Chapter Four
The weeks blended together, and even though Dawg knew he was pushing himself to his limit, he didn’t stop, nor did he take what wasn’t freely offered. Each day, he got up and had breakfast, rarely sharing it with Lori. It depended on how early she decided she needed to leave his home. He’d watch her go, and he saw the shadows beneath her eyes.
She wanted him.
He saw it with how she turned to him just slightly whenever he touched her. There were also the telltale signs in her eyes. The way they dilated, and the need that stared up at him. It made him ache, and he wanted her. It would be so easy to take her, to show her exactly what she wanted, but that wasn’t what would happen.
Even though his dick was ready to burst, he refused to make the first move.
He could wait.
Lori already had a low opinion of him, and he wasn’t about to make her think anything less of him. Not now.
He was so close to winning her over, and he refused to screw anything else up. While she worked, he took care of business.
It had been a slow couple of weeks, but he knew that would turn. Whenever everything seemed to be running smoothly, that was when something went wrong. He wanted to keep a close eye on it, and he also wanted to find out what skeletons were in Lori’s closet, which was why three weeks after taking her, he entered the brothel where he had Sean working.
They’d broken his hand, and one part of his face was slowly repairing.
Pulling him down to the basement, his brother shoved Sean into the seat and stood back.
Straddling the chair, Dawg stared at the father of the woman who had completely captured him.
“I have nothing more to give,” Sean said.
They both knew the amount of money this fucker had taken. Most people would have been killed, or he’d have all of their family working for him.
“I want information,” he said.
“What?”
“That’s right. I want information about your daughter.”
Sean’s face went even paler, and again, Dawg knew that he was onto something. Glancing at his brother, he saw the raised brow. Paul thought he was going crazy. That he didn’t know a good woman when he saw one.
“I’ve got nothing to say.”
“Something happened to Lori, Sean. I want to know what. There’s no police report, no incidents ever recorded. Nothing. She made a point of saying that she didn’t want your blood on her hands. Whose blood does she have?”
Sean shook his head.
Dawg was growing bored of being made to wait, so he grabbed his gun.
“I’m guessing there’s no love lost between you and Lori. She can’t stand you, and she hasn’t once asked if you’re okay, or what has happened to you. I could kill you and I don’t even think she’d cry at your funeral.” He prepared the gun and pointed it at him.
“I promised,” Sean said.
“What?”
“My wife asked me for many things. She wanted me to be a good husband, a loving father, and I fucked up. I treated her like shit, but she said if anything was to ever happen to her, I was to take care of Lori. My little girl.” There was a sob in Sean’s voice.
“Tell me what the fuck happened.”
Sean shook his head. “I … I told her I wouldn’t tell anyone. That she didn’t have to be afraid.”
“I’m not the police, Sean. I’m not going to hurt Lori.”
“You know what, this is boring, and I want to know the answer.” Paul grabbed a crowbar, and lifting it over his head, he slammed it down on Sean’s hand.
Sean screamed, pulling away.
The chair flung back as Paul raised the bar once again and slammed it on Sean’s foot. The sound was sickening and echoed off the walls.
“She killed someone!” Sean screamed the words, and Paul was about to bring the bar down as Sean confessed.
“Who?”
“The night her mother died. I’d gotten into debt with some bad people. I’d had threats before, but I figured my family was safe. A sort of honor, but … they went to my home, and my wife was there, waiting for me. She was always waiting. The men I owed money to sent one man to my home as a warning. He … attacked her. Lori came home to find him … raping her mother, who was already dying at that point.” Sean stopped, and Dawg saw the pain in his eyes. “I kept weapons around the house just in case. Knives, bats, guns. Lori didn’t know how to use either. I don’t know what she saw. I only knew that when I got home, one man was dead and Lori was covered in blood, holding my dead wife, her mother.” Sean sobbed through the pain.
“There was no other body on the report,” Dawg said.
“I got rid of it. Paid to have it burned. There’s no trace. I couldn’t … she tried to save her mother when I should have been the one there. I failed, and she had to pay the price. No one took any tests of her clothing. She’d just held her dead mother. I told them the attacker clearly escaped before she got there, or she scared him off. No one knows. Just me, Lori, and God.”
Paul dropped the crowbar and looked toward Dawg.
“Don’t … please don’t hurt her. She had a shitty father and had to live with me in her life. Men coming at all hours, turning the house over for money. Please, don’t hurt her. I beg you.”
Dawg didn’t say a word. Leaving the basement, he headed out to the car where Paul joined him.
“Are you okay?” Paul asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You were right.”
“Of course I was right. I’m always right.”
