Under His Domain (8 page)

He
warned you himself.

When Kennedy came out of the bathroom,
she was tense and nervous.
 
Easton
was lying on his side, back towards her as she approached the bed.

Kennedy took off her clothes and left on
only her bra and panties.

She climbed beneath the covers and
huddled on the other side, feeling like everything had already gone to pot.

Nothing’s
even happened!
 
This is all in your
head
! She chastised
herself.
 
But it didn’t matter.
 
Even though nothing had really occurred,
there was a sense of fate, of the pull of the universe and how it could just as
easily tear them apart as it had brought them together.

The knowledge of it horrified her.

Easton, as if sensing her fear, turned
over in bed and reached out for her across the empty space.
 
“Come closer,” he whispered.

“I’m scared.”

“Don’t be scared, baby.”

He’d never called her baby.
 
He’d never sounded so soft, so caring.

Some of the fear melted away, but not all
of it.
 
Still, she scooted herself
back against his warm, naked body.
 
He wrapped himself around her, and she could feel his cock stiffening
against her, pushing between her buttocks as his chest pressed into her back
and his arms wrapped around her body.

Easton pressed his lips against the back
of her neck and started to kiss her as his hands grabbed hold of her breasts.

“Don’t be scared,” he said again.

“I’ll try,” she agreed.

And then she somehow loosened her grip on
the world, and let exhaustion overwhelm her.

Kennedy hadn’t even realized how tired
she truly was, but as Easton held her and comforted her, she understood that
her grip on reality had been frantic and terrified in part because she had run
herself nearly into the ground.

Finally, as she drifted off, she smiled
faintly.

I
love you, Easton Rather.
 
I love you
and I always will.
 
Please don’t
ever leave me.

It was a prayer of sorts.
 
Maybe it worked.

Sleep took her.

***

There were dreams, but they were
confusing and muddled.
 
Someone was
shouting, telling her to come out.

They were pounding at the door to her
apartment.

It was
Blake,
only Blake was a violent monster.
 
If
she opened the door to her apartment, he would come inside and tear her limb
from limb.

But the pounding continued.

“Hey,” a voice called.
 
“Hey, Kennedy.
 
Wake up.”

Her eyes snapped open and it took Kennedy
a moment to register where she was and what was happening.

Easton was standing over her, buttoning
his shirt.
 
His hair was still damp
from the shower.
 

Kennedy blinked and self-consciously
wiped at the corners of her eyes.
 
“What’s going on?”

“My brother’s here,” Easton said.
 
He shook his head slightly.
 
“Come downstairs when you’re ready.”

She slid up in bed, bringing the covers
with her, suddenly modest.

Easton smiled at this, his eyes wrinkling
and his lips forming a grin.

Kennedy felt her cheeks flush in
response.
 
“I don’t have anything to
wear.”

Easton nodded towards an elaborate
dresser in the corner.
 
“Grab
something out of there,” he told her.
 
“I’ve got some t-shirts and stuff.
 
You can borrow a pair of my boxers.”

“I won’t fit.”

“Just do your best.
 
We’ll get you some clothes later, I promise.”

“I’m not ready to see anyone,” Kennedy
complained.

Easton sighed.
 
“Just come down when you can.”
 
He turned and left the room in a hurry,
and then she heard him greeting Dean, and Dean’s low, rumbly voice responding
in words that were muffled by the distance up to the bedroom.

Kennedy’s stomach churned.

Somehow, she’d hoped for a day that would
have consisted of just her and Easton, spending time together, recuperating,
laughing, relaxing,
making
love.

Making
love is all you want to do.

First
you’re a virgin and now you’re like a horny teenager.

She was frustrated and angry and…of
course…scared.
 
The world was
intruding again, already.

Wouldn’t they ever just get time to
themselves?
 
Couldn’t they ever just
be a normal couple without all the drama following them around?

She got out of bed and then moved to his
dresser. She found a t-shirt that hung down to almost her knees, but it was
better than nothing.
 
Then she found
a pair of sweatpants that had a drawstring she could use to make it fit her
narrow waist.

And she had to roll them pants up at the
bottom so they didn’t trip her as she walked.
 
She checked herself out in the mirror
and thought she looked like a kid wearing her daddy’s clothes.

It wasn’t a good look and she saw her
face transform into that pouty child’s face, making it even worse.

Maybe
I’ll just sit up here until Dean leaves.

But Easton had asked her to go
downstairs, and she didn’t want to disappoint him.
 
She needed to be part of his life, to
prove that she would be there come rain or come shine.

Okay, so she needed to get some new
clothes.
 
It wasn’t the end of the
world.

Kennedy went downstairs and found Easton
and Dean drinking coffee at the table in the breakfast nook.

When Dean saw her, he laughed.
 
“Hey, if it isn’t Raggedy Ann.
 
Where’s Andy?”

She felt her mouth tighten in response to
his little jab, but forced a smile.
 
“I had to borrow your brother’s clothes.”

Dean laughed again.
 
“I think that outfit really works for
you, Kennedy.
 
You shouldn’t ever
change, as far as I’m concerned.”

