Dominus Page 3

  He nodded again as his head dropped to stare between his knees. I lifted his face with my finger under his chin. “Give me about two hours, then I’ll be back. Got it?”

  “Sure.”

  I took his hand and pulled him up and out of the bathroom with me.

  “Later,” I said as I swiped my backpack from the table and headed out the door.

  The bus stop was a ten-minute walk from our house, then another twenty minutes’ ride. I’d be back within the two hours, but Ajay would be counting, so I’d made sure to give myself plenty of time.

  Saturday morning the bus was nearly full. I spied one spare seat by the window toward the back, which meant disturbing the old guy who’d taken the aisle seat, so I decided to stand behind a woman in a paisley dress surrounded in a halo of cheap floral perfume.

  The lady beat me off the bus, then bathed me in her floral perfume as we both waited for the bus to pull away from the curb. Beside me was the newsstand’s bulletin board announcing the front-page news. The words ‘two young teenagers’ and ‘mysterious deaths that defy any logical explanation’ caught my eye, but before I could read any more, the bus left, clearing my way to cross.

  I ducked between slow-moving cars but couldn’t get a good run because of my heels. An upmarket clothes shop called for a sophisticated look, and it was good to throw on a nice outfit again.

  I skipped up the curb, but my left heel caught on a crack in the paving and sent me tumbling to the side. Strong hands caught me before I hit the ground and I collided with a man’s chest.

  “A woman falling into your arms first thing in the morning has to be good luck.”

  “Sorry.” I straightened out of his hold, looking up into his face. God, the new gym teacher.

  “Sable, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, Mr.…”

  “Holden.” He held out his hand for a shake.

  “First or last name?”

  “First. My last name’s a mouthful.”

  My first month of being a new student at Forrestfield High saw me with a detention because the old guy who was supposed to be their gym teacher took an instant dislike to me, then disappeared within the month to be replaced by Holden. Record numbers of girls turned up to participate in every gym class in Lycra rather than the school-issued baggy shorts and tee shirt.

  He still held my hand from our shake. Awkward. “I better keep going.” I withdrew my hand from his and bent to retrieve my snapped heel, but he beat me to it.

  “Looks like a job for heavy-duty superglue.”

  I couldn’t turn up to the interview wearing only one shoe.

  “You weren’t going anywhere important, I hope,” he said as he held the broken heel up with a humble smile.

  “Just a job interview.”

  “Job? Is that why I’ve not seen you in gym this last week?”

  He was looking out for me? Nah, couldn’t be. I revealed myself early in gym class as being inept in coordination, strength, and stamina, basically anything to do with sport, despite the pressure my dad placed on both Ajay and me to be the best in anything we did. For Ajay it came naturally. I was the opposite.

  I shrugged because what I did had nothing to do with him.

  “Will you be in gym on Tuesday?”

  His point for asking was…?

  Holden wore casual olive-green cotton pants and a white cotton shirt, top button left undone. His blond hair was cut short at the sides and back, with long layers on top, which were artfully tousled thanks to styling mousse. Money breathed from his cologne, a nice blend of mulled spices. In short, he looked expensive, a guy my mum and dad would’ve welcomed to our dinner table in that other life I once had. We didn’t even have enough chairs at our kitchen table for extra people now.

  I held my hand out and looked at my heel resting loose in his palm.

  “You still going to the interview?”

  “It’s not my fault the paving needs fixing.”

  He chewed on his inner cheek while he weighed the heel in his palm like he was deciding if it was worth selling. “There’s a party tonight—”

  “You’re my teacher.”

  “Something tells me you’re not going back to school.”

  “I’m babysitting my brother.”

  “He can come.”

  “To a party? Hardly, he’s ten.”

  “It’s not that sort of party.”

  He couldn’t mean it. Not really. Gym class was full of girls better-looking than me. And what about women his own age, women who were worldly and sophisticated and didn’t have peeling wallpaper, cracked linoleum, and not enough seats at the kitchen table for guests? “How old are you?”

  “Do I look too old?”

  Too old for what?

  “I’m twenty-two. Too young to be your grandfather.”

  I ducked my head to hide my smile. He was asking me out on a date. This was a date. I’m sure it was a date.

  “It’s not a date.”

  I flicked my eyes to his.

  “Well…I guess it depends.” He had a cute smile. I’d never noticed that in the few times I’d met him before. I’d also never noticed how blue his eyes were, like the deepest part of the ocean.

  “Depends on what?”

  “If you want it to be a date. My intention was for this to be a friendly, get-to-know-each-other night out.”

  “Sounds like a date to me.”

  “Then that’s what it will be.”

  “No. I wasn’t meaning I wanted it to be a date.”

  His lips twitched into a smile. “Will your brother be coming?”

  “I haven’t decided if I will come.”

  “It’s at the beach. It’s going to be a nice night. Bonfire, good food. I’ll introduce you to some friends. If you don’t drive, I can pick you up, and you’ll be home before pumpkin time.”

  “I don’t think so.” No way was he picking me up from mine.

  “You don’t want me to pick you up?”

  Does he read minds or what?

  “It’s not a good idea.”

