“Actually, I don’t want to,” I snapped back defensively. “Jeez. Get over yourself, Dominic.”
“Actually,” he mocked. “I wasn’t referring to myself, but thank you. That was very revealing.”
I glared at him as prickling heat painted my cheeks. “You’re…you’re so freakin’ delusional. And annoying!” I crossed my arms and pressed back in the seat. “Just take me to Gabriel’s.”
“Gabriel?” He huffed out a laugh. “If the Council is truly after you, as you suspect, Gabriel is the very last person you should be running to right now.”
“Give me a break. How many times are we going to go through this? He would never do anything to hurt me.”
“Perhaps not intentionally.”
I hesitated for the briefest of moments. “He wouldn’t,” I repeated, though there was less vigor behind my words this time.
“Are you willing to stake your life on it?”
A shiver of uncertainty climbed down my back. Could I trust Gabriel not to turn me into the Council? What if they promised him that no harm would come of me? What if they convinced him that they just wanted to protect me? Would he fall for it?
I couldn’t answer the question with absolute certainty and I hated myself for it.
“Never mind,” I said and then shot him a warning look. If he so much as uttered anything close to ‘I told you so’, I was going to rearrange his pretty little vampire face.
A few beats of tension-filled moments passed between us.
“I must say,” said Dominic, finally breaking the silence, “I expected you to say Romeo. I assumed he’d be the first person you’d want to see.”
Trace…
He wasn’t just the first person I wanted to see, he was the only person. His face had haunted me for weeks, tormenting me with the prospect of a perfect love, yet slipping away from me as though it was never intended to be mine. He was the one who brought me out of the darkness, and sometimes he was the one that brought me into it.
I knew I could go to Trace. I knew he would protect me with his life; that he’d sooner die before giving me up to the Council. But…I shook my head. But what about his father? I mean, Peter Macarthur was just as indoctrinated to the Order as my uncle was. And they were both present the night of my attack, whispering secrets to each other that I hadn’t even begun to unravel yet.
Nope. I can’t go to Trace’s, I decided. “It’s too risky to go there.”
Dominic looked at me strangely, though he didn’t say anything.
The silence immediately bombarded me with truths I didn’t want to fess up to. I knew that my refusal to go to Trace had a lot more to do with my fear of facing him than it did with anything Peter Macarthur could do to me.
After everything that had happened while I was away, I had no idea what I was going to say to him…or how I would feel when I finally saw him again. What would he think of me once he found out that I was bonded to Dominic? That I let him drink from me. That I drank from him. That I…that I begged him to kiss me.
I shook my head violently, hurtling away all the sordid memories.
“You could always come home with me,” offered Dominic, interrupting my steep descent into hell.
I looked up and met his gaze. There was something vulnerable flickering in his eyes—something that looked a lot like hope and fear. Fear that I wouldn’t just up and leave him now that this was over. Hope that I would still want him after I no longer needed him. And the truth was, I sort of did. I wanted to stay close to him because being close to him was the only constancy I had in my life right now. It was the only time I felt okay being in my own skin.
I couldn’t fully explain it, I just felt it.
“You wouldn’t mind?”
“My door is always open for you, angel.” His lips curled up in the most delicious way. “You don’t even have to knock.”
Huntington Manor was as quiet as a cemetery. The air was stale and thick, and the temperature chilled from being void of any life for the last few weeks. Even still, there was something comforting about being back there.
As was always customary with us, we walked straight into the den where Dominic immediately fixed himself a drink and then started a fire. I sat on the couch, my legs curled up beside me as I stared at the phone, trying to dig up enough courage to make the phone call I’d been too afraid to make since the moment we left Engel’s castle.
Dominic picked up the cordless phone and placed it on the sofa beside me.
I continued staring at it without moving for it.
“Should I make up the guestroom?” he asked, remarking my hesitation.
I crossed my arms and shook my head. “I don’t think I’ll be staying very long.” The words came out a lot sadder that I had intended them to.
“You could always postpone the call until tomorrow,” he said, hunger dousing his onyx eyes.
“I could, but…”
“But you won’t,” he finished for me knowingly.
It was unnerving the way he seemed to know me. When the hell did that happen?
“I’ll go see about a blanket,” he said with a wink and then turned to leave. “Give you some privacy like a decent man,” he added over his shoulder as he left the room.
I smiled absentmindedly at the spot he had been standing in. I wasn’t sure exactly when it happened, but things between Dominic and me had changed—evolved into something easier.
Snapping out of my daze, I picked up the phone with a shaky hand, though it took me several more seconds to turn the damn thing on.
There was only one number that mattered to me—one person I wanted to call, but I seemed to be paralyzed by fear. The truth was, I wasn’t entirely sure I was ready to face Trace yet, and I sure as shit wasn’t ready to tell him what had happened between Dominic and me while I was gone. It was going to shatter him—completely wreck him—and it killed me to know it would be by my own hand. A part of me just wanted to keep running, to keep avoiding it for as long as I could, but that ship had sailed without me. Every minute I wasted not calling him was another minute he spent worrying about me. And I couldn’t do that to him.
