Chapter Twenty-Seven

When I woke up the next morning, Dominic told me that Zayden had to leave for work. I didn’t know how I felt about that news. Mainly because I had mixed feelings that hit me simultaneously. Relief because, after the whole thing on the couch, I wasn’t sure how I was going to face him, happiness to have the psycho stalker far away from me for at least a little while, and then obviously the most confusing, disappointment.

I was disappointed the second the words left Dom’s lips, and I can’t tell you why. The relief and happiness hit a half of a second after like a chaser, but unfortunately, this chaser didn’t remove the entire taste of that first shot.

I’m painting my nails because I’ve already watched everything worth watching on TV, did all the laundry, and cleaned the kitchen because there is nothing else to do trapped in this fucking apartment when a buzzing sounds from a side table in the living room. I frown at the noise before I follow after it, surprised to find a phone resting on the table with a sticky note on the front of it.

Use this wisely, angel.

I’m watching you.

- Zayden.

A rush of something flutters through me for a moment before I rightfully push it back where it belongs. I unlock the phone to find hundreds of unanswered phone calls and texts, ranging from my coworkers to my boss, ex-boss, I guess, to Gabby and Christian.

There is also one more text above the rest. It’s a single letter, but obviously I know who it is.

Z: I miss you, angel.

I debate whether or not to respond. I mean, I probably shouldn’t. But he didn’t have to give me a phone back, so I guess I should at least thank him, right?

Me: What made you decide to give me a phone?

His response comes almost instantly, like he was waiting for me to respond.

Z: How else am I supposed to handle being away from you for so long?

I smile, just barely, despite my better efforts as I respond.

Me: How long will you be gone for?

Z: Three days at most.

Again, warring feelings conflict me, but I don’t have it in me to name them right now.

Me: Where are you again?

Z: Working.

I roll my eyes at him.

Me: What do you even do for work? Dom has the security company and the mechanic shop. What do you do?

His response takes a few minutes to come before he responds.

Z: Text me before you go to bed, angel.

I’m not surprised by his response, and I scroll over to the text thread from Gabby. Her messages started out friendly and normal but quickly turned panicked when days went by with no response. Christian’s are very similar. They go from checking in on me to full-blown panic.

Deciding it’s probably just best to call Gabby, I hit call and wait for her to answer. It doesn’t ring for two seconds before her voice is rambling through the line.

“Thank God! I’ve been going crazy. What the fuck is going on? Your boss said you quit, and your landlord said you moved. What the hell, Blake?” she snaps.

I open my mouth, ready to respond, when Dom walks in from seemingly the shower after his workout in the makeshift gym next to his bedroom. A towel is wrapped around his waist, with a droplet of water falling from his jet-black hair before landing on his toned chest. He watches me with a self-satisfied smirk as I blink several times, shaking myself out of the self-imposed trance I suddenly found myself in.

“I’m sorry. It’s been a crazy week.”

“A crazy week? That’s all you have to say? Where are you?”

“At Dominic’s,” I say, causing his eyebrow to lift in intrigue as he stalks his way over to me.

“Dominic’s? So, what? You moved in with the guy you just started dating?” she scoffs in a tone that oozes judgment.

“It’s not just. We have been together for?—”

“Months, Blake,” she fills in. “You barely know anything about this guy. And he made you quit your job and give up your apartment? That’s toxic behavior, babe.”

“He didn’t make me do anything,” I defend, though I don’t know why I do. He technically did both of those things.

“Sure, he didn’t. Look, I don’t know what’s going on with your head, but I’m not about to let some smooth-talking asshole grenade your life like this. You’re gonna come stay with us until some sense is knocked into you. Do you think he will let you go willingly, or should we sneak you out tonight?”

I can’t help but let a humorless laugh escape me.

“Whoa, what? No.”

“No?” she questions.

“Yeah, no. I’m not sneaking out. This is my home, and if you don’t like it, then I don’t know what there is to say.”

She’s quiet for several moments before she finally speaks again.

“I’ll call you later when you’ve calmed down. You’re not thinking clearly. You need help.”

I scoff and shake my head.

“I don’t need you gaslighting me into thinking I’m in a toxic relationship, Gabs. I’m fine. You said you liked him, what’s the issue all of the sudden?”

“I like him, sure, but there is something off about him. Something dark. He’s fine as a casual getting out there kind of thing, but to up and change your whole life for? No, sweetie,” she says in a patronizing tone that grates my nerves.

Looking up at the ceiling, I shake my head as I speak. “Whatever, Gabby.”

Now it’s her turn to scoff. “Whatever Gabby? That’s really all I get? After everything me and my family have done for you? You’re gonna throw years of friendship away because of some guy?”

