Page 219 of Wicked Savage Cruel
Oh. That was nice. “Okay. I’ll go see what I’ve got.” I hesitate. “After practice, are you taking me home?”
Some emotion flashes in his eyes, too fast for me to catch before he shakes his head. “No. You’re going to stay here.” Something like relief settles in me, but that’s strange. Why would I be relieved about staying here? I don’t like Dominique. We were literally fighting just a few days ago.
“For how long?”
He shrugs and goes back to his plate. “Until I decide you’re okay.”
My mouth tightens, and I consider arguing before my shoulders sag and I turn away. “Fine.” I head for the bathroom to shower. I’ll fight with him another day.
* * *
Dominique parksthe Escalade near the athletic building, and before I even unbuckle, he has my door open and is helping me out of the car.
Why is he being so nice? Nice and Dominique Price don’t go together. I mean, I know my mom just… the word stalls in my brain and I take a moment to breathe through it. Whatever the reason, I don’t want him to be nice to me. I need things to be normal. I don’t want his or anyone else's pity.
I tug my hand out of his as soon as I’m out of the car. He grabs a gym bag from the back and then we’re cutting across the parking lot to the main doors. Inside, I ignore the students in the halls and follow Dominique to the locker room. He opens the door and loud voices can be heard. Blocking my sight, he takes me down a row of lockers before stopping at a closed door. He pushes it open and checks inside before backing up and holding it open for me.
“Yo, Price!” someone calls.
“Give me a minute,” he shouts back. To me he says, “You can hang out here. No one will bother you.”
We step into a medium-sized room. There are a few sofas scattered around the room and a large flat screen T.V. mounted on one of the walls. “There’s a bathroom through that door.” He points to the left. “And I’ll have Coach hang on to my phone. If you need anything, call me. I’ll be done in an hour and a half. Two, tops.”
I nod and take a seat on the nearest sofa.
“You’re not going to wander off, right?”
“I’ll be here.”
He stares at me as if gauging my intent. “Good. If any of the guys come in here, tell them to get the fuck out. Got it?”
“Yep.”
He closes the door behind him and I take a steadying breath. I find a remote between the cushions and flick on the T.V., stopping on a Disney movie. I don’t have it in me to watch anything heavier than that. My phone rings. Aaron’s name flashes across the screen. Shit. I haven’t even talked to my brother yet. I should have. But I haven’t.
I’m not sure what to say to him, and I’m almost certain he hasn’t known what to say to me, but he’s in Florida handling things I know I’m not in the right headspace to handle, so I need to answer.
I hit accept and bring the phone to my ear. “Hey.”
He’s quiet on the other end before I hear him release a breath. “Hey.”
That one word, hearing his voice, has emotions clogging my throat. “You good?” I ask.
He forces a laugh. “I should be asking you that.”
Yeah. Maybe. “I’m okay.”
Another heavy breath. “That's good. Dom’s not being an asshole is he?”
A small laugh. “No. He’s being nice, which is … weird. I kinda wish he’d be an asshole.”
I curl my legs beneath me and sink into the sofa. “Are you calling because…” I swallow hard. “Did you need…” I don’t know how to get the words out.
“Yeah. Sorry. I wanted to ask if you were okay with Mom being cremated. It’s a lot easier to get her back if we do but if you don’t want that—“
“It’s fine,” I choke on the words.
“Are you sure?”
