Where We Ended (Where We Began Duet Book 2) Page 5

  Franklin prowls forward. The red walls reflect in his irises, giving him a demonic look. “Calm down,” he whispers gently. Crouching, he snatches at me. I think he's going for my arms, so I move them, but he grabs my braid, winding it like he's reeling in a fish. “You're making this into a bigger deal than it has to be.”

  I claw at his sleeves. His thick jacket protects him. “Let me go! Whatever you want from me, I'm not giving it to you!”

  His grip curls ever tenser. My scalp is a flaring ball of pain. Franklin lifts me until his lips brush my ear, his voice hoarse. “You know what I want. And you'll give it to me because I've already paid for it.”

  - Chapter 7 -

  Dominic

  My headlights illuminate the familiar curved gates of my estate. I scrape a hand over my face, yawning and miserable. I wonder if this is how Laiken felt when she didn't sleep the night her sister showed up.

  I'd tried my best—rented a nice hotel room after driving around for an hour. Instead of resting, I'd splayed across the firm mattress, eyeing the ceiling, until the sun streamed through the window.

  I'd debated coming back to the estate this morning. Every time Laiken's face popped into my head, I changed my mind. Showering didn't erase her, though it did make my stiff joints feel better.

  I could have paid for another night or three, or five, or however much I wanted, but I kept getting a terrible sensation in my chest when I considered it. Being near Laiken is painful. Being away from her is torture.

  Now, looking at the large house as I roll towards it, my encounter with her flashes through my tired brain again. I told her I wanted her. My blood boils as I recall how vulnerable I'd made myself. I fucking told her that, and she had to rub salt in my wounds. Laiken had no issues reminding me how my uncle was suffering. She'd begged me to give her any hint that I wasn't responsible for my cousin's death.

  Listening to her plea was worse than peeling my own skin away.

  As I park, I notice a car is missing. It's a black town car, usually used to escort us to important events when it'd be unseemly for us to drive ourselves. Powerful people are careful to avoid looking so pedestrian.

  A fingertip of unease creeps down my neck. Slamming my driver's side door shut, I hurry into the house. “Hello?” I call, glancing around.

  Emma pops her head around the corner. “Sir?”

  I scan the room, not sure what I'm looking for. “Where are my parents? Did they go somewhere?” Without me, I almost add.

  The maid blinks multiple times. “I think they're in your mother's room, they just got back from dinner. I didn't arrange for anything to be cooked because they were going out, but I can whip you up a meal, if you like.”

  “No.” Passing by her, I start to unzip my navy blue jacket. “I'm not hungry.” They went out to dinner tonight? I'm sure it wasn't a date, my parents aren't known for romance. That means it was a business meal. It's my fault for storming off last night. If I'd been around, they would have told me to come along. I can't see why else they'd cut me out. They've been involving me in the new business meetings without any problems, so far.

  There's something bugging me about all this.

  It digs at me.

  Refusing to let me go.

  Emma said they just got home. Then why is a car missing? Who has it?

  When I turn the corner towards my bedroom, I hear something banging. “Dominic!” a voice yells. I speed up, startled at the scene in front of me. Kara is outside my room, her fists smacking on the solid wood over and over. Her short hair is sticking up in places, as if she's been running at full tilt.

  “Kara, what's wrong?” I ask, rushing to her side, staring frantically around for some invisible enemy.

  Whirling on me, her eyes go wide. Pure terror. “It's Laiken,” she sobs.

  My heart is dropped into a blender. I grab her shoulders, squeezing too roughly as panic controls my muscles. It's amazing that she doesn't cry out. “What happened to her?”

  “I don't know! I saw her leave with Annie and Silas, and then they came back a few minutes ago, but she's not with them.”

  Releasing her, I storm down the hall towards my mother's room. It's where Emma said they'd gone. But if they aren't there, I plan to strip the house down to its joists until I find them.

  I don't knock, I throw the door open. My parents are sitting on the bed, both of them wearing elegant outfits. They stare at me as I head towards them like a train off its tracks. “What did you do?” I snap. “Where's Laiken?”

