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Dominus

Page 8

by Terina Adams


  She sauntered across the floor in yet another pair of stunning leather boots, looking like she’d been poured into her pantsuit. She eyed me all the while, taking in my jeans and shirt.

  “I don’t suppose Jax has bothered to tell you?” She looked sideways at Jax, who was busy cracking the lid on two cans,—even though I’d refused a drink—to involve him in the conversation.

  “I can’t say since I don’t know what you’re alluding to.”

  Elva looked down at me—without the heels she would be at least six foot. As if my comment was a call to arms, she squared on to me. “Jax and Holden are enemies. They hate each other.” Her smile was shockingly seductive. “Which makes this”—she waved a hand dismissively at me and Jax—“kind of funny, don’t you think?”

  She sauntered a little closer, bringing her exotic perfume with her, mandarin and clover blended with other warming spices.

  “Oh, dear. What are you going to do now?”

  Jax came up beside her. “I think it’s enough.” He handed me one of the cans, winked, and said, “Don’t worry. I won’t tell.”

  Elva rested her elbow on Jax’s shoulder. The heels brought her up to his height. “You won’t, but maybe I will.”

  He moved away from her. “Cut it out, Elva.” He motioned with his head for me to follow. “She won’t. I’ll see to it.” Then he smiled. “Trust me.”

  It didn’t really matter to me if she did. The two of them were still working with the false assumption Holden and I were an item. All the same, her snarly attitude made me uncomfortable. I didn’t want to be here any more than she wanted me here.

  “I think I should go.”

  He spun and stopped dead in front of me. “Why?”

  He looked over my shoulder and frowned. “Time to leave, Elva.”

  I turned to catch Elva’s smirk, which she didn’t bother to hide.

  “Sure. Anything you say, boss. It’s too late now, though. Nothing will make it easier for her. You should know that.”

  Jax sighed. “Just go, will you?”

  She spun and sashayed her way across the floor. At the lift, she grabbed a jacket that hung from iron hooks to the left. The smirk had yet to leave her mouth and she bestowed plenty of it on me before the doors enclosed her inside.

  “Sorry about that. Elva’s…Elva. There’s not a lot more I can say.” He headed over and threw himself into one of the slouch couches and slung a leg over the side. I stood, not wanting to get comfortable.

  He watched me for a moment before taking a swig of his drink then sitting forward. “You want explanations, I guess?”

  “It’s the only thing that would stop me from leaving.”

  “So where do I start?”

  “Is what Elva said true?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you know Holden? Why are you enemies? Is it because of Elva?”

  “I’m going to forget everything you ask if you fire them at me like that.”

  I sat on the armrest of the couch closest to me. “Answer those and we’ll move on.”

  “Holden and I go way back. We come from the same place.”

  “As in?”

  His blank stare gave me nothing. He took a swig of his drink. “Not from around here. We’ve never liked each other. It’s more to do with where we come from, different neighborhoods you could say, than anything personal. Like the Capulets and the Montagues. You know Shakespeare?”

  “I’m surprised you do.”

  One corner of his mouth crept up in a half smile. He sat back.

  “As for Elva… Yes, Holden and Elva had a thing. She was, let’s say, a Capulet and he a Montague and never the twain shall meet. But they did and raised a few hackles along the way. It lasted as long as any ill-fated romance can. Messy in the end. Hasn’t he told you any of this?”

  I shook my head. Of course he wouldn’t since we barely knew each other.

  “Anyhow. I’m a Capulet. So there’s nothing stopping me and Elva making it, right? Yeah…but we haven’t. Not interested. Elva’s…Elva. Not my type. So no, the ill will between me and your boyfriend has nothing to do with her.”

  “When you say messy, what do you mean?”

  “As in, is he over her messy? Is that what you’re asking?”

  Why was I asking? There was so much more to know than messy personal history.

  “You tell me. Is Holden the sort to pine over a lost love?” He goaded me.

  I looked at the can of soft drink in my hand.

  “I doubt it. Holden was over her long ago, from what I can gather. Different story for Elva. She never wanted to let him go.”

