Page 27 of Rugged Soul

“I’ll be home soon,” he promises. My heart leaps at his words. Home. He smiles knowingly, taking my hand in his and pressing his lips to my knuckles. “You’re my home,” Domino whispers. I nod, trying not to cry. He sees me, he understands me in a way no one else ever has.

I don’t want him to leave, but we both have things to do today. We finally accept that the work day has started, and though that looks very different for him than it does for me, real life must go on.

After catching up on emails and making a few calls, I get inspired to go back to the property Domino which I never got a chance to look at. While I have another showing lined up for later in the week, I really want him to consider all of his options. I know the pub with all of the commercial kitchen equipment, seating, and tables is perfect for what he wants to use it for.

I hop in the shower and rinse off, then get dressed for the day. Instead of the leggings and heavy sweater I wore a few days ago, I opt for one of Domino’s shirts. It took me a few minutes, but I found a button-up shirt that hangs down around my knees. I tie the silk scarf I was using to cover up the bruises on my neck around my waist, creating a cute shirt-dress.

I’m excited to do a walkthrough of the property myself and get things looking perfect before Domino sees it. I decide to text him to meet me at the property when he’s done with his club business, hoping to surprise him. Maybe now that he knows he has me no matter what, he’ll finally put an offer in.

Fifteen minutes later, I’m pulling into the parking lot, my mind whirling with ideas on how to present this property to Domino. I have a vision and I think he’s going to love it. Plus, Lisa Dunham is eager for this place to sell so she gave me the freedom to make a good deal.

As I step out of my car, a strange, unsettling feeling washes over me. I look over my shoulder, then around the parking lot, and further up the property line. Nothing is out of place, but my stomach is in knots for some reason.

I gather my things and head toward the front door, the sinking feeling in my chest growing with each step. I dig through my purse for the keys, but I can’t seem to find them. “Come on, come on, come on,” I repeat under my breath as if that’s going to help.

Something catches my eye through the double glass doors. I look inside for the first time, cupping my hands around my eyes and peering in through the glass. My mouth drops open and I push on the door, surprised and horrified when it opens easily.

What I see has me falling to my knees and covering my mouth with my hand to quiet my sobs.

The walls are painted with graffiti, tables and counters have been smashed to pieces, and the booths have been slashed open, the foam cushioning littered across the floor. When I finally gain the strength to stand, I see more damage inside the actual kitchen. So much for functioning commercial appliances.

Something catches the light streaming through a broken window and I turn my head, nearly throwing up when I see the goddamn keys lying on the counter. I’m such an idiot.

As I wander through the now-ruined property, I beat myself up for being so stupid. I fucked up. I fucked it all up. I didn't lock the building when I left the other day, and now…

Am I responsible for the damage? I think I remember something about assuming liability for properties under my care in the training class, but now I don’t know. Even if I’m not sued into oblivion, I’m certainly going to be fired. And what about Domino and his club? I let him down as much as anyone.

How did my day go from a perfect, dreamy morning to this wretched nightmare?

12

DOMINO

"Stubborn, sweet, frustrating woman," I grunt when I check my phone for the first time in an hour. Calista sent a text saying she was going back to the property from the other day. I know she means well, but Jesus, she's going to give me a heart attack.

“Everything okay?” Jett asks. “Aside from the obvious.”

I called Jett right after Diesel called me earlier this morning. He was able to get the tracking devices up and running faster than expected and had important information on the data he’s collected so far.

"Gotta go get my woman and tell her to stay in the damn house," I growl as I shove my phone into my pocket.

“I don’t know Calista at all, but I don’t think that conversation is going to go over very well,” he points out. “Women don’t like to be told where to be, especially if it’s by a man, telling her to stay put.”

“What would you know about women?” I snap, making my way outside. Jett follows.

“I mean, I have a sister,” he says lamely. I wave my hand at him, dismissing his words.

I jump on my bike and rev the engine, peeling out of the parking lot and speeding toward my destination. My heart is stuck in my throat, equal parts fear and anger coursing through my veins. I’m sure Calista had good intentions. She doesn’t have a mean bone in her body.

But Jesus, doesn’t she get that she’s in danger? Why would she go back there?

The normally ten-minute ride takes me less than five. I burst into the building, shocked and furious at what I see. I can't comprehend the disaster zone that's spread before me, instead searching for my woman.

Did they come back and hurt her in just the last hour? What little graffiti I could decypher points directly to Zeke and his newly formed club. Did this happen before she showed up? Where the hell is–

A soft sniffle breaks through the otherwise eerily silent building, pulling my attention in that direction. I sprint toward the booths in the back, nearly tripping over the loose, shredded foam on the floor.

“Calista,” I rasp, my voice caught in my throat. She’s kneeling on the floor, gathering up chunks of foam while tears pour down her cheeks. My beautifully broken woman looks up at me, her eyes filled with sorrow and regret.

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