She wanted to tell him to go fuck
himself, but knew that wasn’t probably going to go over well.
 
Instead, she said thanks and smiled
sweetly, even though Dean wasn’t even looking at her anymore.

Did Dean even have any concept of the
havoc he had caused everyone?

Somehow, she didn’t think so.

He was slurping coffee and talking to
Easton, who was relaxed in his chair, watching his brother speak.
 
Easton’s face was bruised and cut, but
somehow he looked fresh and relatively unhurt despite it all.

“You really outdid yourself this time,
bro,”
Dean
said.
 
His leg jumped up and down beneath the table as his foot tapped the
floor.
 
“Jimmy DeLuca…I never seen
the guy humbled for even one second.
 
But he comes into the bar today, hat in hand, like he found Jesus.”

“Maybe I helped him find his savior,”
Easton said, as Kennedy walked closer to him.
 
He wrapped an arm around her waist,
looking up at her.
 
“Coffee’s still
hot, babe.
 
You want a cup?”
 
He made as if to rise, and Kennedy shook
her head.

“I’ll get it myself.
 
You sit and talk.”

“Aint that sweet,” Dean chuckled, as she
walked away from the table.

Kennedy saw that Easton had left a mug
for her over by the coffee pot, and a smile crept over her face, realizing that
he’d been thinking of her.
 
She
poured a cup and then added some sugar, carried it back to where Easton sat
with his brother.

She pulled up a chair and sat down,
feeling like she was intruding on their private conversation, but Easton gave
her a gentle pat on the leg and then held her hand under the table.

Kennedy flushed as she remembered the
previous night and what they’d done.
 
Her cheeks flamed and she wondered if it was obvious what she was
thinking about.

But Dean was oblivious to her, as he went
on and on about the change in
Jimmy
The Muscle
DeLuca’s attitude.

“I tell you, bro,” Dean continued, foot
still tapping, “DeLuca looked me straight in the eye and said “your brother and
his friends are crazier than any mob guys I ever met.”
 
This, coming from the craziest, meanest
Mafioso in the entire city!”

Easton’s jaw flinched.
 
“I hope I broke every fucking rib of his
yesterday.”

“Oh, he was moving slow.
 
Probably was all bandaged up under his
suit.
 
He tried to hide it, but he
was hurting.
 
And honest to God, I
think you scared him.
 
You and those friends of yours.
 
Who were those guys?” Dean asked,
leaning forward slightly.

Easton shrugged.
 
“Just some guys I know.”
 
His eyes darted to Kennedy, as if to
make sure she was okay.

She was glad he didn’t bring her role
into any of the discussion with Dean.
 
Kennedy didn’t trust him with anything.
 
In fact, she felt like all they’d done
was enable him.
 
Dean was confident
again,
much different than the pathetic figure he’d cut in
the diner the other day.
 
He would
likely be back to gambling again later that afternoon.

“Well, you should thank those friends of
yours for me,” Dean said, spinning his coffee cup first in one direction, then
the other.
 
“Those guys put the fear
of God or the devil into Jimmy DeLuca.
 
I didn’t think such a thing was even possible.”

“DeLuca’s nothing but a petty criminal,
and a bully.
 
The second you stand
up to him, he turns into a pile of Jell-O, just like any other bum,” Easton
replied.
 
“He doesn’t have the balls
to create, doesn’t have the guts to work for himself—he just tries to
take easy money from degenerates and…” Easton trailed off, catching himself as
he inadvertently insulted his brother.

Dean’s eyes narrowed, but then he waved a
hand and laughed.
 
“Point is
,
the guy is out of our lives, bro.
 
He told me
I got my business
back
,
we’re square
.
 
Shit, he probably would’ve paid me money
if I’d asked him to.”

Easton sipped from his coffee and
squeezed Kennedy’s hand.
 
“How much financial
damage to your bar?” Easton asked him.
 
“Can you survive it?”

“I don’t know,” Dean said, his expression
falling.
 
“I hope so.
 
I mean
,
we
always get good crowds and whatnot.
 
But I have no idea how long it’ll take to crawl out of this hole, and
now I have so many payments to make.
 
We’ll see.”

The table fell silent and Kennedy didn’t
have anything to add.
 
She drank her
coffee and tried to keep a friendly expression on her face.

Dean smoothed his long hair, looking
suddenly older.

“You need to start going to meetings
again,” Easton said, his tone much less friendly and concerned.
 
Now he sounded like Dean’s parole
officer.

“Yeah, I know.
 
I do.”

“I’m serious.
 
Today, Dean.”

“Well, today’s busy.
 
I got to get to the bar and figure a
bunch of stuff out—“

Easton pointed at him.
 
“Get your ass to a meeting.
 
If we talk and you tell me you never
went, we’re going to have a problem.”

Dean shifted in his seat and his jaw
worked.
 
“Hey, you don’t have to
fucking
lecture
me.
 
I know I have a lot to make up for.”

Suddenly Easton sat forward.
 
“They put a pair of pliers in my mouth
and started pulling my teeth, Dean.”
 
He slid the sleeve of his shirt up his forearm.
 
“They burned me with their
cigarettes.
 
And you see what they
did to my face, right?”