to kick my ass for getting in this position.

  "But I'm here." Her fingertips circle my bellybutton and start sliding to the band of my sweats, but I grab her wrist.

  Her other hand grabs the steel rod jutting the front of my sweats out and I bend, not prepared for that contact.

  "Brie, don't." I grab her other wrist.

  "You don't want it?" She starts stroking and I hold her wrist tighter. "Let me make you feel better, Dom." She drops to her knees and I let her wrists go, taking a step back.

  "You gotta go." My hand is on the doorknob but I don't open it. She's naked and a small part doesn't want to make her, but now that I know Nyla's not married, that's my focus.

  "You're going to turn down a blow job?" She chuckles at me, staring at me like I'm insane. "You're not attracted to me?" Her fingertips circle around her pierced nipple.

  "You're beautiful, but not what I'm looking for. Get your clothes on." I slip out of the bedroom and close the door then lean against the wall a minute.

  "Fuck you doing?" CJ asks and I jump before heading for the bathroom.

  In the shower, I grip my cock like it's done something wrong. This won't make me come so I ease up and close my eyes until the vision of Nyla and Brie naked invades and they quickly pop open.

  "Fuck." I pant, feeling guilty for my fantasies.

  But fuck if that won't get me off in two minutes. So I close my eyes and push the guilt away until later.

  ~~*~~

  "I want to talk to you." Rory gestures to the chair across from him and I sit. "You got a problem."

  "What the fuck." I huff and slap my knees. "I'm fucking twenty-five. I can go to a bar."

  "You weren't at the bar as a twenty-five year old fuck, Dom. You're carrying around guilt for what happened to that kid. He might pull through!"

  "Why's everyone but me know he didn't die? No-one thought to tell me this five days ago?"

  "Dom, we haven't seen you in a few days. You're depressed and if you're not at the bar, you're in bed. Now, because of your face that was just healing from the last fight you were in, I can't work you again."

  "I was attacked last time," I defend myself.

  "Dom, what the fuck do you want me to do with you when you look like this?" he screams and all the chatter in the shop stops, indicating the guys are listening.

  I stand and slam the door closed. "You want to fire me, Rory?"

  "Don't be stupid."

  "Then let me work. I do lawn work, not walk a runway." I sit back down, tired of telling him this.

  "You make the company look bad beat up like this. I'm not saying the last few times were your fault, but since I've known you, you've been in three or four fights."

  "Not always my fault," I mumble and lean my head back while I close my eyes.

  "Regardless—"

  "Did you figure out your problem, Rory? Because that's the reason my face has looked fucked the past few times. You figure out who's been fucking with you and trying to kill us?"

  "Not yet."

  "Did you call Nyla last night? Is that why she was at my house?

  "Yeah, I did. And I laid into her, accusing her and her men, but then she fucking showed up to your place in tears and I knew it's not her behind this shit. I thought she was trying to weed me out and doing that by scaring me. I don't think that's the case anymore, but I also realized something else." He leans back against his desk in front of me and crosses ankle over ankle. "You know her."

  'We can't know each other, Dom. You shouldn't even be doing this but if they know we know each other, they're going to think you have more involvement than you do.'

  "Who?" I snicker and scowl at him.

  "Nyla Wood. How do you know her?" His narrowed eyes are glaring at me as if it's against the law I fucking know her.

  "I don't know her. I met her the night you brought me to that fucking mansion." I stand. "Am I off today then?"

  "Go home," he snaps. "Unpaid."

  "Fucking bullshit," I bitch as I walk out, not bothering to look at any of the other guys as they stare at me.

  I head home and get in bed, smelling Brie and groan, immediately stripping my sheets and pillow cases.

  Nyla's phone rings until voicemail.

  "La, that girl is not my girlfriend. She's not even really a friend. That's the Brie girl I was telling you about. I'm sorry, La. I told Rory today we don't know each other. I didn't know what to tell him because he was suspicious like I can't know you. Please fill me in here. What is going on with all this shit? Talk to me, La."

  I can't sit around today so I call Tony, asking if we can work on the car.

  "Your mom will be glad to see you. Even looking like that." He glances at my face but I ignore him and grab the socket I need. "What's going on with you, Dom? You need some kind of help?"

  "What the fuck!" I slam the ratchet. "Why's everyone keep saying that?"

  "Because you're either beat up or at the police station!" he gets loud and gestures to my face. "We're worried!"