Drawing in a jagged breath, I keyed in his phone number.
“Hello?” answered the boy from my forever dreams.
His voice hit me like a knee-buckling punch to my gut.
“Hello?” he said again, his voice firmer now. Irritated. “Who is this?”
My stomach twisted into a knot as his voice fluttered through my mind like a childhood memory. How I’d missed that beautiful, deep baritone voice.
“I’m hanging up,” he snapped.
“It’s me, Trace.” My voice came out so low, I wasn’t even sure I’d said the words aloud.
Silence.
“Jemma?” he asked quietly as though he didn’t trust what he was hearing. “Is it really you?” There were so many emotions coloring his voice—disbelief, fear, confusion…desperation. I wasn’t sure how to respond to them with anything other than guilt and the intense desire to run.
“Jemma, talk to me. Where are you? Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay,” I finally answered. “I’m not hurt.”
There was a quick blow of relief on the other end. “Where have you been? What…what happened to you?”
I wanted to ease his worries, to answer all his questions, but I couldn’t delve into it right now. Not like this. Not on the phone. “Engel happened, Trace. But I’m okay. It’s finally over,” I said, hoping to somehow comfort him.
He paused again, his breathing heavier now. “Tell me where you are, Jemma. Please, I need to see you.”
I wasn’t sure how else to say it, so I just blurted it out. “I’m with Dominic.”
“Dominic?” Ice immediately laced his tone. “Why? What’s going on?”
“I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I can’t go home right now. Not until I figure out who I can trust.”
Another drawn out pause. No doubt he was trying to digest the sour taste
of my words. “Why didn’t you come to me?” There was no mistaking the hurt in his voice. This was a blow to his heart; a blow to what we were before I was taken away from him.
“I wanted to, but…” I didn’t want to outright tell him that I had suspicions about his father. That I suspected his father and my uncle were involved in my attack at Taylor’s party. This was a conversation that needed to be had face-to-face. “It’s a long story, Trace, but I’ll tell you everything when I see you. I just…I can’t do this over the phone.”
“Okay, then let me see you, Jemma,” he pleaded. “I’ll take you wherever you want to go. I just need to see you. I need to know you’re really okay.”
Tears brimmed at his words. I could hear the want in his voice, the sheer need he had for me. As afraid as I was to see him, as much as I feared his reaction to what had transpired between Dominic and me, I needed him too.
“Jemma? Are you still there?”
“I’m at the Huntington Manor.”
“Don’t move,” he ordered and then hung up the line.
I placed the phone down beside me and angled myself towards the fire. Fear knotted my insides as I wondered how I was going to feel when I was finally inside his arms again. After everything I went through—everything I’d done to stay alive—I wasn’t sure I still fit in that space anymore. I wasn’t sure I still deserved him. He was everything good in this world. Beauty and light and strength. And I was the thing that lived in the dark.
The thing that destroyed all of the good in the world.
“Everything alright, love?” asked Dominic. He stopped at the entrance of the den and leaned his shoulder against the wall. The way he stood, with the light from the fire highlighting his cheekbones, he looked like a beautiful angel.
The good kind, for once.
“Trace is on his way.”
He studied me as tears tumbled down my cheeks freely.
“I’m assuming those are tears of joy?”
He walked over to me and took a seat on the edge of the coffee table across from me. I buried my face in my hands not wanting him to see the emotional mess I’d become.
He moved my hand away from my face and gazed at me, not saying anything.
“You like seeing me cry or something?”
“No.”
“Then stop staring at me, Dominic!” I wasn’t in the mood for this…this…whatever the hell this thing with Dominic was. “I’m embarrassed enough.”
“There’s nothing to be ashamed of, love.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“You did what you had to do to survive. He won’t like it, but he’ll understand.”
My head popped up, surprised that he knew what was troubling me. “How did you—?”
“We’re bonded, angel. That doesn’t disappear just because we’re home.” His hand came out and wiped away a strangling tear from my cheek. “He’ll forgive you.”
I shook my head. “All I do is hurt him.”
“You’re worth suffering for.”
“Don’t, Dominic. Please.” I didn’t want to be consoled or touched or looked upon. Not by him. My life was confusing enough right now without having to worry about whether I’d gone ahead and caught feelings for him. I buried my face in my hands again. How the hell was I going to tell Trace the truth when I wasn’t even sure of it myself?
“I do hate to see you cry, angel. Tell me what I can do to make you feel better. What do you need?”
I really needed him to stop saying all the right things to me.
“Nothing. I’m fine,” I said, shaking his offer away. “Really. Everything’s fine.” Pulling in a lungful of air, I wiped my cheeks clean in an effort to regain some of my composure.
He picked up my hand and for a second, he just held it. “Angel, I—”
Dominic’s words were cut off by the sound of the front door crashing open, followed by a set of heavy footsteps. Within seconds, Trace appeared at the entranceway—eyebrows pulled together, chest rising and falling at dangerous speeds.
My breath caught in my chest.
His mouth opened to say something, but nothing came out. Instead, he just stared at me…
Eyes crestfallen.
Heart broken.
