Come On Over (23 page)

"It
was," Dominic says, feeling the confusion pushing through the
disappointment. He shifts where he sits, so that he's facing the TV, Killian on
his left. "I mean, that's basically what she said. She even specified that
I had
excellent references,
so I have
no idea what the hell this is supposed to be."

He
sighs heavily, covering his face with his hands. He feels numb, and oddly
humiliated.

"What
kind of reference?" Killian says, mostly to himself. He sounds oddly calm,
all of a sudden, contemplating. "From who?"

Dominic
shrugs, shaking his head.

"I
don't know," he says into his hands, before pushing them back through his
hair. "And I don't know what the fuck it could be about, either. As far as
I know, everyone I've worked with has been happy with what I've done. Not to
mention, one bad fucking reference shouldn't be enough to cancel out all the
excellent
ones."

He
can't help the angry bitterness that seeps into his voice, as he remembers Ms.
Oakley's words on the phone, the other day. He just doesn't understand.

Killian
taps the edge of the tablet with his fingers thoughtfully. Dominic barely
notices, is too preoccupied with this heavy feeling settling over his
shoulders. He should have known. He should have known it was too good to be true,
too easy.
Fuck.

Killian
suddenly gets up from the couch, starts pacing the apartment as he brings out
his phone. Dominic looks up, frowning.

"What
are you doing?" he asks, confused, but Killian doesn't reply. He presses
the call button and brings the phone to his ear, rubbing the back of his neck
as he waits. He seems restless, on edge, and Dominic can't help but wonder why.

No
one seems to pick up, and Killian curses under his breath. He scrolls through
his contacts, by the looks of it, before calling another number and waiting for
a response. No luck this time either, and he reacts a bit more strongly.

"Fuck,"
he practically spits, smoothing back his still damp hair as he takes a deep
breath. Dominic watches him from the couch, a frown on his face.

"What?"
he asks. "What's wrong?"

Killian
seems to deliberate for a moment. He has stopped pacing, just stares straight
ahead for a few seconds. Then he reanimates, turns to Dominic.

"Come
on," he says, putting his phone back in his pocket. "We're going on a
field trip."

Killian doesn't
say anything about where they're actually going. It's only after a short bus
ride downtown, about half-an-hour later, that Dominic can see the cold
determination on his face morph into something a lot more like anger, and it
only confuses him further.

"You
mind letting me in on the plan, here?" he says with some annoyance, as
they make their way from the bus stop and through the very busy streets they
now find themselves on. Killian still doesn't reply, just keeps walking
briskly, and Dominic rolls his eyes as he keeps up. He has no idea what's going
on, but he figures he should just roll with it.

They
stop when they reach a rather impressive-looking building, Killian taking a
sharp turn and pushing open the front doors, Dominic on his heels. Dominic
nearly stops dead when they get inside, his eyes immediately taking in the high
ceiling and impressive-looking lobby he suddenly finds himself in. There are
people in suits hurrying back and forth, and he feels incredibly out of place
in his outfit of worn-out jeans and a dark purple
hoodie
.
Killian, in contrast, seems to know exactly where he's going, and they walk
right past the reception desk near the entrance.

"Sir?"
a man at the desk says, trying to catch their attention. He sounds almost
tentative, and he stands up behind the counter, clearly speaking to Killian.
"Sir, I'm going to need to see some ID―"

Killian
doesn't let him finish.

"Fuck
off, you know who I am," he snaps, and judging by the way the receptionist
sits right back down without objection, he does. Dominic raises his eyebrows a
little in surprise, suddenly torn between feeling uncomfortable and very
inappropriately turned-on―best not to think about the latter option in a
lobby full of people. Then his attention falls on the very large letters on the
wall behind the reception desk, and his eyes widen a little;
Hayden & Clark.

He
speeds up a bit, so that he and Killian are walking beside each other.

"What
are we doing here, exactly?" he asks in a low voice, and Killian glances
at him. His expression softens the slightest bit for a moment, but the
determination is still there.

"Surprise
visit," he says tightly. "Gonna go see my dad."

The
elevator is packed with people, and Dominic feels oddly nervous as they wait
for it to reach the right floor. He's surrounded by suits and what appear to be
actual adults, and he hasn't felt more like a child since he actually was one.
Thankfully, the elevator ride isn't too long, and Killian leads the way through
the hallway of what seems to be the right floor. The decor reminds Dominic of a
fancy hotel for a moment, rather than a law firm, and he follows close behind
Killian as he single-mindedly makes his way past a slightly outraged-looking
young man and toward a specific office down the hall.

"Hey,
you can't just go in there," the young man says. He doesn't look much
older than Dominic or Killian, and Dominic guesses he's some kind of intern.
"You need an appointment―"

Killian
ignores him, practically slams the office door open and steps inside.

"Are
you fucking kidding me?" he says, voice loud and harsh as he stomps into
the room. There's an admittedly handsome, middle-aged man sitting behind a
desk, a window behind him showing a rather spectacular view, and he looks
mildly surprised at the interruption. The expression vanishes quickly, however,
replaced by slight exasperation instead. He looks over at the young man
hovering behind Killian and Dominic.

"Jude,
it's alright," he says. "It's just my son paying me a visit, for
once."

The
assumed intern, Jude, seems to hesitate, before deciding that the boss's orders
are the boss's orders, and he walks away, leaving the door open as he goes. The
man behind the desk, Killian's father, turns back to his guests.

"Killian,"
he says. "How nice of you to stop by."

"Oh,
don't give me that shit," Killian says. "You're the fucking
worst."

