DOM: Alliance Series Book Three, page 28
My face scrunches up as I try to decide if I want Dom to think of me as cute.
“My favorite newlyweds.” Bibi greets us with her arms open, awaiting hugs.
Wanting to get the awkwardness out of the way, I step ahead of Dom and take the first hug. “It’s nice to see you again.”
She pulls back and grips my upper arms. “Aww, look how cute you are!”
Dominic snorts, but I ignore him.
I didn’t realize just how vast this market was going to be, but Dominic told me it was outdoors and to dress warm. So I did, with dark-wash stretchy jeans tucked into leather ankle boots, a sweater under my tan peacoat, and a bright white knit hat that matches my mittens.
Bibi moves to hug Dominic, and I melt a little watching him bend down to wrap his mother in a big hug.
He’s in his usual all-black everything, the long black wool coat his only concession to the cold December air. His hand and neck tattoos are the only ones visible, and they play against his pretty blue irises.
I already know every woman here is going to gawk at him. Case in point, a tall stunner is walking past, a man at her side, but her eyes are all over Dominic. And I want to strangle her with her scarf.
Deep breath, Val.
I can’t believe we’re already halfway through December. It seems like my life got flipped upside down just yesterday, but it’s been weeks.
I don’t think I’ve exactly forgiven Dominic, and I’ll probably still have insecurities about him for a while. But I’ve spent enough time with him now to see that the man I met in the airport, the one I texted with for over a month, the one who made me feel good about myself… It’s him. He’s the same man I thought I knew. I just didn’t know everything.
“Come on, let’s go get your wife something to drink. Then we can start shopping,” Bibi says over her shoulder as she starts to stroll down the gravel aisle.
“You heard the lady.” Dom places his hand on my back, and we follow her.
The market takes up a large open space that must be some sort of park, as we’re not far from the lake. But it feels like the size of a city block, and there are so many people here I’d call it packed. Lines at all the food stalls, crowds in front of the merchandise stalls, people standing shoulder to shoulder along the outskirts while they sip steaming drinks.
It feels like too many people.
I tug on Dom’s jacket, making him bend down to hear me.
“Is it safe to be here?” I ask. “With, well, whoever is out there?”
I don’t know the details about who is killing Dominic’s men. And honestly, I don’t really want to know. But every night since that Christmas party, and the amazing sex I had with Dom in the gym, I’ve gone to bed alone because he’s been staying out late, looking for the ones responsible. I usually wake up a little bit when he comes to bed in the middle of the night and drapes himself over me, but when my alarm goes off in the morning, he’s gone again.
I was surprised when he came home earlier this evening and told me we were going out. And now that I’m looking at these crowds, I’m even more surprised.
Dom slides his hand up my back and around my shoulders. “I know there are a lot of people here. But a hundred of them are mine.”
“A hundred?”
He nods. “Half of them are around the perimeter, and half are walking through the crowd.”
I’m tempted to ask him if they know who they’re looking for. But I don’t.
I shake my head. “I cannot eat another bite.”
Bibi laughs. “Okay, fine. We’ll just hop in line and meet you back here.”
She gestures to the pretzel stand a few stalls down before she and one of Dom’s aunties wander that way.
Between the donuts, mulled wine, bratwurst, stollen, and hot chocolate, I don’t know where the tiny woman plans to put another bite.
A stand with brightly painted wooden bowls is just on the other side of the aisle, so I step over to it while I wait for the ladies to get their food.
The colors on all the pieces are amazing, but my fingers trace over the surface of one bowl that’s been painted to look like intertwined stained-glass stars.
I pick it up, turning it around slowly, taking in the blues and golds.
There is literally no reason I need this hand-painted serving bowl, but I still flip it over to check the price written on the sticker on the bottom.
I nearly put it back, the price being higher than I’d usually allow myself to spend on something like this, but then I remember the eighty thousand dollars that just got added to my bank account and decide fuck it.
“I’d like this one, please,” I tell the woman behind the display, handing her the bowl and my debit card.
Dominic broke off from us a little while ago to wander with one of his uncles. He didn’t really give a reason why they couldn’t just walk with us, but his mom’s need to stop and look at every single ornament probably had something to do with it.
The woman wraps the bowl in brown paper, then slides it into a plain white bag.
I thank her and tuck my card back into my wallet, then hold the bag in one hand and my purse in the other.
My feet turn me the wrong way at first, and I only notice when I don’t see the pretzel stand, so I stop and turn back the other way. Except when I spot the pretzels, I don’t see Bibi.
Excusing myself as I bump into someone, I walk past the stand. But they aren’t there.
I spin around.
Maybe they went to find me.
But I didn’t see them walking over here.
I take a few steps.
What if I’m going the wrong way?
I stop.
They didn’t leave.
I say it to myself again.
They didn’t leave.
I spin around again. I can’t see them.
Stay calm. It’s okay.
Facing away from the pretzel stand, I start to walk.
The market is only so big.
They couldn’t have gone far.
Dominic is here somewhere.
Dominic has a hundred men here.
Except I don’t recognize anyone.
