“Motherfucker. I don’t want you even talking to another man—”
“Then stop me,” I dare him, praying he does.
“Gabby…”
“Don’t do this…”
“Damn it. You have to understand,” he growls.
“Don’t do this, Dom!” I plead. “Don’t give me away! Don’t break up with me.”
“I don’t have a choice. Don’t you understand?”
“You have a choice, Dom. You’re just making the wrong one,” I whisper, backing away from him.
“Gabby, please, baby, try and understand.”
“I love you. I’m willing to tell my father—the one man in this world that I love as much as I love you—I’m willing to tell him to kiss my ass and that this is my life. I’m willing to do that for you.”
“It’s not the same.”
“It’s exactly the same. Tell your brother that this is our lives and that we love each other.”
“Baby, I can’t hurt him…”
“Yeah, I get it,” I sigh.
I’m talking to myself now. My voice is somber, the pain I’m feeling echoes all through me. It’s a pain that I’m not sure I’ll ever recover from. I may love Dom, but there’s no way I will ever be able to trust him again. Still, he’s not breaking up with me.
I won’t allow it.
“Gabby…”
“It’s fine, Dom. You’ve made your choice. You can’t hurt your brother,” I interject, forcing my gaze to move up so I can see his face. I wipe away my tears. They’re not helping me anyway. Dom is going to force me to play hardball, and he’s not going to like how that turns out. I’m not sure I will.
“God da—”
“You can’t hurt your brother. You’d rather destroy me.”
With that, I take off running. I have some things to figure out. Dom isn’t going to break up with me.
No way. No how.
Chapter 7
Thomas
“Are you staying here tonight, Thomas?”
I look up at Mom and smile. She’s getting older, but I swear there’s never been a more beautiful woman. Her blonde hair has streaks of silver in it now, but it doesn’t diminish her beauty at all. It’s more than that, though. She’s beautiful from the inside. Mom has always taken it upon herself to take care of everyone she loves. She’ll be so tired she can barely move and still take food and things to Mattah.
Mattah used to be the cook and all-around mother hen at the clubhouse. She retired years ago. She just turned eighty and doesn’t have any family other than the club. Mom makes sure she has everything she needs and sometimes just buys her little things that she knows will cheer her up.
Dad always said when he found Mom, he found an angel here on earth. Dom and Kayden always rolled their eyes, but I took that in. I believed him because Mom saved me more times than I can count.
“Thomas? Are you staying tonight?” Mom asks again. I pull my thoughts back to the here and now. I summon up a smile for her that somehow got lost as I took my little trip down memory lane.
“Yeah, if that’s okay.”
“Are you kidding? I love it. The house is way too empty. Your dad and Bull left to do something for the club before their trip next week. What do you say we make homemade pizzas the way we used to and veg out in front of the television?”
I laugh. “S-Sounds good, Mom.”
She’s all smiles, but just as she’s about to back out of the room, she frowns, slapping her hand against the door frame gently as she studies me.
“You aren’t just staying because you want to keep an eye on me, are you? Did your dad put you up to this because he left tonight?” She crinkles up her face, clearly not happy with that thought.
I shake my head no. “Nah, I just don’t really like it at the clubhouse when there’s a big party. Besides, I’m the last person Dad would pick to protect you.”
She sighs, walks over to my bed, and sits down, patting her hand against my leg.
“I can understand about the clubhouse,” Mom says, curling her nose, and despite how bad I feel, she makes me laugh. “You’re wrong about your father, though. He has every confidence in the world in you, sweetheart.”
I let out a breath. “It doesn’t feel like it.”
“Tell me what’s going on with you, Thomas. You’ve been staying with Hawk or us almost every night for two weeks,” she says, and I fight back a sigh. I knew my parents would notice. I figure Dad has already talked to Dom. I knew Mom would be the one to come to me. It’s not surprising, but just once, it would be nice if Dad came to me instead of Dom.
“I’m g-good, Mom. I just n-needed a break.”
“Don’t lie to your mother. We have an instinct about these kinds of things.”
“What kind of things?” I ask, looking at her and trying to judge exactly what she does know.