  He fished into his pocket and pulled out his billfold, then presented me with a card. In bold block text, it read Dyno Mixed Martial Arts.

  “It’s my club.”

  “I thought you were a gym teacher.”

  “Fill-in gym teacher. This is my real dream. You can meet me there if you don’t want me to know where you live.”

  I could feel the heat creeping up my neck. Damn him, he was stubborn. What did it hurt? Only getting involved with some guy wealthy enough to own a club at twenty-two, whose clothes would cost our food budget for the month, or more… Now was not the time for distraction. Or maybe it was the perfect time. “What time?”

  The dip on his left cheek when he smiled could be confused as a dimple if a girl got fanciful enough. “How ’bout six? It doesn’t start until eight, but I’d rather you not ride the public transport by yourself at night.”

  A gentleman. Take it slow.

  “Fine, I’ll see you then.”

  “We could exchange numbers. That way if anything happens, the other’s not left stranded.”

  This had been his ploy all along. I recited mine as he punched it on his cell, then he phoned me.

  “Done.” He handed me my heel. “I hope you’re successful today.”

  So do I. “Thanks.”

  I didn’t look back as I hobbled away. Not until I reached the corner, then before I disappeared around, I snuck a quick peek back to see he’d disappeared. I glanced down at the card. Was it weird that he should ask me out when that was the first time we’d spoken properly? Twenty-two wasn’t a gross age gap.

  I slipped the card in the front pocket of my backpack, then rummaged inside for my cell. The clothes shop was across the street, yet I had fifteen minutes until my interview. Nerves made me remove my other shoe and keep walking.

  At the end of the street, I was about to turn back when I saw a group of young people leaving the central cemetery. The guy in bla
ck walking alongside a woman wearing tight-as-tight denims and thirteen-inch heels—at least—caught my eye.

  Jax.

  He couldn’t be. From this distance, I had to be wrong. I stood, transfixed, watching the three of them disappear down the street. They all wore varying shades of dark clothing, each blending in with the person beside them. This had to be the gang I’d thought him a part of, a gang of three, hardly menacing. And what were they doing leaving a cemetery, unless they were into some creepy satanic practices?

  He had my number. How? No way was his sudden appearance at Dram Truckers yesterday coincidence, and the message last night a warning? Soon.

  The smaller they became in the distance, the greater the tug in my body to follow grew. What else did this creep know about me? My address? Had he followed me? Oh, Jesus, Ajay. Did he see Ajay and me at the bus stop?

  Soon, all right. Only sooner than he expected. I’d likely not get the job in one shoe anyhow.

  By now the three of them had rounded the corner at the end of the cemetery and moved onto Barrack Street, where the rail line ran. If they planned on catching a train, I’d given them a good head start.

  I ran the length of the street, shoes in hand, to the corner. The group had disappeared, across the street to the underpass most likely. The lights of an oncoming train glinted in the distance, so I legged it across the street in front of a truck and felt the wind of its passing on my tail.

  The first lot of stairs I took two at a time. At the top, I grabbed the railing and swung myself around to duck back down the stairs a couple of steps. The four of them waited on the other platform, looking to catch the train heading in the opposite direction.

  I headed back down and moved farther into the underpass tunnel. At the bottom of the stairs to the second platform, I waited, swallowing my pants. With only them on the platform, I had nowhere to hide.

  What the hell was I doing here, back against the cold brick wall in a train underpass, chasing after a stranger, skipping my job interview like this, which should be my priority? How about finding out who the hell this guy was and how he got my number? More importantly, why me?

  The low-sounding horn of another train tensed my muscles. I climbed the steps, stopping before my head drew level with the platform. Rising on tiptoes, I peered out to see the three of them had moved to the edge in preparation to board.

  As the train slowed to a stop, I climbed the remaining steps. With the last of the three entering the first carriage, I sprinted across the platform, dodged a woman exiting the train, and slipped onto the next carriage along.

  The train shunted away as I looked ahead through the glass window to the adjoining carriage. I couldn’t see them so took the first seat closest to the door by the window. That way I could keep watch at each station in case they got off.

  My pulse raced as I eased myself back into the seat. What was I doing? If I got off at their stop, Jax would see me. But why chase them if I wasn’t going to confront him? I’d acted without thought and was now heading to god knows where. Ninety minutes was all I had before I should be home so as not to disappoint Ajay. I closed my eyes and banged my head back onto the headrest. I’d lost my mind.

  Someone sat beside me. I looked out the window as I straightened and automatically shifted a little farther toward the window.

  “What is it about us that lures you?”

  Sweet Jesus.

  I turned to stare into his black eyes. Too close, I leaned back, pressing myself into the corner of the seat. Like I remembered, he was good-looking, but his hard, unwelcoming expression made his features look angular and chiseled from unyielding rock rather than classically handsome.

  “Excuse me?” I’d been caught, but it didn’t mean I had to confess.

  “You’re following us. Why?”

  “This is my train.”

  He looked ahead, releasing me from the prison of his stare. Deadpan, nothing about his features gave his thoughts away.

  “How do you have my number?”

  He inched his head around to face me again. “Pretty please.”

  “What?”