“No, I’m throwing years of friendship away because you’re a judgmental bitch.”

“Fine. Don’t come crying to me when you end up broken and battered, just like before. I won’t be here. Good luck pulling yourself out of the gutter.”

Without another word, the phone goes dead, and an unbelievable amount of sadness and anger rushes through me. I honestly can’t believe that just happened. Gabby has always been my closest friend, my freaking person. When the world let me down, she didn’t. I don’t care if she had solid points, her attitude was way off. If this was the first time we’ve had a conversation like this over a choice I’ve wanted to make for myself, maybe I could look past it. But this isn’t even close to the first time she’s tried to manipulate me into doing what she thinks is best, what she wants. Even if she’s trying to come from a place of love, she’s out of line, and that last sentence did it for me.

Dominic is just standing there, staring at me as I clutch my phone in my hand and stare at the wall behind him. It takes me at least a minute before I even make eye contact with him.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“It’s fine,” I bite out.

He takes a step closer to me, cupping my face in his hands as he looks down at me.

“I didn’t ask if it was fine, I asked if you were okay.”

I pause for a moment before I eventually nod.

“Good, she wasn’t a good friend to you anyway,” he says as he presses a kiss to my forehead. “But you probably shouldn’t mention this to Zayden.”

Frowning at that, I pull back to look at him.

“Why?”

He levels me with a “seriously” look that has me turn my head to the side.

“Because if he heard anyone tell you that staying here with me and him will leave you broken, battered, and in the gutter, he’d string them up by their toes and skin them alive.”

I gulp at that, a small rush of fear tearing through me as I’m reminded yet again just how psychotic these men I’ve somehow found myself with are. I say men because, even though I haven’t seen Dominic kill anyone, I don’t doubt for a second that he’s every bit as capable as Zayden. He just has more self-control, a bit of a moral compass steering him right from wrong. Zayden doesn’t have such a device, and honestly, I think he enjoys it better that way.

“Hey,” Dom says softly, shaking me out of my thoughts.

I look up at him, and he gives me a sympathetic look as his thumb brushes against my cheek.

“How about a movie night? We can order in, whatever you want, watch comedy movies, and forget this day.”

“It’s not even night yet,” I say, looking out to see the Seattle gray still intact, but it’s not raining, so that’s big for western Washington.

Dom shrugs. “It doesn’t matter, we can’t leave the apartment right now even if we wanted to, so we might as well do whatever the hell we want.”

I open my mouth, ready to ask all of the questions that have been bouncing around in my brain for days, weeks now, but I know it’s futile.

He seems to sense my resistance as he wraps me up in a hug, holding me tight, before whispering against my ear, “It’s okay, baby. This is all temporary, I promise.”

I can’t help but smile, just a bit. All he’s ever trying to do is take care of me, whether that is physical or mental. I swear I’m not sure the man knows there are much bigger things to life than constantly hovering over me. It’s different from the way Zayden hovers.

Zayden watches me like I’m the most captivating thing in the world. Like he wants to dissect me piece by piece to understand the fascination of it all before hoarding those broken pieces to himself. Dominic is just always there, silent and stoic more often than not, but always unmoving. He cares deeply, so deeply, you might not even recognize it if you didn’t know him. I do, though, and with him around, I’ve never felt so safe in my life.

Nodding to Dom, he gives me a quick wink before he’s pulling out his phone and calling in an order to our favorite Mexican restaurant. I cross the kitchen, heading for the upper cabinet, before grabbing the bottle I’m in search of. I cut a lime, grab the salt, and swipe two shot glasses to accompany the tequila before making my way back to the couch. Dom finishes our order a moment later and quirks an eyebrow at me.

“What are you doing?”

“Drinking. It’s better than just staring at a box like a mindless zombie, and I’ve already done enough of that for today, so next best thing, yeah?”

Dominic chuckles as he comes to sit beside me, his towel loosening slightly as he does.

“Alright, what are we doing? Just shot for shot drunk? Drinking game?”

I think about that for a moment before I grin.

“Truth or shot,” I say with a nod.

He seems to think it over for a moment or two before he slowly nods.

“Don’t you think you’re at a disadvantage? Seeing as I’ll be able to drink five times as much as you.”

“You’re big talk, Graves. That means I go first.”

He holds his hand out in an “after you” motion as he settles back against the couch, watching me with a hint of a smile.

“Alright. Truth or shot, did your parents actually die in a drug bust?”

His smile falls instantly, pain and anger passing over his face. For a moment, I think he’s going to get up and storm away, but after a few seconds, he uncaps the tequila, pouring it into his glass before lifting the clear liquid to his lips. He tosses it back without a wince or a hint of a burn before he stares at me.