18. BADGE OF DISHONOR
I shot up from the couch as though I’d just been caught doing something I wasn’t supposed to be doing. Who knows, maybe I was doing something wrong. But I didn’t move after that. Not a muscle. I couldn’t. I just stared back into Trace’s piercing blue eyes—eyes that were now filled with hurt and anger—as a million perfect almost-lifetimes with him flashed through my mind. Each one dragging me closer and closer to my own unravelling. My emotions twisted inside of me, shifted towards him, but my feet remained unmoving as though cemented to the ground.
“I’d tell you it’s nice to see you again, Romeo,” said Dominic as he picked up his glass and took a sip of his drink. “But that would be a lie.”
Trace didn’t answer. He just attacked.
Glass shattered as Trace barreled into Dominic, knocking him clear off the coffee table and landing several feet from where I was standing—frozen like a half-wit. There was no pause in his attack, no chance for Dominic to catch his footing and defend himself as Trace rained down blow after blow without the slightest regard for Dominic’s life. How ironic that after everything Dominic and I lived through, he was about to end up dead right here in his own freaking living room.
Blood splatter hit me in my face, snapping me out of my stupor. Panic-stricken, I jumped over the coffee table and landed on Trace’s back as I frantically tried to pry him off of Dominic.
“Trace! Stop it! What are you doing?” I yelled, pulling at his shirt from behind. But he easily shucked me off. “You’re going to kill him!” I screamed.
My warning only seemed to encourage him. He hit him harder and faster, never breaking once to give Dominic a chance to hit back. Pinned between the coffee table and the end of the sofa, he was in the perfect position to be on the receiving end of one of the most horrendous beatings I’d ever witnessed. Trace had lost complete control of himself and if I didn’t find a way to stop him right then, he was literally going to kill Dominic.
I screamed again, though this time with enough fear-driven force to yank Trace back far enough so that I could jump out in front of him. My arms shot out like a barricade. “Stop it! Please! Just stop!”
His arm was pulled back, frozen in the air as his hand stayed balled into a white-knuckled fist. He was shaking with rage. For a second, I thought he might not be able to control himself, that he might continue swinging despite the fact that I was now standing directly in his line of fire.
But he didn’t.
With his jaw muscles pumping savagely, he dropped his fist to his side.
“What the hell is the matter with you?” I snapped, ramming my hands into his chest. “You could have killed him!”
“Give me some credit,” said Dominic, offended. He was leaning back against the sofa, wiping blood from his mouth. “I could have taken him if I wasn’t so spent.”
“Spent, eh? Well, the night’s still young, dead boy,” seethed Trace, taking a warning step towards him.
I pushed him back again. “Stop it! He’s not the enemy, Trace! He’s not!”
He didn’t believe that for a minute. “If he’s not the enemy, then who is, Jemma? Who did this to you, huh?” His eyes sped over my body, his face wincing as he took in all the marks and bruises. “He was in on it,” he said, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “He was there—I know he was.”
“Yes, he was there,” I admitted. “But he was on my side, Trace. He was there to help me and it would have been a lot worse if it wasn’t for him.” I crossed my arms in an effort to hide the teeth marks on my wrists. “You have to trust me on this. You have it all wrong.”
“Then set me straight, Jemma. Tell me what the hell is going on!” He took a step towards me, his nostrils flaring from the adrenaline that was obvio
usly still coursing through his blood.
I put my hands out to soothe him. “I’ll explain everything. Every single detail. But you need to calm down first. I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.”
“Fine,” he snapped back, lightning-quick. “I’m calm, alright? I’m calm,” he said again, trying to keep his composure.
He so wasn’t calm.
“Trace. Please.” I pressed my hand against his chest and my body immediately hummed from the contact.
He lifted his chin, his brilliant cobalt eyes latching onto mine like magnets. Everything slowed down, faded out and his features instantly softened.
“There you are,” I whispered as I reached out and picked up his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. I missed you, I said to his beautiful mind so that only the two of us could hear.
He pulled me into him. Strong arms wrapped around my body as I buried my face in his chest.
“There’s isn’t a word for how bad I missed you.”
I couldn’t believe I was ever worried about being back in his arms. Sparks buzzed through my body, weakening my knees into jelly as I easily slipped back into the space as if I had never left it. He felt just the way I’d remembered him. And dear God, he smelled even better.
The world crumbled around us like it always did when we were together. There was no pain or fear, no threats of tomorrow. It was just me and him and it was all we really needed.
“Don’t you ever leave me again, you hear me?” he whispered into my hair, holding me tightly against him.
“I hear you.” And I did, because in his arms was exactly where I wanted to be until the day I took my last breath. If he’d have me, of course.
He pulled back and met my gaze, cupping my face with his strong hands. “Nothing in this world or beyond could ever keep me away from you, Jemma. Nothing.”
A smile tugged on the corner of my lips. His eyes immediately dropped to my mouth as the most beautiful look of want filtered through his iridescent eyes.
“So, are we just going to continue pretending I’m not in the room?” asked Dominic, clearly irritated by the sudden show of emotion that had nothing to do with him.
Iniquitous: A Dark Paranormal Romance (The Marked Book 3) Page 12