  Silas starts to stand; Annie puts her hand out to stop him. “She's helping save our business,” she says flatly. “You could learn from her.”

  All of my nerves are buzzing. I stop blinking, stop breathing, and it feels like my eyes will explode from my skull. “Where. Is. She.”

  “Stay out of this, Dominic,” my father commands. “She's the only reason we're sealing this deal.”

  This deal? I think, and then it hits me like twenty pounds to my liver. I know where Laiken is. I know exactly what they've done, and the whining in my ears grows so loud, so deafening, that I know it's building up to the biggest explosion ever. It goes off with a snap. Something inside of me splits open.

  I have no idea what it is yet.

  I can't slow down to even wonder.

  Ignoring my parents’ shouts, I storm through the halls at top speed. My world is a blur; sleep deprivation mixing with my immense rage and my building fear. They've given Laiken over to Franklin. I'm sure of it. I saw how he stared at her during our luncheon. It made me want to wring his fat neck.

  Seal the fucking deal, I think with disgusted rage.

  Franklin wanted Laiken. My parents handed her over. But if they think I'll believe she agreed to that, they're insane. The gratefulness in her face when I swooped in to keep him from harassing her removed any question. It kills me to imagine her being with him now, without me there to protect her.

  Go, go, go, go, go. I mentally chant as I slam the gas pedal, ripping through the gates so fast that they clip my side mirror. It's a miracle it doesn't break off.

  I know where Franklin lives. I've read everything about him and his partners and their company, all in a single day. I researched them to impress my father. I'm glad I did it because it's useful for a reason I never considered.

  Laiken isn't far, which keeps my hope alive.

  His house is ten minutes away at normal miles per hour. I reach it in half that. My tires screech as I spin down the curved driveway, headlights flashing on the black surface of another parked car. Theo throws an arm up, stunned by my appearance. I pound the breaks worried I'm going to smash into him and the car.

  The nose of my vehicle halts with a hand's width between it and the bumper. I don't waste time celebrating. I jump out and run for the steps. “Dominic!” Theo shouts. “Don't go in there! I was told not to let anyone go inside!”

  I don't give him the dignity of a response. Yanking on the handle, I find it locked. Through the walls I catch the tail end of a scream. The desperation in it makes every hair on my body stand straight up.

  Get in there, save her! She needs you! Grunting with the effort, I slam into the door over and over. On the fourth try it gives slightly; I almost pop my arm out of the socket on the final hit that throws it open.

  My eyes shoot around the room, taking everything in at once. I'm ready for a brawl. I can already taste Franklin's blood, I'm breathing heavily as I picture it staining my fists. His sickening smile stuffed with broken teeth.

  “You little—fuck!” Franklin yells.

  I wrench my head back, scanning the staircase. Franklin is half-sprawled on the top of it. His nose is dripping blood. It’s all over the front of his white shirt. One hand is gripping Laiken's leg as she pulls away from him, trying to climb higher. He's shaking his other hand in the air like it hurts. Two fingers on it are bent all wrong—are they broken?

  As I watch, he yanks her down the steps. She screams again, nails digging into the carpe
t. There's sweat all over his forehead and jowls; he pushes himself back to his feet, not releasing her, even as she drives her free heel into his stomach. “I'm going to make this hurt,” he promises her.

  “Laiken!” I roar, sprinting up the steps. “Let go of her!”

  I nearly collapse from how happy she is to see me. “Dominic!” she cries.

  Franklin stares, too, but he's not happy. He turns old-cheese yellow, mouth flopping open. “What the hell are you doing here?” While he's distracted, Laiken rears her leg back, bunching herself before uncoiling and shooting her foot into his hip. He cries out in shock as he topples down the stairs to land at my feet.

  Reaching down, I wrap my fists in his shirt. Buttons pop as I lift him in the air. All of my muscles strain to hold his massive weight off the ground. But I can't even tell how hard I'm working; my righteous fury makes him light as a bag of feathers. “You piece of fucking shit,” I seethe. “How dare you touch her? How dare you even think about it?”

