Laiken

It's getting late when I finally head back to the house. If I have any complaints about the season, it's how everything gets dark so much earlier. The short, squat lights stuck along the walkway circling the house make the cement shine like a serene lake.

The closest entrance is the kitchen one. I reach for the bronze handle, eager to get access to the warm interior. Through the glass I see people standing by the granite island. Annie, Silas, and Vahn are all gathered together. There are wine glasses in their hands, a maid setting plate after plate of breads and cheese on the island. I have no idea why Vahn is here—but I decide not to burst in on their little party.

Turning away, I jog around the house until I reach the driveway. I expect to see parked cars or maybe a security guard and his dog. But no, fate has something more sinister planned for me.

In spite of the cool weather, Dominic is doing push-ups on the pavement. It's like someone set up a trap at both entrances, just for me. I debate slipping backwards around the house. Could I go hide out in the preserve until one of my ways inside is clear?

You don't have to be afraid of him, I tell myself.

But I'm not afraid. Maybe that's the problem.

His gray pants help him blend into the ground. The way he drops - elbows bent, nearly tasting the cement before forcing himself back up with a grunt, over and over again - is hypnotic. I watch for a fraction longer than I should. It's hard not to. The guy really is incredible looking.

A burst of cold wind buffets me. Shivering, I command myself to walk towards him and the front doors. “Hi,” I say lightly.

Dominic locks his elbows. His legs are ramrod straight behind him, his ass tight and perfect. Even dowdy gray gym pants can't disguise that. It's rare that I get to stand over him. It gives me a funny thrill, this brief, little taste of power.

Then he smiles, and I know my power is pretend.

Even if he's lying at my feet, Dominic is always in control. He's not subservient; he's a crocodile stretched on its belly in the shadows, waiting to take a bite out of me. “Did you need something?” he asks.

I hug myself tightly, shrugging. “Not really. I was just heading inside, and you're—you know, in my way. Didn't want to be rude and ignore you.”

He arches his eyebrows smugly. I'm amazed he's still holding himself in his upright push-up position. My arms would be shaking by now. “Ignore me. Huh. That's why you spent three minutes spying on me from over there?” He nods towards the side of the house.

My whole face burns with shame. “I wasn't spying. I was . . .”

“What?” he asks, leaping smoothly to his feet. He looms over me, his cockiness insufferable and somehow exciting. “If you weren't spying, what would you call staring at me when you think I don't know you're there?”

“I was shocked! I didn't expect you to be out here in the dark and cold doing your damn push-ups.” Pulling my arms around my chest, I dig my nails into the soft fabric. “Is this really how you like spending your free time?”

He scrunches up his forehead. “You think I do this for fun?”

“Why else do it?”

“Habit.” Rolling his shoulders, he bends his neck side to side. He isn't wearing the same self-assured expression anymore. “I did drills like this every single day at school. It's one of the only things left that makes me feel—” he stops himself. “Normal.”

Shit. Why is my heart beating so fast?

It's because you know what he's feeling. You run to the preserve every single time you can because when you're there, you can pretend you're back home.

“Sorry,” I whisper.

His laugh has a razor edge. “What do you have to apologize for?”

“I wasn't trying to make you feel bad.” My eyes dart towards his, meeting them, searching them. “I understand how that is - clinging to the things that are normal. Or as close as we can get.”

His chest rises and falls in a gentle pattern. Suddenly his ribs flare, his body straining with his sour laughter. “Nothing about me will ever be normal.”

My heart breaks for him.

“But,” he whispers, his voice sliding over my skin like rich cream. “You said you didn't want to make me feel bad. Does that mean you want to make me feel good?”

We're essentially alone on the front steps. Security guards are patrolling the perimeter, their flashlights glowing on the grass as they walk, but they're far enough away that they might as well be fireflies. The painted glass door is to our left, looking warm and safe and a thousand miles away.

He backs me against the wooden post beside the steps. His broad body shields me from the wind, not that it matters—I'm not cold at all anymore. Not a single part of him is touching me, but I tremble anyway, my cable-knit sweater seeming too thin.

I close my eyes, focusing on the darkness, wishing it didn't remind me of him. “You know Kara wants me to stay away from you.”

“Oh, she's definitely made it clear she hates me.” His warm breath strokes my cheek. “But you don't. Do you?”

I take small, desperate breaths. “I want to.”

His silence drives me crazy. I'm itching to open my eyes and see what he's doing, to read his expression. I know if I look at him right now, I'll be lost. I'll give in. I'm so close to doing it already. “Don't pretend you're not as tortured by this as me, Laiken. I want you more than anything else in this world. Did you forget what we did in the rain?”

When he brings that up, two things happen: my thighs push together, hugging the memory of his solid body as he crushed me in the dirt, and a jolt of sorrow slices down my middle. It disconnects me from the pleasure, letting me open my eyes to stare at his smoldering black pools. “I'll never forget that, Dominic. It's impossible. I also can't forget who you were before you became . . . this.”

His head snaps backwards, like I head-butted him. “What?”

“You destroyed someone's life.” I think of Wyatt with tears staining his cheeks. I imagine Vahn, bent in two, crying for his lost son. “Your uncle is inside, right now, acting as normal as he can be while living in pain because of you.” It's ripping me apart from my bones and beyond to say this, but I can't keep it in. “I don't want to hate you. I want to believe there's a chance you didn't do what everyone keeps insisting you have. That you’ll tell me you've done!”

I take a step towards him, and to my amazement, he backs up. Has he ever retreated from me before? “Dominic,” I say, my voice, my heart, both quaking together. “You can boast that my body wants you, you can blame me for being weak, but that's not why I keep letting you get close. I do it because I'm still hoping you'll give me a reason to believe you're not a monster. One reason, an excuse, anything. Please.”

The sky is pitch black. Light filters through the windows, but it doesn't reach him.

Nothing can.

Dominic lifts his head, giving me a wary stare. His irises are swirling with turmoil, a powerful force that's ready to explode out, too much for one person to contain any longer.

Expectation keeps me quiet. Waiting. So sure he's about to tell me what I keep begging him for. Answers. Just give me answers. I've never needed something so much.

The door opens beside us. I turn, seeing Vahn standing half-inside, his face stretched in a long scowl when he spots us. “What's going on here?”

“Nothing,” Dominic answers, shaking himself. He gives me one more glance and then goes straight to his car where it's parked in the huge driveway. The headlights blast Vahn and me. With squealing tires, he reverses until he can spin around, flying towards the gate. It opens just before he crashes into it.

Vahn comes to stand near me. We both watch the gates creak shut. “Reckless, isn't he?”

I can't seem to tear my eyes away from where Dominic has vanished. “He didn't used to be.”

From the corner of my vision, I can tell he's watching me closely. It helps yank me from my daze; I shift, putting space between us, meeting his too-curious stare. “You have a soft spot for him.”

I hesitate too long. “No.”

Vahn cocks his head like he's realized something. “That's not what my sister thinks.”

I clench my teeth, not responding.

“Don't stress,” he says, his tone not at all comforting. “Dominic will be back. It's not like he has anywhere else to go.” Eventually he adjusts his heavy brown jacket, walking towards a red car nestled among the other black ones on the edge of the driveway.

As he drives away, his engine purring quietly, his tires not screaming like Dominic's had, I continue to watch the curved gates. I see them open then shut, and I will them to open once more, bringing Dominic back to me. But they don't.

Curling my arms around my upper body, I tremble until my teeth ache in my skull.

The world is so much colder without him.