  He stared at me, as he always did, looking like he was gauging his reply—as he always did.

  “Where Holden’s concerned, you’ve got nothing to worry about. He’s not the sort to stay in love, lacks loyalty.”

  I wasn’t worried, but I refrained from enlightening him about my relationship, or lack of, with Holden. I didn’t want him thinking I was alone and at his mercy.

  “Everyone in your gang, are they from your neighborhood?”

  He nodded.

  “You said your sister was dead?”

  “As are my parents.”

  Life in tough neighborhoods was like that. “Oh.”

  “They were murdered.” It rolled off his tongue so smoothly I couldn’t believe I’d heard it right. I didn’t want to feel sorry for him. “When did that happen?”

  “Six months ago.”

  “So recent.” It would explain his joyless nature and hard exterior. And I couldn’t help but feel the twinge of empathy for him. If anything happened to Mum and Ajay… I couldn’t bear to think about it. They were all I had left in this world.

  “The guy responsible is in this city.”

  “Did you come here because of him?”

  “I’m going to make him wish he never messed with my family.” A raw energy pulsed through his body and into me, the assault of withheld rage. I’d never been hammered by such a strong emotion as this before.

  “You do that and he’ll win. Killing someone is a hollow victory, especially when you’re in jail.”

  His laugh was hard and angry. “Is that experience talking?”

  “You seem to know me so well, what do you think?”

  “I’m not talking about killing. He took something precious from me. So I plan on taking something precious back. Eye for an eye. Dying hurts the least, loss the most when it means more to you than life.”

  “Do you think you’ll feel happy when you’ve succeeded?”

  For once he wore his emotions on his face, but it would’ve been nicer if he’d left them tucked tight under his blank mask. A roiling darkness stirred beneath his calm exterior. He looked ready to explode, but he held himself in check. “Maybe not, but I owe it to my family. I can’t let what he did pass.”

  “And by the end, you will be so twisted you won’t remember who you are.”

  What would I do if in his shoes?

  “My sister was young, innocent, like Ajay. She didn’t deserve to be murdered. You care for your brother. Wouldn’t you want to see the murderer suffer?

  “Yes.” It was nothing more than a whisper. I took a drink from my can to hide my emotions. He was right. I’d be crippled by anger and the pain of having my brother brutally taken from me. But how far would I go?

  “My dad’s in jail for murder.” I stared at the can in my hand. Dammit, why did I say that? I hated Jax. He was a stranger, a dangerous one at that, and yet there was a mirrored hatred inside of us. Jax’s dirty, raw emotions surfaced my own. We were both messy people, crippled by something beyond our reach or ability to control.

  He nodded. “Rough blow.”

  He turned away as he said it and stared off into nothing, so I took the opportunity to scrutinize his expression. The mask he usually wore had slipped when we started this conversation, and now I was able to read the anger, but also something else humbling and fragile—his pain.

  “
They say he murdered a business associate of his.”

  “You loved him?”

  “Yes, I did. Once upon a time ago. I can’t now, though. Mum’s struggling to cope. They seized all our assets. Everything’s a mess because of him. He betrayed us. Now Mum’s looking to use his contacts to get herself a job. She’ll get herself in trouble and only Dad can talk sense into her, but I can’t see him alone because I’m underage.”

  Sudden cheers from a room behind brought Jax back into the present. He returned his attention to me, settling those black piercing eyes on me. The intimacy of our conversation before, then to the way he looked at me now, eyes hardened, expression cloaked by his anger, and it felt like I was sitting here with two different people.

  As if remembering something, he leaped to his feet. “Come. Let me introduce you to the rest.”

  He headed in the direction of the noise before I could protest. I didn’t want to meet anyone else. Elva had been enough. What if all his friends were as prickly?