  He grabs my forearms, gasping, trying to get free. “Stop,” he wheezes. “Put me down! Your parents—”

  “My parents don't get to make her fuck you,” I growl. Turning, I slam him against the wall. It jostles so violently that a painting spins free, breaking on the floor. “You're disgusting. I should tear your wrinkled cock from your body so you can never, ever do this again to anyone!”

  Franklin sucks in breath after wild breath. He can't break away from my stare. I've got him locked in place. A single drop of sweat glides down his temple. “Okay. I get it. Just let me down.”

  Movement to my right; Laiken has come to stand on the stairs beside us. Her hair is a mess, her dress ripped around the hem, and her shoes are both gone. In spite of all that, her expression is steady. She studies Franklin like he's a fascinating, but despicable, insect. “I broke your nose,” she says softly. “And two of your fingers. Why do I feel like that's not enough?”

  Franklin starts to tremble. I glance at Laiken, trying to gauge if she's putting on a brave act and is about to have a mental breakdown. “Go outside. Wait for me.”

  “I'm fine. I want to watch you destroy him,” she says.

  “No. You don't. Get out of here and wait for me in my car.”

  She challenges me with a long glare. I concentrate, trying to get her to see that I want her to leave not for her own good, but for mine. She already thinks terrible things about me. Watching me beat a man bloody won't do either of us any favors.

  She starts to descend the stairs. At the last second she spits phlegm at Franklin. It sticks to his cheek, and he flinches. I keep watching her until she slips through the open front door. It shuts gently in her wake. That's nice—she's giving me privacy.

  Franklin holds up his hands, appealing to me with his best I'm no threat impression. His pointer and middle finger on his right hand are purple and swollen. “Listen,” he hushes, licking his lips nervously. “Think this through. Your father will be furious when he hears what happened here, right?”

  My sneer inches slowly over my face. “Good point. Even if I stop now, he'll be angry regardless.”

  His mouth goes slack. “Wha—no, that's not what I meant! Dominic. Please. Use your head, not your heart.”

  Crushing my molars until my brain throbs, I drop him to the floor. There's a flicker of relief in his eyes as he stares up at me. “My head is telling me to break the rest of your fingers on that injured hand of yours. My heart is telling me to snap your jaw.”

  A hundred new wrinkles spring up around the corners of his eyes. “If you hurt me, I'll make sure I'm not the only company that refuses to touch your family's banks ever again.”

  I crouch, balancing on the balls of my feet. Franklin back-pedals but there's nowhere for him to go. “Guess I'll have to figure out how to deal with that.” His eyes fly wide; I snag his shirt, shoving him towards the doorway. He spreads out on his belly, flailing until he rolls onto his back.

  That's good—real fucking good.

  It means I get to watch his expression when I crush my heavy boot onto his uninjured hand, breaking every bone in it. Both his hands are useless now. He screams until his voice sounds like metal caught in a garbage disposal. I have to yell louder so he'll hear me. “I went with the third option, listening to my gut.”

  He curls up, groaning. Standing there, my adrenaline flooding my veins, I savor how he quakes in fear. I want him to suffer. This isn't enough, yet it'll have to do.

  I wait until he stops shouting; I need him to listen. Franklin's voice vanishes, gone from all the exertion. He cradles his hand, and with a pathetic sniffle, he gapes up at me.

  “I want to kill you,” I say calmly. “I want you in the ground in an unmarked grave so no one will ever waste a second of their life mourning you. It's not like anyone would be surprised if I did it. Know why I'm not?” His head barely twitches side to side. “Because murdering you would be too hard to hide. I'm not letting something as basic as prison keep me away from Laiken. In a way, you owe her your life.”

  He starts sobbing, snot mixing with his dried blood on his upper lip. I don't feel sorry for Franklin. The rage I hold for him is only equal to what I have for my parents. How they conspired to do this to Laiken is beyond reproach.

  I've never felt so cold towards Silas and Annie.

  Like I can't forgive them.

  Like I don't want to.

  I finally understand what snapped inside of me earlier.

  The part that was dedicated to seeking every scrap of approval, every hint of love, from the people who brought me into this world?

  It’s gone.

  - Chapter 8 -

  Dominic

  She's standing by my car instead of sitting inside of it like I asked.

