Supernova (6 page)

“Bulldozing what?”

“The house, of course.”

Fire and brimstone surged through her blood. “Nobody’s tearing my house down, Jackson!”

He almost looked shocked by her words. “You don’t really expect me to live here, do you?”

She had had about all she could take of him. She had planned to wait until they could be alone to talk to him, but it didn’t appear anyone was around at the time. If they were in earshot, so be it. He said the wrong thing at the worst time, which was just perfect for her. Their little talk had been a long time coming, and she had absolutely no plan whatsoever of holding back any longer. She hoped and prayed to God that her father would hear every single word she had to say to Jackson so that he might finally learn what a fraud he truly was.

“No,
Jackie
,” she slurred his name venomously, knowing he hated it when people called him that. “I do not expect you to live here! I
never
had any intention of you living here with me! I never had any intention of marrying you, having your children, sharing my inheritance with you…none of that! How stupid do you have to be to honestly believe I would marry you when we’ve never even said we love each other!?”

Her rant drew the attention of Gabe, and he walked into the hallway. He positioned himself in the doorway like a sentry, probably waiting for his chance to attack.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Kerri,” Jackson said, trying to laugh it off like she was just crazy. “Look, it’s been a long day. And you’re all emotional because of the loss of your grandmother, a long flight, being inundated by paperwork at the attorney’s office, the funeral, and then coming back here. And there might even be a little PMS thrown in there too. Isn’t it time for your period?”

“Oh, no he didn’t,” Gabe said with a roll of his neck on his shoulders.

“Aaarrrgh!” Kerrigan screamed at Jackson’s audacity. “It’s over, Jackson! Get the hell out of my house! I can’t even stand to look at you anymore! And for God’s sake, eat a Tic Tac!”

Kerrigan marched past him and into the hallway, but he turned and hurried to catch up to her. Once he reached her, he grabbed her arm roughly and forced her to turn around to face him.

His face was twisted with hate as he snarled at her. “I’m not going anywhere, you little bitch! I’ve worked too hard to get here. Kissing your daddy’s ass, putting up with all your self-righteous bullshit, your faggot friend, and to top it all off…you suck in the sack! Which is ironic because you don’t actually suck, but you get the point. You’re a dead lay. And after all that, there’s no way in hell I’m going to let you just piss on me and kick me to the curb without a dime!”

“Take your money grubbing hands off of me!” She jerked her arm in an attempt to free herself, but it was a wasted effort. His grip was too tight, and he showed no sign of relenting.

“You heard the lady,” a deep voice growled from behind her. “Get your hands off her!”

Jackson’s eyes went wide when he heard the order and released his hold on her arm. Dominic ushered Kerrigan behind his back and stood in a protective stance between her and Jackson.

“Just who the hell do you think you are? That’s my
fiancée
, asshole!”

“I don’t care what she is to you. She’s a lady first and foremost, and she happened to be very vital to the woman I admired most in the world. I swore I would protect her with my life, and I intend to do just that. So if you want to put your hands on her again, you’re going to have to go through me. And I assure you, you
don’t
…want to
fuck
…with me.”

Kerrigan was both astonished and relieved by his threatening, yet protective words. He was fierce, and it was obvious he meant every word he said, but she wasn’t scared of him. The man was a stranger and could’ve gone all Hannibal Lector on everyone in the house, but she felt comforted by his presence. It made no sense at all, but she was.

“What’s going on in here?” Hudson asked as he and Priscilla joined the chaos. “And who is this?” he asked, motioning toward Dominic.

“Dad, this is Dominic. He was a friend of Grammy’s. Dominic was just explaining to Jackson why he should keep his hands off me.” Kerrigan smirked and eyeballed Jackson while she rubbed at her reddened wrist. She knew her father would never allow Jackson to treat her that way.

He lifted Kerrigan’s wrist to examine it. The little vein in his forehead popped out in anger. “You put your hands on my daughter!?”