  Jax looked over his shoulder at me as he pushed the door open. I slowed for a moment, seized by his expression. There was a finality within his dark eyes, an accomplishment achieved. He paused in the door, turning his head away, closing his eyes as he did so. For the time of my next breath, he hung in limbo. His body showed outward signs of his inner turmoil, shoulders rounded, head hung low. And for one second, before he entered the room, I read the sadness in his body language, all smugness gone, arrogance forgotten. Was this for his sister? Did the conversation churn up fresh pain? Looking at him, I saw defeat. Then the strange moment was gone as he entered the room, disappeared so fast I could talk myself out of believing it had been there.

  The room was white, stark, and vast—white on the ceiling, walls, and all the spaces around a large rectangular mat in the center. To our right, two guys sat at a desk, a giant screen in front of each. Both wore headphones so neither heard our entrance. Gamers.

  Jax tapped one of the guys on the shoulder. He jerked at the disturbance, then slid his headphones off as he turned around.

  “Jesus, man, this is a crucial moment.”

  “Tyren, say hi to Sable.”

  Nothing like Jax, his smile welcomed and made it all the way into his brown eyes. He smacked the other guy’s arm. “Pause, will you?” Then he leaped from his chair, extending a hand.

  “Nice to meet you.” He winked, engulfing my hand with his.

  Both Jax and Tyren had olive skin, but Tyren’s hair was shorn an inch from his scalp, revealing the same tattoo as Jax behind his right ear.

  He hit the other guy on the arm again. “Hey, Salvador, show some respect. Say hello to the lady.”

  Salvador looked over his shoulder and did a double take. He pulled his headphones to his shoulders. “I know you.”

  “I think I’ve seen you in school.”

  “Yeah, that it’s. You’re new, aren’t you?”

  I nodded to fill my lack of fitting response.

  “Salvador’s a wicked marksman. I’m being crucified here. You into gaming?” Tyren’s relaxed, talkative manner was in direct contrast to Jax.

  “Never done it before.”

  He eyed Jax with a wicked glint. “Looks like you have a new recruit.”

  “What? Me? I don’t think so.”

  Jax jumped to my aid. “Sable doesn’t have time now.”

  “Probably the best. It’s wickedly addictive. Once you start, you can’t stop. Sucks you in.”

  “Then I definitely don’t have time.”

  Jax began to back out of the room, which I took as my cue to leave too.

  “Hope to see you again, Sable.”

  Not likely. But at least he seemed sane.

  Without asking me if I wanted to go, Jax led me out the door, toward the lift.

  “I don’t know much, but it looks like you’re serious gamers with that setup.”

  “We don’t mind playing now and then.”

  “What’s it called?”

  “Dominus.”

  “Never heard of that one, but I’m not a gamer.”

  “I’m the GM. Dominus is a MMORPG we designed.”

  “What’s a GM?”

  “Game master.”

  “And you designed it? That explains your apartment. No one your age could afford a place in this area.”

  “I’m not the only one who designed it, and money’s not our motivation.”

  “What is?”

  “Play the game and you’ll see.”

  “I’m not a gamer.”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “I’m not interested in gaming.”

  “Have you done it before?”

  “No.”

  “How do you know you’re not interested?”

  “Sitting at a computer, chasing the bad guys, or grabbing the pot of gold doesn’t interest me.”

  “That’s not what it’s about.”

  “What is it about?”

  “Play the game.”

  Would this guy let up? “You haven’t even given me answers and now you want me to play a game. I don’t understand you. Are you going to tell me about what happened on the roof of the Adolphy?”

  “Are you going to play Dominus with me?”

  “What about how you got my number and know about my brother?”

  He stepped toward me and my pulse jacked. This was far too close for someone who was not my boyfriend. I became acutely aware of him and me, alone, a foot apart.

  “Play Dominus with me.”

  “You brought me here for this?”

  He allowed his eyes to speak, and for once, the black was no longer flat. Dad’s death stare, uncompromising, unflinching, unrelenting.

  “I don’t understand any of this. It’s like you’re not even human. Your mind’s so messed up.”

  “I need one of you, Sable. It’s up to you which one.”

  “You’re not making sense.” A horrible tingle raced through my body, twisting my stomach into the tightest knot. I stepped away, gaining much-needed distance to breathe.

