Bad Boy Dom (6 page)

“Do
you really think two wrongs make a right?” Damian asked.

I
laughed. It wasn’t funny.

The
next drink slid in front of me but before I could grab it, Damian grabbed and
swallowed.

“Christ,
what is this shit?” I was surprised he didn’t spit it out.

“It’s
warm Mountain Dew with a hot lemon twist.”

“Is
my vodka too high class for you?”

“I
don’t drink alcohol. Or, did you forget?”

“I
didn’t but that fucking shit needs to be chased with alcohol. Sorry I can’t
join you in your sobriety but I really need a cold one.”

“At
least you can’t be kicked out of your own club.”

“That’s
what you think. My wife would kick me out of the hotel using her spiky high
heels and not look back. I’m only glad our baby needs a father. Lydia is pretty
pissed off right now.”

“Will
Angela be okay?” After what I saw, I might never be.

“She’s
stronger than you think. This would have been very bad a year ago.”

“You
don’t think that was bad?”

“From
what my wife tells me, the episodes have slowed and actually improved.”

“Is
the person who did this to her someone I can kill?”

“No,
or they would already be dead.” Damian’s voice was flat.

“That’s
good and bad. I really need to feel bone crunch beneath my hands.”

“I
know but I would hope by now the shit you just drank would have taken off the
edge for violence.”

“Will
your wife ever let me within a hundred yards of Angela again?”

“After
what you saw, do you think you should be?”

“Staying
away isn’t an option.”

“Well,
then, I guess you’re lucky our daughter likes you and you’re capable of singing
her to sleep.”

“I’ll
work on my lullabies.”

“That’ll
help. Are you going to tell me what happened?”

“I
asked her out on a date, sang Sinatra, and rapped some Eminem.”

“I
guess we’re lucky she didn’t blow her brains out.”

“Ha
ha, you’re so funny. Do you mind if I order another drink without you rudely
confiscating it?”

“I
don’t plan on touching anything you’re drinking unless hell freezes over. I
don’t think my taste buds could survive another shock of that magnitude.”

I
ordered another and we sat in silence, until the whispers and glances began to
weigh on me. Damian must have felt them, too, for he suggested we get out
there.

“Do
you have a destination in mind?”

“My
office. We can order more of your piss and maybe I can enjoy another beer.”

“You’re
on.”

Even
with the heavy office door, the low thrum of bass thumped into the room. I
needed it. Music was my world. Damian pulled a two-liter Mountain Dew from
behind the bar and I was now drinking straight from the bottle.

I
couldn’t delay the discussion any longer. “Are you going to tell me what the
hell is going on?”

Damian
took a long pull from his beer. “Angela’s biological father died when she was
young. Afterward, her mother brought a string of boyfriends through her
apartment. Some were okay and others were not.”

“Define
‘were not.’”

“Child
Services removed Angela from her mother when she was nine. They took her after
she told a teacher the man in her house touched her inappropriately. He’d been
there for two years. The touching was more than just simple touching. Angela
was no longer a virgin. She went to foster care for a year but finally her
grandparents were located and she was turned over to them.”

“Fuck.”
I stood up and began pacing. “Is he dead?”

“Yes,
her mother killed him.”

“What?”

“She
died too, after six years in prison on a twenty-year sentence.”

I
sat back down and placed my face in my hands on the desk. I looked back up
after a few minutes.

“She
told me Sinatra and Eminem made her cry.” It was a stupid thing to say but my
brain wouldn’t wrap around what Damian told me.

“You
know you would both be better off without the other. Both of you are thoroughly
fucked up.”

“Yeah,
I know. But I can’t get her out of my mind. It’s not just her looks, it’s like
she’s calling to me on some level I don’t understand.” I looked straight into
Damian’s gaze. “And I’m much stronger than you think.”

“Of
that I have no doubt. She’s strong, too, but two good people don’t always make
a good couple.”

“I
won’t give up.”

“And
you think a vanilla date will take care of all your problems? Angela doesn’t do
vanilla.”

“What
does she do?”

“Resists
pain, buries it. She feels too deeply and holds it inside until it explodes
like it did tonight. She has a steady therapist and she’s been better since
Lydia collared her. She needs to belong, she needs to be wanted, and to add
gasoline to the fire; she hates her beauty. The child molester told her how
beautiful she was every time he raped her.”

Lead
weights grabbed my feet and I sank under the murky water in my mind. Maybe I
wasn’t strong enough after all.

“Christ,
I don’t know if I can give her the pain she needs. I haven’t touched a woman in
that way since Dixie.”

“Nicole
didn’t complain.”

“She
only wanted a little slap and tickle. I kept her busy thinking of other
things.”

“That’s
what Angela needs most; other things to think about and other things to live
for.”

“You
sound like you might actually be on my side.”

“Hell,
my wife’s going to cut off your balls and serve them for dinner. She’s in the
same room with me when I sleep so hers is the only side I’m taking.”

“I
hope you’re joking about the balls.”

“It’s
the red hair and my daughter has it too. I’m a man walking the Green Mile most
days. If I can get her pregnant again with a boy this time, I might be able to
even the score. But right now, I’m completely outnumbered.”

“What
if the next one’s a girl too?”

“I
almost have enough money to buy myself a trip into outer space.”