  “If you want answers, you have to say the magic words.”

  He had to be joking. “It wasn’t a coincidence you were at Dram Truckers yesterday, was it?”

  “Is that what the shop was called?” He slouched back into his seat. “Was your mum upset when you turned up in the back seat of a cop car?”

  “It’s a joke to you, isn’t it?”

  “I’m not so easily amused.” By the flat press of his lips, I would agree.

  “Why me?”

  “Don’t get excited, you’re nothing special. But I want you all the same.”

  No way. “I’m out of here.”

  I grasped my backpack and went to stand, but his hand gripped on to my elbow. I jerked around to face him, wrenching my arm from his hold. “Don’t touch me.”

  His response was another of his penetrating stares. I wanted to smack the walled look off his face and then see what sort of expression he would give me.

  “You keep raising the stakes. Increasing the challenge, but in the end, Sable, you will only be as good as I allow you to be.”

  My name coming from his mouth had my heart freezing to its core. I had not given him my name, just like he should not know my number.

  “How do you know?”

  “You are important to us.”

  “Us, your gang.”

  He snorted a short, hard laugh. “Yeah, my gang.” He announced the word like he thought it a joke. “I want to show you something. Are you willing?”

  “Wow, you’re being civil.”

  “Just this once. And only because I know you won’t refuse.”

  “You arrogant asshole. I’m—”

  “After answers.”

  “I wasn’t going to be so polite, but yeah, I want answers. But I’m not going anywhere with you or your gang.”

  In his slouch, he steepled his fingers and eyed me over the top of the small pyramid he’d created. “I can reveal the truth for you. Unravel dark secrets.”

  “Being mysterious is not alluring.”

  “Is that what I am?”

  He was impossible to have a conversation with. A brick wall of arrogance. “You’re the biggest wanker I’ve ever met.”

  He huffed a laugh. “I’ll message you the location.”

  “I’m not interested.”

  “What about your answers?”

  “You’re only saying that to get me to agree.”

  He leaned in close. I pushed back until I was pressed up against the window. “I really want to bust your reality apart.” If a voice could be a weapon, his was the sharp steel of a blade. “Tick tock, Sable, don’t waste time. It’s not a luxury we have.”

  “You’re insane.”

  “I wish it were true. It would be more peaceful that way.” He lurched to his feet. “Don’t turn your phone off.”

  End of warning, he headed back the way he’d come.

  Chapter 4

  I knocked on the door, then pushed through to find Mum standing beside her bed wearing a light sweatshirt and loose pants. “You’re dressed.” I stayed in the doorway, tray in hand.

  “I thought I would make some dinner.” She brushed at her hair, pushing the untidy mess out of her face.

  I held the tray up in front of me. “I’ve already made some.”

  “Is it late? I should’ve come out early. What about Ajay?”

  “He’s eating.”

  “But we should sit up as a family.” She patted her hair again.

  “Sure, if that’s what you want.” I hesitated in saying the rest of what I needed to say. “But I’ve already eaten.”

  “You have.”

  She came over to me in the dim light of her lamp and placed a hand on my cheek. “My darling, thank you.” She glanced at the tray. “It smells good.”

  The shock of seeing her up was replaced by a lump in my throat for all the days we’d los
t her, all the small moments we’d missed while she descended into her darkness.

  Mum had never experienced independence. She married Dad young once she discovered she was pregnant. He was an adoring yet domineering man who treated her like an exotic bird, albeit a caged one, and she loved it. He treated us all like that. He earned the money, made the decisions, dealt the discipline. But he was fair and giving and we’d all adored him. With him gone, the heart of our family went too, our family’s foundation sucked down a black hole into oblivion.

  In my heart, the love for him had turned to venom. He’d lied to us for seventeen years, pretending to be an upstanding successful businessman when really he was a crook and a murderer. I watched a stranger being led away, stripped of dignity, cuffed, sandwiched between two guards, a stranger whose face I’d seen every day of my seventeen years, a face I’d loved. As Dad became someone else, so too did we. He became the liar, the crime lord, while we became the destitute, the shamed.

  Mum acted like she didn’t know about everything Dad had done, but she couldn’t be that naive. However, there wasn’t enough hatred in me for the terrible lies told to extend to Mum as well.

  “I should be eating this at the table with my children, not on a tray hiding in my room,” she said as she wiped at her eyes.

  This was one in a handful of times since we moved into this rental she’d pulled herself together enough to leave her room. Usually the only times were to visit Dad in jail. Visit over, the devastation would bleed her raw all over again, sink her low in the reality of our life, and suck her back under her covers. It was great to see her up, but I couldn’t hold the hope in my heart that this was permanent and that she would not collapse back into her shell.

  She rested a hand on my arm. “You’re my sweet girl.”

  “I need to wash a few things tomorrow. I was thinking we could strip the beds and throw the linen in as well.”

  She withdrew her hand and forced a smile. “Of course. But I’ll do that.”

  I wasn’t even sure if she knew where the laundry was in this house. “Yeah, fine.”

  “Honey.” She tugged gently on my arm, encouraging me to sit on the end of her bed next to her. “I have been so selfish these last few months.”