****
Work and life went by as if nothing had ever changed, which surprised Lori because to her, everything had changed. She lived with a man who now owned her, and yet, he only held her at night. They shared meals together, and they talked often. He’d even text her, and she loved their conversations. In those moments she could forget who she was and who he was. They were two different people enjoying each other’s company.
Entering his home, she smelled the delicious aroma of meat and garlic. Her mouth watered, and as she entered the kitchen, she found Paul and Dawg talking, which they stopped the moment they saw her.
“Good day at work?” he asked.
“Yes, it was good. You?”
“Can’t complain.”
She bit her lip, but didn’t say anything more.
“Well, that got awkward really fast,” Paul said.
“I didn’t know you could cook,” she said, trying to make the effort for it to be less uncomfortable.
Dawg smiled, and she saw that smug smirk that she wanted to wipe off his face, but equally see it there as well. He had this way about him that always made her want to do two different things at once, and there was no way that wasn’t confusing. Even to her.
“Take a seat, sweetheart. Dawg has always been able to cook. His mother taught him everything she knew.”
“I didn’t know you had parents.”
“I had parents,” Dawg said.
She looked toward him expecting an explanation, but all she got was a stony scowl.
“They were killed. Someone ran them off the road years ago. My mom died of a drug overdose not long after. Dawg took over the business, and seeing as I’m his half-brother since we shared a father, he keeps me around,” Paul said.
She didn’t look away as Dawg kept staring at her. She thought about her mother, and she couldn’t look at him anymore. Even now, nearly five years after her death, she still got chills over that night.
Dawg moved away, and she watched him open the fridge. Paul kept on talking, and she noticed out of the two brothers Paul was the one that couldn’t stand long silences.
A glass of wine was placed in front of her. “It’ll help you to relax.”
She thanked Dawg, and watched him work again.
Every now and again Paul would ask her opinion, and she’d give it, but her focus was on one man and one man alone.
He’d removed his jacket and the shirt sleeves were rolled up, showcasing his ink. The only time she saw him partially naked was a few precious seconds before the light went out.
A band of black ink circled each wrist, like a chain, and the ink ran up his arms in intricate designs. There had been many times she wanted to trace those lines, but she held herself back.
When she’d signed that contract a few weeks ago, she had thought her life would change completely. Other than where she lived, nothing actually changed. She still went to work, came home, ate. The only difference was the man she spent time with.
Running fingers through her hair, she sipped at her wine, enjoying the fruity taste, which showed its quality.
It didn’t take long for their meal to be served, a homemade lasagna with a side salad. She loved this meal so much. Her mother would make it as a special treat.
She inhaled the aromas, and felt like she’d gone home.
Paul and Dawg kept on talking, and she relished every single bite of her meal. When it was over, Paul said his goodbyes, and they both watched him leave.
She was acutely aware of how close Dawg stood.
“Would you like to join me for a drink?” he asked, suddenly moving to his study.
It was on the tip of her tongue to refuse, but she found herself agreeing.
Taking a seat in his study, she waited as he poured them both a drink, and admired the floor to ceiling length of book shelves.
“Have you read every single one of these titles?” she asked.
“No. It has been Paul’s mission to fill all the shelves.” She watched as he pointed toward his desk and moved to three shelves. “I’ve read those. Everything else I don’t have a clue what it is.”
She chuckled.
“You don’t read a whole lot?” he asked.
“Not since high school. I was a bit of a bookworm. My mom loved books, but because Dad had a bad reputation she never joined a local book club. They always turned her down.” Lori shrugged. “I’d read the books, and every Friday night we’d sit and have a couple of hours of talking about the book.”
“It sounds like a lot of fun.”
“It was. Dad was always out most of the time. I know it upset her a lot.” Lori didn’t know why she was talking about her past with him. She bit her lip, trying to gain control of her emotions. The last thing she wanted to do was cry. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Your mom sounds like one hell of a woman.”
“She was. She deserved a lot better.”
“You’re angry?”
“Yes. Dad never loved her. Not really. He … cheated, and gambled, and cost her so much, and still, she stayed with him. The few times he stayed home, she was happy. I know she was.” She took a deep breath, cleared her throat, and shook her head. “Let’s not talk about that. I don’t want to cry all over you, and thinking about my mom makes me cry.”
Dawg took a seat next to her. “You can cry on my shoulder anytime you want. There’s no shame in it.”
“I thought men like you didn’t appreciate women crying or getting highly emotional.”
“Did you ever allow yourself to cry after she died? Have you ever taken the time to actually think about everything? Or do you just keep going? Moving from one thing to the next?”
She stared at him, and she didn’t like how close he was to understanding her. Dawg placed his arm across her shoulder, and she rested her head against him, feeling his warmth. She didn’t want to lose this feeling of safety that he inspired.