  "Don't be! You're all forgetting that I was in two car accidents and I was attacked the other time you remember me bruised. I got into a fucking fight, so what?"

  "Dom, you're on probation. It's not so-what. The smallest thing will get you put right back, son."

  "Right now, I think I'm better off locked up." I storm into the house just needing a few minutes.

  NYLA: Come over tonight around 7 for dinner

  I stare at the only picture I have of us then push my phone away and head back to the garage, immediately feeling calmed by her text.

  "Come in." She steps to the side and I enter her apartment, handing over a bunched group of hydrangeas I cut from my mom's bush.

  In my defense, I went looking for a hydrangea bouquet, but there were none and they're her favorite flower. I'm trying to score some points here. The only time I feel normal is with Nyla. This is what I need.

  "Beautiful. Thank you." She smiles and smells the bunch.

  I follow her to the kitchen but can't keep my eyes off the purple dress that looks painted on. Her soft flesh against that color is an eye magnet and I'm having a hard time looking away.

  "I figured this is a date."

  "Oh did you?" She chuckles and glances back at me. "What's your girlfriend think about that?"

  I huff. "She's not my girlfriend. I told you who she is. La, don't push me away when this is the perfect chance for us to write this book again."

  She stares at me a minute then turns to the sink and starts to fill the vase with water. The look on her face seemed to be agreement, but I don't know anymore.

  "What're we making?" I look at the ingredients spread across the kitchen counter then back at her ass in that dress.

  "Spaghetti," she says pulling milk from the refrigerator.

  "You don't like spaghetti," I reply and drift my gaze down to her bare feet showing her toes match the dress.

  I'm dying to know if she wore this to work today or if she dressed for me. I can easily express how much I like it because the proof is in my pants, but I think anything she wears would get the same reaction from me.

  "You do though." She smirks at me. "And here's where we compromise." She wiggles the milk.

  "I'll follow your lead." I gesture to the food and step back so I can get the back view again. "La, you look great."

  Her hand slides over her stomach as she smiles back at me. "Thanks."

  "Thanks for having me over. Can I give you money for the groceries?" I wince at the tacky offer.

  She chuckles as she starts cutting. "We have a lot to talk about, Dom. And I know you don't like tomatoes but I'm going to leave the chunks big enough you can pick them out, okay?"


  "Sure." Watching over her shoulder, I'm flinching every time she lowers the knife. "Can I show you something?"

  She looks over her shoulder until I step up and press against her back.

  "Dom," she breathes when she feels me hard against the curve of her back.

  "That's not what I wanted to show you." I chuckle and kiss her cheek before sliding the knife from her hand. "Watch my hand." Curling my fingers, I hold the tomato. "Make a bear claw, and you can chop faster without worrying about losing a finger."

  "You've been doing a lot of cooking lately?"

  "I was working the kitchen in-house for awhile. I saw two guys lose fingertips."

  "Gross." As she giggles her back presses against me a little firmer.

  "Just those three?" I ask as I finish the third tomato.

  "Uh, yeah. But peppers and the onion." Reaching forward, her ass slides up my hard dick and I bite back the moan that almost escaped, until she slides back down it as she gets off her toes.

  It was only a grunt and I clear my throat in hopes she's not catching on, but I see her shoulders bounce in a silent laugh.

  "You want to try?" I turn the knife handle her way.

  "I'm afraid I'll slice the skin from my knuckles." Her laugh pushes her harder against me and I move closer, positioning my feet so they're on the outside of hers.

  "Like this." Holding her hand that's gripping the knife, I position her other hand.

  This is an elementary move that I always scoffed at in movies, but now I'm in the position, I get the purpose of how intimate it can get two people.

  I'm not certain who started rocking first but she's rubbing against my dick while I try and concentrate on not cutting our fingers off. Her breathing picks up and her head lays back against my chest. For safety reasons, I stop chopping and want to lean down to taste her skin but that'll interrupt the perfect rhythm she has on my cock right now.

  "I'm going to come," she pants.

  "I haven't even touched you yet," I say, pulling the knife from her hand.

  "Don't stop," she moans and starts moving faster.

  I'm not doing much except keeping constant pressure against her back but she starts moaning in the way she does before she comes. I could pop one off right now but it seems like such a waste because I haven't even touched her or gotten her naked yet. I don't know how she's about to come. My hands are on the counter and haven't moved, but sure enough she calls out with her orgasm as her once stroking ass slows down, and her panting chest presses her back against me.