“He wants to bring in a bulldozer and knock Grammy’s house to the ground,” Kerrigan continued. She didn’t even care that she sounded like a tattling child. “Oh, and he never asked me to marry him either. His goal this entire time was to wine and dine you until you were completely oblivious to his real intentions.

He knew Grammy was leaving me a sizable inheritance, because you spilled those little details to him when you went to get that safety deposit box. You wouldn’t have known about his scamming ways because he’s played the part oh so well, but he was looking to cash in. He doesn’t love me, and I could
never
love him. I just couldn’t fathom spending the rest of my life in a loveless marriage, so I just basically told him to kiss my ass and get out of my house.”

Kerrigan kept her eyes on Jackson, watching as he went pale and floundered for words to save his sorry butt.

“Jackson didn’t seem to like that too much, and apparently thought he could strong-arm me into staying with him until he reaps his reward for kissing your ass for the past three years. His words, not mine,” she clarified.

The expression on Hudson’s face morphed into disgust. She watched it turn three shades of red, none of which looked very healthy. Kerrigan would know that look anywhere. He was about to explode, and it wasn’t going to be pretty.

“Out!” He screamed at Jackson, pointing toward the front door. “You find your own damn way back to Chicago! And you can bet your sweet ass that I’ll be making a call to the bank’s president first thing in the morning to make sure he’s aware of how you manipulated one of their major clients!”

“You tell him, Daddy C!” Gabe cheered him on. “Bastard’s lucky Kerr Bear wouldn’t let me cut his pecker off and feed it to him.”

Just like the river rat he was, Jackson scurried past Kerrigan and Dominic and ran out the door. She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of satisfaction knowing that he would have to walk to find a hotel to stay in for the night because her father had the rental car.

Priscilla wrapped her arms around her daughter’s shoulders. “Are you okay, baby? I’m so sorry you had to endure that. Thank God this nice young man was here. Right, Hud?”

“Oh, yeah…um, thank you…” Hudson mumbled. His embarrassment over not being able to recognize the commie that had infiltrated his camp was evident all over his face, but Kerrigan wouldn’t make a big deal about it or make him feel even worse. His self-torment would be torturous enough without her adding to it. “I’m sorry, what’s your name again?”

“It’s Dominic, sir. And, it was no problem. Like I said, I made a promise to Availia, one I fully intend to keep. God knows I owe her more than that.”

“How exactly did you know my mother?”

“Let’s just say we were really good friends. She let me stay here when there was nowhere else I could go.” Dominic almost looked embarrassed by that fact. “The woman was a saint.”

“Hud,” Priscilla interrupted. “Why don’t you go start unloading Kerrigan and Gabe’s things so they can get settled in?”

“Okay, Prissy,” he answered, using the pet name he gave her.

Gabe followed him out the door. “Um, how many times do I have to tell you?
I’m
the prissy one in this family,” he said, the sound of his voice fading as they disappeared from sight.

Hudson had been really tolerant of Gabe’s behavior since he and his daughter had become such good friends. He knew he didn’t mean any harm, and most importantly, Gabe had always been there for Kerrigan through thick and thin. Hudson probably would’ve thought of him as a son if Gabe had ever acted the part, but as it were, Gabe would be more like a daughter than anything else.

“I’m just going to go get fresh linens for your bed.” Priscilla looked from Kerrigan to Dominic before she turned to leave them alone.

“Are you okay?” Dominic asked.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” She turned and walked back to the kitchen, her traitorous hands shaking as she opened the refrigerator to look for something to drink.

She was tired of everyone treating her like a child. Her father had done it her entire life, and she was finally going to be able to have some independence. There was no way she was going to let this guy, a complete stranger, start hovering over her as well. Regardless of the promise he had made to her grandmother.

“I didn’t need you to do that, you know. I can take care of myself.”

She reached inside and grabbed a bottle of beer. They must have been Dominic’s because she couldn’t recall Grammy ever drinking alcohol. Not that Kerrigan cared who they belonged to. They were in her house after all. She closed the door back and twisted the top off before tilting it to her lips and taking a long swig.