“Did your dad hurt you?” he asks.

A cold chill runs down my spine at the question. Fuck, I guess neither of us are pulling any punches here.

I debate on taking the shot, but if I do, we might both be drunk before we get anywhere tonight.

“No,” I answer shortly.

His eyes squint at that, but he doesn’t say anything, just nods.

“Do you think Zayden will ever kill me?” I ask.

He frowns at that, physically recoiling at the question as he opens his mouth to answer before he pauses.

“I hope not.”

My eyes bug out at that, and Dom doesn’t offer me any comforting words for several seconds before he speaks again.

“Zayden can’t do anything halfway. He hates big, he fights big, he obsesses big. It’s who he is. The only way I could see Zayden hurting you is the way a child hurts the new puppy they got for their birthday. He’ll love you so big, want nothing more than to hold you tight. Only if he’s not careful, it’ll be too tight, and he’ll snap your neck.”

Confliction courses through me at his words. Mainly because I don’t know what to do with them. Fear isn’t an emotion that pops to the surface, and that’s concerning for me. Disgust isn’t up there either, again concerning. Instead, Dom’s words just make sense. They confirmed everything that I suspected but didn’t know how to verbalize. Zayden is clearly obsessed with me. He even thinks he loves me, and consciously, I don’t think he would ever hurt me, but with all that obsession and all that “love,” there is a very real possibility that I won’t make it out of this alive.

“I’m not gonna let that happen,” Dominic continues, as if he can see my mind spiraling. “I’ll die before harm comes to you.”

My stomach flips at the ferocity in his words, the truth behind every syllable. He reaches out, cupping my hand in his and lifting it to his lips, pressing a quick kiss to it before squeezing.

We continue playing the game for what feels like hours. I start asking all the questions I know Dominic won’t answer, like what Zayden actually does for work, what else he does for work that he doesn’t tell me about, where Zayden went away to months ago, or where he is now. Each question was met with a shot that had the silent giant sinking deeper and deeper into the couch. Guess he can’t hold his liquor as much as he thought.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m three sheets to the wind myself. Dominic started getting really fine-tuned with his questions, asking if any boyfriends or kids in the foster homes ever hurt me. I chose not to answer instead of being honest because if I were honest, that would leave only a few more questions, and I don’t want him even close to that trail.

“Okay, okay, I gots one,” I slur with a giggle.

Dom chuckles and wipes his hand across his face like he can shake off the buzz he clearly has going on.

“Have you ever hads a th-hreesome,” I say, the words struggling to roll off my tongue as I begin giggling once more.

I watch as Dom licks his lips, sinking his teeth into his lower one with a salacious smirk.

“Dominic Graves!” I gasp as my words evolve into a fit of laughter once more.

He shrugs his shoulders.

“My brother and I are a good team.”

Heat rushes through me at his words.

“You had a threesome with Zayden and another woman?”

Dominic nods.

“Was it hot?” I ask, my pulse thundering and my panties soaking at the thought of it.

His eyes come to mine, heat flaring in the deep brown eyes.

“Very.”

The next words that slip out of my mouth are unexpected and completely unauthorized.

“Zayden fucked me with his knife,” I blurt. “Right here, where you’re sitting, actually. He pushed the handle inside me and…”

My words die off as Dom grabs the tequila bottle, leaving behind the shot glass as he puts the bottle to his lips and takes three large gulps. When he pulls it away, he keeps it in his hand as he speaks.

“I know. I watched the security cameras last night.”

I’m quiet for a moment as he stares at the nearly-empty bottle, tipping back the last remaining liquid as he leans his head against the back of the couch and closes his eyes.

“It’s okay, baby. You like him, it’s okay,” he murmurs almost to himself before a soft snoring sound fills the room.

Holy shit. I outdrank Dominic. I mean, not really, since he had way more than me, but I put this practically godlike man on his ass, snoring away on his couch. His words echo in my head. Like him? Like Zayden? Yeah, there isn’t a chance in hell of that. He’s psychotic and demented, and Dominic is perfect. They are identical twins, one is good and one is bad. I’m already with the good twin. Why the fuck would I want the bad one?

Then, from no fault of my own, mental images of a twin sandwich pop into my head. God, that girl must have been in heaven. Jealousy spikes through me at the idea of someone else having them, of someone else knowing what it feels like to have their complete attention, four hands, two mouths, two tongues, and two huge cocks. My pussy throbs at the idea of it, and before I can stop myself, I’m grabbing my phone.

It rings for several seconds before that gravelly voice answers, sending a shiver down my spine and another pulse between my thighs.