  “In,” I snap. Her eyes move to the house behind me. “In,” I say again, harsher. She listens that time, opening the passenger door of my cobalt blue Jaguar. Jumping the steps, I fix Theo with a hard stare. He's pacing beside his vehicle, his phone in his hands, but the screen is dark. He hasn't called anyone yet.

  We lock eyes, and I dare him to get in my way. The young man is maybe a couple years older than me—probably used to acting tougher than he is to be taken seriously. But when I pass him, he stands straighter and puts his phone in his pocket. Good.

  Ripping my door open, I drop into the black interior. Laiken doesn't ask me what happened to Franklin. She's quiet as I rev the engine and reverse so quickly that leaves explode around us from the velocity.

  Then we're driving, the house in my rear view mirror.

  I can't get away from there fast enough.

  The sound of cloth ripping fills our silent bubble. Glancing at Laiken, I see that she's got her fingers coiled in the bodice of her gown. I watch in amazement as she sits up and rips it from her body. Its stitching is strong and well made, she fights with the fabric in great, gut-wrenching heaves until the gold sequins explode all over the floor of my car.

  “Laiken!” I shout, pulling off the road, putting the car in park. “What are you doing?”

  “I never want to see this dress again!” Her arms flex, the fabric splitting until her upper body is bare. There are almost no lights on this quiet stretch of road. The lamp pole in the distance casts a reddish glow through my windshield, enough to illuminate her beautiful body.

  She's breathing hard, her breasts rising in round waves. I'm fixated on the sight. It's been almost two weeks since I saw her naked. She was covered in mud, then. She's clean now, but I think she's exactly as gorgeous.

  Gripping the bundled mess around her hips, she catches my eye. Our gaze locks. Laiken hesitates a second, then she sets her mouth in a serious line and pushes the dress down her legs. When she's done, she's sitting on my car's seat in just her white panties.

  She's still panting.

  I'm drawing in quick breaths, too.

  “You saved me,” she says. “That's the second time.”

  “I couldn't let him touch you.”

  “You cou
ld have.” She tracks her eyes over my eyebrows, my chin, and my hands where they rest on the steering wheel. “A monster would have.”

  Feathery wings spread open in my chest as she leans forward to kiss me. I cling to the steering wheel as her tongue searches for mine. I give up when her fingers wrap in my jacket's collar.

  Shifting forward, I push her back against the passenger window. She tastes like sweet nostalgia. “Laiken,” I say, breaking free. I glimpse my reflection in the glass behind her head; my lips are red, pupils shrunken in black oceans. “You don't know how badly I want this—but are you sure? After what just happened, I . . .”

  Her fingertip rests on my lips. It medicates me into numbness. “Stop thinking about it,” she says seriously. “Because if you can't, then I can't. I have all of this energy in me, it's driving me insane, and if I don't do something, if I slow down and dwell, I'm afraid of what will happen.” Laiken puts her lips to mine on top of her finger. “I want this. I want you. That's all that matters right now.”

  Grabbing her wrist, I push it away from my face. “I don't want right now. I want forever.” My fingers fan over her delicate throat, holding her in place against the passenger door. She's my prisoner as I brush the tip of my nose on her cheek. “But starving men take what they can get.”

  My lips kiss her temple, her earlobe—the softness turns into a sharp nip of teeth. “Ah!” she gasps. Her nipples rub against the smooth surface of my jacket. It makes them firm, tempting. Sliding lower on the seats, I cup her left breast, flicking my tongue in a circle around her rosy areola.

  Laiken squirms under me. Gripping her thighs, I position her so I'm leaning against her only article of clothing. It reminds me I have too many clothes on. Easing her nipple into my mouth, I suckle gently, my cock thickening at her erotic whimpers. Without letting go I manage to unzip and throw my jacket into the backseat.

  It's been thirty-eight hours since I've last slept but I've never felt more awake. There's lightning coursing through my limbs, I'm more powerful than fucking Zeus. “I'm going to taste your pussy,” I growl, my lips still touching her nipple. She moans from the vibrations of my filthy promise. I need to taste it. I can't stop myself.