“Yeah, it sure looked like it. You may have thought you were being intimidating, but it was more like watching a gatita stare down a mountain lion,” Dominic chuckled.

“Gatita?”

“It’s Spanish for kitten.” His eyes lingered on her lips as she licked the beer from them. “I hope my beer tastes good because you sure as hell look good tasting my beer.”

Kerrigan’s head snapped up to glare at him. Her eyes narrowed into slits as she debated whether or not she was going to slap him. “You don’t know me well enough to be making comments like that, Mr. Grayson. You’d do well to remember that before you wake up to find yourself disfigured,” she warned with a nod toward his midsection.

“Ouch.” Dominic winced and covered himself with his hands. “I may have you pegged wrong after all.”

“A little help here!” Gabe shouted through the screen door.

Dominic and Kerrigan left the kitchen and went to the front of the house where Gabe was struggling to hold one small box in both of his hands. Hudson, however, was so loaded down with things they could barely see the top of his balding head. Kerrigan rolled her eyes because Gabe obviously could have opened the door on his own.

She sat her beer down on the table to reach for the door and caught a glimpse of Dominic out of her peripheral vision snatching the bottle back up. She turned toward him just in time to watch him put the bottle to his lips and take a drink before tilting it in her direction as if to thank her. Then he winked before sauntering toward the staircase with long strides until he disappeared again.

Kerrigan opened the door and took the feather-light box from Gabe’s baby bottom hands. “He’s going to be a major pain in the rear,” she murmured.

Gabe sighed wantonly. “Oh God, I hope so.”

Kerrigan Cruz.

Availia had adored her granddaughter. She talked about her almost constantly, like she was all she had to live for. Maybe she was. In the end, even that didn’t matter.

Kerrigan was nothing at all like what Availia had described. From first impressions, at least. It went without saying that Availia held her granddaughter’s life at a higher level of importance than even her own. The way she talked about her, it was like she was still an innocent child who hadn’t quite reached her full potential.

A child, she most certainly was not.

She had changed from her photos. Dominic thought she had been a cute young lady, but standing there face to face with her, he was able to see how much she had grown into a beautiful
woman
.

And she smelled so good.

He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, chastising himself for the primal urges a mere mental image of her could evoke. Her skin was creamy, her lips so full and pink. Her eyes – Jesus, they were hypnotic: catlike in shape and bathed in a milky blue. He had only seen that color on one other person, Availia. But where Availia’s eyes exuberated wisdom far beyond her age, Kerrigan’s were sensual and enigmatic. They drew him in and held him captive. A predator’s lure for its prey.

And she definitely had spunk. He admired that trait in a woman, even if it was a total contradiction to all the soft contours of her body. The way she handled, or tried to handle, that poor excuse of a man who referred to himself as her fiancé – really, it was downright adorable.

She was either going to be a whole lot of fun, or a major pain in the ass.

Dominic climbed the stairs to the second floor and opened the door that led to another set of stairs to the attic on the third floor. It had been renovated into a room, his room. It used to be Kerrigan’s playroom. A testament to Availia’s adoration of her granddaughter, she had left it just as it was – an homage of sorts. It wasn’t until he came to stay that she decided to change it and allowed him free reign over redecorating it, making it his own. That room had become his safe haven, but he felt like he was confined there, unable to truly be free. Although he was actually capable of coming and going as he pleased, it just wasn’t safe to do so.

The bleakness of the attic room was reduced with splashes of red and white on the walls. A black comforter was spread unevenly on a full-size bed that was placed on one side of the large room, and a matching black futon lined the wall on the other side. An aged wardrobe lined the far wall and was filled with several vintage rock tees and faded 501 Button Fly Levi’s. Dominic considered them the staples to his attire, along with a scuffed pair of Doc Martens. He didn’t even bother with underwear. The commando style made him feel less constricted, not to mention it helped save on the laundry. The only other belongings in his room were a modest stereo that sat in the corner between the window and the futon and an acoustic guitar that was propped against one of its speakers. The décor was sparse, but it was all he needed.