“I
only see you with a pack of redhead goddesses.”

“Stop
or I’ll throw you to the lions. And, speaking of lions, it’s time we entered
the den.”

Chapter
Twelve

Angela…

I
had my own room in the penthouse but Damian took me into his bedroom. I’d slept
between Damian and Lydia twice before but that was over six months ago. It
wasn’t about sex then, only safety. It always amazed me how accepting Damian
was of his wife’s sub.

I
heard him speak softly on the phone to the doctor before kissing his wife and
walking away.

“Did
you go to your therapy appointment today?” Mistress Lydia asked.

“No,
Mistress.”

“Then
we need to talk about that first.”

“I
cleaned my apartment.”

“You
should have called me.”

“Yes.
Mistress. I should have.”

“You
didn’t cut yourself.”

“I
kept my promise.”

“Not
completely, but you tried.”

“I’m
sorry, Mistress.”

Her
hands went to my shoulders and I felt instant relief at her touch. “Did you see
Krispin outside the club?”

“Yes.
Mistress. He was in the lounge but I was there first and couldn’t get past
without him seeing me. I tried to hide.”

“What
did he say to hurt you so badly?”

“He
asked to take me out on a real date. Only a date.”

“And
you told him?”

“I
told him I belonged to you and I could only go if you agreed.”

“But,
you want to go?”

“Yes.”
My tears started falling again. More than anything I wanted to be normal. I
wanted more.

“Was
that it, was that all that happened?”

“He
sang Sinatra and Eminem.”

I
could hear the smile in her words, “I guess I won’t kill him then.”

“He
only sees my pretty face, but now he’ll see the ugliness too.”

“Hmm,
out next session will be painful but right now I want you to tell me one good
thing about yourself.”

Mistress
had attended a few therapy sessions with me and this was one of the coping
skills the therapist told her about. “I don’t weigh enough to break your
husband’s back when he picks me up.”

She
laughed and relief slowly began sinking into my body.

“Tell
me another, but this time, do better.”

“Krispin
sniffed my hair and I told him he was weird.”

“Give
me another.”

“I
looked at the knives but walked away.”

“Another.”

“Abigail
loves me.”

“We
all love you.”

“Yes,
Mistress.”

She
lay on the bed holding me and quietly recited all the good things she thought
of me until the doorbell rang. I heard Raul’s voice and then Dr. Marks entered
the bedroom. Lydia told him in detail what happened. He sat on the side of the
bed and took my pulse speaking softly, asking me questions.

“You
did well, Angela. I would like to give you something so you can sleep.”

“Yes,
Sir.”

I
barely felt the sting in my thigh and knew the drug would take over quickly. I
closed my eyes and waited for him to leave. A few minutes later, the doctor was
gone but Mistress’s “fuck no” made me aware that everything wasn’t okay. My
heavy eyelids opened.

Mistress
blocked the door. I could blearily see Damian and Krispin behind her and I
tried to sit up.

Damian
took Lydia and moved her from the doorway. My vision doubled and two Krispins
kneeled down beside the bed. It made me laugh. But then, for just a moment, my
vision cleared. He wasn’t laughing. His eyes stared deeply into mine.

“I’ll
never sing Eminem to you again but I still want my date.”

The
world went black.

***

Waking
up, I realized I was no longer in Lydia and Damian’s bed. I was in my penthouse
bedroom. I rolled over and saw blue-jeaned legs resting in the chair beside me.
His head was slanted at an awkward angle, propped up by his hand, and he slept.
I hated the word “beautiful” but for the first time in my adult life, I admired
beauty. His features weren’t perfect; his nose was just a tad too large, his
lips a little too full for a man, but the combination made him appear perfectly
beautiful. I could watch him like this for hours.

I
had no idea why he was here. He shouldn’t be; the further away from me, the
better for him.

My
stomach flip-flopped. I wasn’t sure if I would make it to the bathroom as I
scrambled from the bed. Warm hands pulled the hair away from my face as the
contents of my stomach spewed into the toilet. I wanted to die.

When
the nausea passed, his strong arms pulled me back and before I knew what
happened I was sprawled in his lap on the bathroom floor.

The
hot teasing whisper of his breath hit my ear: “That was truly disgusting.”

“Please
just let me die without further embarrassment.”

“Hmm,
I’ll think about it but you owe me a date first.”

“There’s
puke in my hair, some on my chin, and my head will need to be shaved to remove
the knots from not being combed after last night’s shower. I’m ready for the
date whenever you are.”

I
loved his laugh. “How soon can you be ready?”

“An
hour?”

“Twenty
minutes.”

“You’re
crazy.”

“I
only require you brush your teeth. The vomit and tangles I can handle.”

“Let
me up. Please.”

He
stood. It wasn’t graceful and for a moment I thought we would both pitch
forward and fall into the toilet, but he managed to catch me in his arms. He
walked me into the bedroom and made sure I was stable on my feet before leaving
the room.

It
took me thirty minutes, but he was waiting in the living room when I came out.
It was six-thirty in the morning and the penthouse was quiet.

“I
left a note so your mistress doesn’t skin my balls.”

“Did
you tell her where we’re going?”

“No,
just that I was taking you on a date.”

“At
six-thirty in the morning?”

“Vanilla
dates in the morning, kinky dates at night.”

It
was impossible not to smile.