The
man looks displeased at the reply, rather than offended, and he glances over at
Dominic, who makes sure to stay at a reasonable distance, close to the door. He
can't help but feel incredibly unwelcome already, in this fine, expensive room
with bookcases filled with equally expensive-looking books and knickknacks
Dominic assumes are somehow relevant. He has no idea; just being here is
intimidating.

The
man's disapproving glare isn't helping his nervousness. Dominic glances at the
name plaque on his desk; it reads
Declan
Hayden
in stamped-out, golden letters. As he looks back at him, Dominic
determines that aside from a similar jaw line and what might be a similar
build, Killian doesn't really look anything like his graying father.

"I'm
sure I don't know what you're talking about," Declan says, turning back to
his son, who doesn't miss a beat.

"Bullshit,"
Killian says. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

He
takes a breath, straightening a little where he stands, but more as though he's
collecting himself, rather than backing down.

"I
gotta hand it to you though, you know how to get attention. I mean, going after
me is one thing, but him?" He points at Dominic, who doesn't even move.
"That's low, even for you."

Dominic
is confused. He can't really see how or why this has anything to do with
him―he has developed a few theories over the past half-hour, sure, some
of which are a little out there, but not even Killian's family can be crazy
enough to fit them. Right?

Declan
sits a little straighter, nonchalantly fiddling with a pen in his hands. It
looks streamlined and unnecessarily expensive, like it's made of gold.

"And
what makes you say that?" he asks calmly, clearly testing Killian's
patience.

"
Bad reference
?" Killian says
disdainfully in reply. "Really? You pulled the same crap with Bridget's
boyfriend in high school, and with that girl Connor had a crush on, like ten
years ago. It's kind of your calling card. And all because you want us to end
up with someone else, or just to make a point, for whatever
batshit
reason. You bring 'control freak' to a whole new level."

Dominic
feels his stomach drop, and his eyes dart back and forth between Killian and
his father, both of whom are momentarily ignoring him. It doesn't take much for
him to understand what Killian is implying; Declan used whatever contacts and
influence he has to yank a job opportunity right out from under him. He
suddenly feels like he should have taken Bridget's threat more seriously, as it
seems that his theories over the past half-hour weren't so far-fetched, after
all.

"Would
you calm down, for a second," Declan says, in a tone that's more
frustrated, than anything, his voice rising in volume.

"Don't
fucking tell me to calm down," Killian retorts, raising his voice to
match. That's as far as they get, however, before someone else appears in the
doorway of the office, no doubt summoned by Jude and then led by the
not-so-subtle arguing.

"What
the hell is going on, in here?"

Dominic
turns around at the sound of the unfamiliar voice, and is met by a tall man in
his late twenties, his dark suit as crisp and professional-looking as every
other Dominic has seen since they entered this building. Dominic wonders for
about a second who the man might be, but then he notices the not-so-unfamiliar
dark hair and green eyes, and he makes the connection, stifling a sigh at just
how many
Haydens
are suddenly popping up in his life.

Killian
looks over his shoulder.

"Dad's
being a bigger asshole than usual," he says. "So basically,
Tuesday."

The
man in the doorway sighs, pressing his lips together.

"Dad?"
he says, directing the question at the man behind the desk, and all eyes turn
to him.

"Don't
look at me," he says dryly. "He's just been yelling and cursing, ever
since he came in here."

He
gestures at Killian, who scowls.

"Yeah,
keep dodging, old man," he says. "I'm not the one who just tried to
wreck someone's future over wounded fucking pride."

Declan
puffs himself up, and Dominic would honestly probably find it funny if the
situation weren't so tense.

"Okay,"
the man in the doorway says, stepping into the room. He places himself between
Killian and the desk, holding his hands up in a disarming gesture. "Let's
just calm down for a second. What happened?"

"Connor,"
Declan says. "Would you please explain to your brother that it's nothing
personal. It's just business."

"Oh,
business?" Killian says, throwing his hands up with a exaggeratedly
incredulous expression. "Well, that makes it way better, doesn't it? I
mean, deliberately fucking with someone else to get to your son is pretty bad,
but as long as it's business―"

He
shrugs, and Dominic can practically taste the venom in his tone.

"It's
for your own good," Declan says, but his voice sounding as though his
intentions are anything but considerate. "We're all just hoping that
someday soon, you'll get this ridiculous idea out of your head, and give up the
lifestyle
you keep up just to
embarrass me."

"Oh,
my
lifestyle
?" Killian asks, the
scathing attitude not lost on anyone. "Which one? The one where I'm an
artist, or the one where I happen to like both pussy
and
dick? 'Cause honestly, I can barely even tell which one is
worse for you."

Declan
clenches his jaw, nostrils flaring―it clashes weirdly with his collected
appearance.

"Why
do you always have to be like this?" he says tightly. "You could have
a good life, you know. You
have
a
good life, if you'd just stop being such a child."

"You
don't know shit about my life," Killian says, taking a step forward, but
Connor brings a hand up to place against his chest.

"
Kil
, maybe you should leave," he says, and Killian frowns
at him incredulously.

"Are
you fucking kidding me?" he exclaims, gesturing at their father.
"He's the one who―"

"Just
wait outside." Connor's tone is firm, but diplomatic, and Dominic gets the
distinct impression that this is far from the first time a confrontation like
this has happened―and it's far from the first time that the eldest
brother has stepped in to calm things down.

Killian
snaps his mouth shut, grits his teeth, his gaze trained on his Connor's, whose
dark green eyes almost exactly match his own. Then he sighs in frustrated
defeat.