  He had yet to blink. “Just one. And I’m sure you would want it to be you.”

  The coldness swept through me, turning my blood to ice. “You mean my brother, don’t you? You want him to play your stupid game.”

  “No, I want you, but like I say, I have to have one of you.”

  I spun and raced to the lift, but unlike a store entrance, it refused to open for me.

  “Next Saturday.”

  I turned back. “No.”

  He shook his head. “Wrong answer.”

  “You’re crazy. What’s so important about your game?”

  “You need to play Dominus before you’ll understand that.”

  I’d been expertly maneuvered, but to play an online game? This didn’t make sense. What happened to the drugs and other illegal stuff? I should be grateful. Playing a game was safer, if not the weirdest request I’d ever heard come from a guy I’d expected to live in a dungeon and house a room of weapons.

  Jax stood in the center of the room, hands flexed by his sides, legs hip-width apart, eyes trained on me like everything around us had faded to black, leaving me the only available view. This felt like a showdown, the final seconds to the fatal draw.

  “I play on one condition. That you stay away from Ajay. You don’t go near him. At all.”

  His reply was another one of his intense stares.

  “And we play. That’s all. When it’s done, I leave.”

  Now the smirk was back. “Sure.”

  I shook my head. “God, you’re smooth. You’ve been slick with your manipulation.”

  “No, Sable, you were always going to end up here. I’ve just fast-tracked your descent.”

  Chapter 9

  I didn’t need his frown to know I sucked at this. Holden stood back and appraised my stance.

  “I’m not getting it, am I?”

  “You’re doing fine. But you can do better. I know you can. I see it in the way you move. Yo
ur balance is great. You have a natural style.”

  “Is that your polite way of saying I suck?”

  “This is your first time. No one’s great their first time.”

  “But something is lacking.”

  “I wouldn’t say lacking. I have to warn you, my expectations are high. I ask a lot from my students. We can take a break for now.”

  “I can’t stay too long, so I’d rather keep trying.” I’d promised to do something with Ajay this afternoon.

  “This isn’t a punishment. We can take five minutes. Mastering martial arts takes time. It’s not only about learning the techniques. You must also learn to master your mind, for martial arts is as much about mental discipline as it is about the physical movements. The mental discipline is the hardest part.”

  “Does that mean you’re going to make me meditate?”

  He laughed, a warm, welcoming sound. “Not straightaway. But I’m serious about the mental discipline. Speed, agility, and technique are necessary, sure, but without the mental steel to see you through, everything else falls to pieces. You lock up, mind blanking out. And then it’s too late. You don’t want to be in that situation. I’ve seen many go down because they seize up, forget their training when the situation turns against them. That wouldn’t happen if you had control of your…” He tapped his temple.

  “Are you talking about marital arts tournaments?” I was trying to think of a time when any of his martial arts students and he would be in situations so dangerous they would fall apart.

  There was a pause in his reply. “Yeah. Tournaments.”

  Holden assumed a fighting stance and looked at me, invitation in his eyes. I remained where I was, not sure what was expected of me. He motioned with a finger that he wanted me to follow his stance. I did reluctantly.

  “Mental control is maintaining your focus even in the most desperate of moments.”

  He feigned an attack, and as a first reaction, I quick stepped back a few paces.

  His brow twitched, threatening a frown. “What happened to the skills I just taught you? Don’t turn skittish on me now, Sable.”

  Was he chastising me? “I wasn’t expecting you to do that.”

  “Your opponent is not going to wait around for you to give the signal you’re ready.”

  I’d caved under his repeated insistence I should come to his club and not because I had a keen interest in learning marital arts. To be truthful, I wanted to test our friendship, or whatever was budding between us, to see how far it could develop. Half of me was scared of allowing him into my ugly world; half of me wanted the distraction. Holden was good-looking, uncomplicated, and fun to be with, yet bizarrely intense when it came to his training. I had thought this would be relaxed and fun, but he’d turned into a mini drill sergeant; he’d turned into my dad.

 

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