Page 12 of One Last Rainy Day
Studying the house, I swallow the fact that my parents’ expectations were probably so low that their humble ambitions had them living in a home only a fraction of this size. At this point, my brother and I could buy this mansion hundreds of times over without losing an ounce of sleep. Tobias put us in the position to make it possible. If he hadn’t taken the risks he has—and is still taking in France—where the fuck would we be?
Light years behind where we are now. And still, neither of us has a real place we call home to this day.
In the few seconds that pass with these thoughts, I can feel Cecelia’s slight hesitation to exit my car, as if she can sense what I’m feeling.
She knows.
Ignoring the second time the whisper crosses my psyche in the last twenty-four hours, I catch her eyes back on me after she exits the car and thanks Tyler. In the brief exchange, remorse again threatens, this time twice as strong as the rest of my known facts about Cecelia flit in.
Like me, she was neglected and sometimes left to fend for herself due to her mother’s indulgent taste for variety in bed and bouts with alcoholism. Like me, Cecelia was also stuck raising an adult. A commonality that has mebreaking our connection as Tyler bids her a saccharine-filled goodnight.
Even he’s not immune to her.
The ink loses again.
And fuck both Sean and Tyler for it.
The inkexistsbecause of her father.
Fuck them both for forgetting it.
I’m sure as hell not going to.
Tipping point approaching, I jerk my chin to Tyler. The second he closes his passenger door, I press the gas, fury boiling through me as I catch sight of Cecelia in the rearview, staring, still fucking staring.
“Easy, man,” Tyler says as if he’s speaking to a rabid canine. “I get that you’re pissed off.”
“You get nothing,” I snap, taking the hard right onto the main road. “What’s pathetic is you and Sean both think you have a personal stake in this, but right now, I’m paying the price because, in truth, you fuckingdon’t.”
“That’s not fair, man, and fuck you for saying it. You know—”
“Do yourself a favor and save your speech.”
In my peripheral, I see him tense in his seat as I start to drive like I fuck.
“Damnit, Dom, you’re not the only one in the fucking car!”
He continues as I floor the gas while he tries to reason with me.
“I know she wasn’t part of the plan, and you’ve been put in a fucked-up position, but this isn’t the way to handle it.”
He’s reaching, and he knows it. Because of Sean, I’m being forced to entertain the daughter of the man who fuckingmurdered my parents for knowing he was a thief. Pulling back up to the garage, I brake hard, skidding my Camaro to a stop as the gravel kicks back on the body. With a glance toward the building, what’s been festering since the moment I laid eyes on Cecelia starts to overflow. Tyler challenges me on that front as I turn to him in a state of rage. “You’re going to make me say it?”
“You’re too fucking smart for this, Dom.”
“It’s apparent you’re not,” I clip. “Get the fuck out.”
“I’m not leaving you like this. Just park, hand me the keys, and talk to me.”
“I’m not asking.”
“He didn’t know, Dom.”
“What the fuck is going on?” Sean sounds from behind Tyler, alarm in his tone, no doubt forher.
Glancing over Tyler’s shoulder, I lock eyes with the person closest to me and see red. If I don’t leave right fucking now, the damage may be irreparable between us. Sean seems to glimpse it in my expression when Tyler finally exits my car. Sean starts at a dead run, calling my name as I race out of the parking lot.
In the next minute, I go black. It’s only when I lose control of the wheel—spinning out in the middle of the road—that I come to, taking control enough to pull over. Stumbling out the driver’s door, I find myself in a freshly cropped field as my chest heaves. Staring up at the starless sky above, I pinpoint what set me off.