The guitar was his most prized possession. It had once belonged to Availia’s deceased husband, and she had given it to him after he moved into the house. He loved to listen to rock music and learned how to play the guitar by strumming along with some of his favorite bands. Many nights were spent sitting on the futon playing the old guitar, smoking a cigarette, and enjoying a cold beer. Short of having female company, he considered it the best way to pass the time.

Dominic sauntered over to the stereo to turn on his favorite AC/DC song,
Ride On.
The music spilled from the speakers, and the tense muscles in his body loosened as the beat filled the air. He turned toward the large double windows that faced the front of the house and opened them, letting the cool air flow through the stuffy attic room. The sun was sinking low in the sky, and he took a moment to relax as he sat on the wide windowsill and lit a cigarette. He savored the first draw of nicotine, parting his lips to let the smoke drift out his mouth in thick, ribbon-like curls before sipping leisurely on the now tepid beer.

He had climbed out that same window on many occasions, perching himself on the wood railing attached to the small balcony just to gaze up at the stars that scattered the night sky. For some people, haphazardly sitting in such a precarious position would’ve been a dangerous thing to do, but Dominic wasn’t some people. He was something else.

During the day, he observed the neighborhood families when they left to go to work, children as they played in their yards after school, or the occasional backyard cookout on the weekends. The activities he witnessed from his post on the balcony symbolized the freedoms that came from a normal life. As he watched those around him continue with their mundane routines, he wished he had the option to switch places with any one of them. Simple liberties that people seemed to take for granted just weren’t afforded to him.

It wasn’t like he could just jump in his car, motor across the state, and see the sights of the coast of Florida. Not if he wanted to stay safe. There were people out there that wanted to see him dead and would stop at nothing to make that happen. He sure as hell wasn’t going to make it any easier for them. Nope, he was a sitting duck.

He sighed and ducked back inside his room, butting the cigarette and taking another swig of his beer. He looked around the room. He hoped Kerrigan wouldn’t get too upset over the changes he had made, but he didn’t really care either way. With the exception of putting up with unnecessary bullshit, he had changed a lot over the past year because of Availia. He owed her his life, and Kerrigan had inherited his indebtedness. That didn’t mean he had to kiss her ass should she decide to go all mega bitch on him. Judging from the little show she had just put on downstairs, she was going to prove to be a little hellcat with a smart mouth.

Like he needed that bullshit on top of everything else he had to deal with. Still, he made a promise to her grandmother, and he didn’t take making promises lightly. That one fact had been a constant for the duration of his existence.

His life before Availia rescued him seemed like just a distant memory. So many days and nights he had spent on the streets, making business deals with some pretty nasty people, dabbling in things he had no business dabbling in. Dangerous things that he had come to regret.

He was more than surprised he had survived out there. Cubans can be some pretty ruthless people if you got on their bad side, but luckily for him, he hadn’t made any enemies among them. In fact, Ricardo, the lead man of the St. Augustine division of the Cuban Mafia, had taken him under his wing and treated him like a son. He had found Dominic wondering the streets and offered him a job. His desperation made him ruthless, and Ricardo took full advantage of that fact. He quickly learned that the happier Ricardo was with the work he did, the higher his pay was. The rest of the community accepted him and revered his crude business practices. A fact he shouldn’t be proud of, but it had kept him alive.

He knew the things he did were wrong: dealing drugs, fencing stolen property, roughing up or even taking the life of some poor sap that got on the wrong side of some very vengeful people. He wasn’t proud of what he had done by any means. On the contrary, he was quite disgusted with himself, but he only did what was necessary to take care of his little brother and his alcoholic mother. It wasn’t like anyone would give a young boy a job that paid enough to handle the shit he had to handle. He was supporting three people, for Christ’s sake.

He blamed his mother, Sarah, for the bullshit he had to endure. She was handicapped by her alcoholism, drinking herself into oblivion to the point that she couldn’t function or exist without it. Her dependency on the Devil’s juice left her unable to take care of Dominic or his baby brother. Hell, she couldn’t even take care of her damn self. But, she was his mother and gave him life – however non-existent and truly messed up it was – and he still loved her.