I try to walk quicker, but it’s still so crowded.
Breathe.
I stop again, and someone bumps into me from behind.
“Sorry,” I mumble as I open my little purse.
I’ll just text Dom, tell him to find me.
But I don’t see my phone.
I yank my mittens off and tuck them under my arm. With bare hands, I dig through the contents of my purse, but I can already see that there’s no phone.
I close my eyes as I try to think of where I left it. Then I remember Dominic taking it out of my hand when I was looking at the money he sent.
I don’t have a phone.
I’m separated, and I don’t have a phone.
Panic slithers through my brittle defenses, and I spin around again.
Where is everyone?
Angling my body, I weave through more people until I get to one of the intersections, where the paths of Christmas fun spread out in all four directions.
There are so many people, but none of them are familiar.
It’s okay. You’re just lost. Not left.
My chest starts to hurt.
Where is Dominic?
My vision starts to get blurry, and I blink.
Just breathe.
I try to. I try to pull in an even breath. But…
I try again.
Panic is winning.
I need to find Dominic.
I whirl around again, deciding to pick a new direction. But I’m too distracted, and my foot catches on something, stopping its motion while the rest of my body continues forward.
I trip over the front wheel of a baby stroller. And there’s enough time for me to let out a little shriek as my hands stretch out, and I catch myself on the rough gravel with my palms.
The sting of sharp rocks meeting skin is instant and causes me to lose my battle against the tears.
“Oh my god, are you okay?” A woman crouches down next to me. “I’m so sorry.” She apologizes, even though we both know I was at fault.
She grabs my arm, helping me up. “Are you alright?”
I nod, using the backs of my hands to wipe at my cheeks. “I’m okay.”
The words sound anything but, but I don’t have it in me to explain that my crying has nothing to do with falling. So I hurry away.
It only takes a few steps to notice that my knee is aching. I must’ve landed on that hard, too.
I wipe at my cheeks again and blink. But still, none of the faces around me are familiar.
My lower lip trembles with the urge to yell Dominic’s name. If I focused on taking a breath, I could probably yell it pretty loud.
But what if I yell for him and he doesn’t come?
He didn’t leave me.
Dominic is here; he didn’t leave me.
But no matter how many times I tell myself that, I can’t drop the disgusting worry that maybe he did.
I stumble a few more steps.
What if he left me?
There’s a part of my brain that knows I’m fine. A part that knows this is just a trauma response. More shit I need more therapy for.
But the other part of my brain is in charge right now. And that part is spiraling.
I suck in another jagged breath.
I can’t see the faces around me anymore. My vision is too fuzzy.
If they were people I knew, they’d say something. They’d get Dom.
But even with all these people, no one recognizes me.
What if everyone left?
I spot a break in the crowd ahead and push through it.
I keep going, not turning, until I find the edge of the market.
No one stops me.
No one calls my name.
I cut through the final flow of people and find an unoccupied bench on the outside of the last aisle. I lower myself onto it slowly because my knee is really starting to hurt. Once I’m seated, I set my purse in my lap, then—careful not to bump my injured palms—I pull the bowl I just bought out of its bag.
When I fell, I felt the bowl get smashed between my elbow and the ground, and I need to check to make sure I didn’t break it.
Peeling the paper away, I ignore the ache in my elbow and bite down on my lip. Hard. Because the top edge of the bowl is chipped—a piece of the shiny paint missing, revealing a jagged half-moon of dullness.
My thumb rubs over the spot as a tear drips off my cheek and splashes onto the curved surface of the bowl.
This is only a moment.
I will be happy in another moment.
I try to do the three rule thing my therapist taught me.
I try to look for three things. I try to hear three things. I try to focus on three things in my body.
But all I see are the broken parts.
Because everything breaks on Christmas.
CHAPTER 61
Val
“Angel.” Dominic’s soft voice touches me a moment before his hands land on the sides of my calves.
He’s crouched in front of me so we’re eye level.
I sniff before I look up at him. “Hi.”
Dom reaches up, brushing his thumb across my cheek. “What happened?”
“I got separated.” I sniff again.
“Don’t cry, Valentine.” He swipes another tear away.
I shift, and the stuff in my lap crinkles. “I broke the bowl.”
He looks down, noticing the dish I’m still holding.
“We’ll fix it.” Dom lifts his hands and settles them over mine so we’re holding the bowl together. But the position pushes my palms against the wood and causes me to wince.
Dominic jerks his hands back so fast it’s like I burned him.
“Sorry.” I apologize, even though I know I shouldn’t. But I don’t like making him feel bad.
He takes the bowl from my grip and sets it on the bench next to me. Then he gently grabs my wrists and turns my hands palm up, revealing the angry scrapes and the couple spots of blood.
“Who did this?” Dominic’s voice is so level. It sounds so controlled.
But I don’t think it is.
“No one.”
“Valentine.” He lets go of one hand to grip my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Who touched you?”
I try to shake my head, but I can’t with his hold on me. “It wasn’t—”
Dominic leans in closer to me, and his eyes reveal the fakeness of his calm exterior. “If someone hurts you, I will kill them. Do not attempt to stop me.”
His words lace up around me, tightening and forcing away the last of my lingering panic.
“I fell,” I whisper.
He shifts closer. His abdomen pushes against my knees, and my leg gives a little jerk.
Dominic immediately leans away, his hands moving to my thighs as he looks down at the tear in my jeans on my right knee.
“Did someone push you?”
“No.” Another whispered admission. “I tripped over a stroller.”
He looks back up at me, careful to avoid my knee. “Are you okay?”
I nod. A few more tears break free at his tender tone.
“Why are you crying, Wife?” He slides his hands up my legs until he’s gripping me under my jacket, holding my hips.
“I—” I lower my eyes to my lap. “I thought maybe you left me.”
“Left you?”
I press my fingertips onto my thighs, wishing I had something to hold.
“I thought…” I stop to take a breath. “I was buying that bowl”—I gesture to it—“while your mom went to get a pretzel, but when I tried to find her after, she was gone. And then I couldn’t find her. And I tried to find you.” My voice hitches, and I feel so stupid, but I can’t help it. “You said there were so many of your people here, but I couldn’t spot anyone.” His thumbs rub circles on my hips. “I thought you left me.”
“Angel.” Dom shifts closer, carefully nudging my hurt knee aside. “I’m not going to leave you.”
My shoulders lift in the smallest shrug. “I know.”
“Valentine.” He waits for my gaze to meet his. “I’d choose you. You know that, right?”
I move my head from side to side, not understanding him.
Dom cups my cheek with his warm palm. “If there was no Alliance—never was—I’d still choose you.”
Those words…
My eyes close, then open, and he’s still there. Still before me.
“You make me feel special,” I tell him, my voice so full of emotion it spills between us.
He glides his thumb across my cheek. “Good.”
Someone carrying a bag of jingle bells walks past, the noise high and light. And I inhale, needing to tell him this one last thing. “My mom killed herself on Christmas Day.”
CHAPTER 62
Dom
I rise, scooping Valentine into my arms, then I sit on the bench where she just was.
“You should’ve told me,” I say with my lips against her soft hat. “We didn’t need to come here. You should’ve told me.”
“I want to like Christmas.” Her words are so quiet they make me hold her tighter.
My wife… The shit she’s been through. All by herself.
“You’ll never be alone, Angel. Not on holidays. Not ever,” I swear to her.
“I’m okay,” she says with her head against my chest.
“We’ll get the bowl fixed,” I promise.
“It’s okay.”
I pull a pair of dirty white mittens out of my pocket and hand them to her. “And we’ll get these cleaned.”
She lifts her hands to take them, and I’m not sure if she even realized she dropped them.
When I found her mittens on the gravel, my first instinct was to burn the whole market to the ground. But then I spotted her, the white of her hat calling to me.
It’s my fault.
This is all my fault.
I didn’t realize I’d kept her phone until it was too late.
I didn’t put together the dates of her story on my own. I should have. Her nineteenth birthday. Waiting to visit until classes were done. I should’ve figured it out. And I should’ve known her bitch of a mother would choose fucking Christmas Day.
I should have done better.
I owe Valentine better.
Val tries to sit up, but I keep her secured to me.
“I really am okay.” She gently puts her mitten-covered hand against my chest. “It was just a stupid panic attack.”
“There’s nothing stupid about it.” I kiss the top of her head. “I’ll do better.”
“No, Dom, this isn’t something you did.”
“I’ll do better,” I tell her again. “And we’ll make our own traditions.”
I feel her exhale. “Okay.”
“Uh, Boss.” A male voice cuts into our space.
I lift my head to find Ben standing a few feet away from us. “What?”
His eyes don’t drop below mine, making sure he doesn’t look at my wife. Good man. “We have a location.”
I sit up straighter. “Local?”
He nods. “Rob is getting the cars ready. Told me to come get you.”
Val presses against my chest to sit up, and I finally let her.
“I’ll be right there,” I tell Ben, dismissing him.
Her eyes are full of worry as she blinks up at me. “The bad guys?”
Jesus, this woman.
The edge of my mouth quirks. “Yeah, Shorty. I gotta go get the bad guys.” She said it as though I’m not also a bad guy. But I’m not an idiot, so I’m not going to remind her that I’m one, too. “I’ll have a group of my men bring you home. Same rules as always.” I know she doesn’t need the reminder, but I want to say it anyway.
“Okay,” Val agrees, and when I loosen my arms, she climbs off my lap.
I carefully take her hand in mine, and we walk around the edge of the market toward my row of waiting vehicles.
Guiding her to the middle of three SUVs, I turn her to face me. “An older man and his wife will be waiting in the hallway outside the apartment for you. He’s my doctor, and he’s going to look at your hands and your knee and whatever other part of you is hurt.” She opens her mouth, but I shake my head. “This is happening. And I trust him, but his wife will be in the room with you, too. Don’t ever be alone with any man that isn’t me.” I gently grip her face in my hands. “They won’t survive my jealousy.”