Dominic turned to Ricardo and the streets in search of the things that his mother couldn’t provide. With each dirty job, he somehow managed to swallow the bile that rose in the back of his throat. At least his family had a roof over their heads and food on the table. It was a shitty way to survive, but it was the
only
way for him to survive.

It wasn’t the fact that her son was dealing drugs or killing thugs that sent Dominic’s mother to an early grave. It was her overwhelming need for the drink. It slowly killed her leaving only the hollow shell of her body until that, too, had to be buried.

Dominic resented her for that. She never would tell them what drove her to the bottle; what had happened to her that was so terrible that she would just give up everything for the taste of the hooch. At times – in a drunken stupor – she would mumble things about their father, a man they never knew. She wouldn’t dare utter his name because she said he was the Devil, and it would surely bring him back from Hell. Sarah didn’t want him anywhere near her boys, so all Dominic could surmise is that he wasn’t a good man. On several occasions, he had considered hunting the bastard down and killing him with his bare hands for what he had put them through. However, he soon found out that it wasn’t necessary because he was already dead. So, when his mother died, so did the secrets they kept.

His little brother, Colton, was completely oblivious to it all. He became dependent on Dominic to take care of him and looked up to his big brother like he was some kind of saint. Of course he didn’t deserve that kind of reverence, but Colton also had no clue about the things his older brother had to do to make sure they were going to be all right. He just knew that all his problems were nothing in his brother’s more than capable hands. He was a smart kid with a lot of potential, and Dominic made damn sure he would get the chance to live up to all he could be.

He would surely have to pay penance for all the bad things he did to make sure that Colton had the means to go to college. He was going to be a doctor someday, and it comforted Dominic to know that his brother would be saving lives. Hopefully, making up for the ones that Dominic took by his own hand. It was a necessary evil on the streets – kill or be killed, survival of the fittest. If he wasn’t alive to take care of his little brother, who knows where he might have ended up?

Once Colton was off to school and his mother was dead and buried in the ground, there was no reason for Dominic to keep up the lifestyle, but he did. It was all he knew. Hell, he never even graduated high school because slinging on the streets and taking care of his family was a full-time job. It wasn’t exactly the career path Dominic would have chosen for himself, but it’s not like he was given much of a choice either.

Ricardo taught Dominic to always be a man of his word, but to never trust anyone else. This cold hard fact he had to learn the hard way. Trust wasn’t something that came naturally to him in the first place, but then he made the mistake of letting his guard down, leaving himself open and vulnerable. It was a woman who took advantage of his temporary lapse in judgment and crushed it, killing his ability to ever trust another. He would never give someone that much power over him again. To remind him of his foolishness, he branded a small token to the inside of his right wrist.

He pushed the jade bracelet that rested on the same wrist aside to read it again.

“Corazón de Hierro,” Dominic murmured in a fluent Spanish accent that was thick and flawless.

“Iron Heart.” He laughed bitterly at the translation before taking the last drink of his beer and tossing the empty bottle into the wastebasket. If only he had that little reminder tattooed there before he trusted that bitch, Sinclair.

Availia had tried to convince him that it didn’t have to be that way, saying that she knew he would find someone who would change his mind – and his heart. That was the kind of stuff only found in fairytales. His life was a lot of things, but a fairytale it most certainly was not. More like a horror flick.

Given the freak of nature he had become, he couldn’t even consider that someone could ever love him. Besides, a hardened person such as himself just didn’t have any love to give in return. It was impossible, and truthfully, he preferred it that way.

Even if his mother hadn’t been a raging alcoholic, she was dead. His brother was miles away, and the only person who did anything for him in his life had just passed away. When that crazy shit went down in Availia’s room that night, it had been to protect him. He was there, unable to do a damn thing about it because he just couldn’t. What would Kerrigan think of him if she knew that?