Page 117 of Infernal

Even though the days that followed Gabriel’s visit were much of the same tears and isolation from the previous week, it somehow felt different. Maybe even a little better. Of course, I was still crying for Trace, grieving my loss of him and the life we had planned together, but I didn’t hate myself quite as much as I had the days before, and I think I had Gabriel to thank for that.

Even still, the hollow days came and went tirelessly, broken up only by the few hours that I forced myself out of the motel to bus it back to Hollow Hills. I wasn’t sure how or why I was being allowed to take my final exams two weeks earlier than everyone else, but I had the sneaking suspicion that Tessa and the Council were somehow behind it.

I didn’t spare it much thought, though, and just took the small blessing as it came.

The night before me and Tessa were set to leave on our Slayer-sister-road-trip, I’d finally worked up enough courage to head back to town and face Dominic. Strangely, the closer I got to the Manor, the worse my anxiety became. It was odd being that my proximity to him was usually the only thing that could calm me.

My heart sank into my shoes when I finally reached the house on foot. The lights were off, and Dominic’s black Audi wasn’t in the driveway either. I realized then that I probably should’ve called before coming. If only I could’ve drummed up enough nerve to do it.

Having no other option, I plopped down on his front stoop and waited.

Even when the rain started pouring down on me like a sideways curtain of water, I waited.

And then, nearly an hour later, when I was just about to give up and bus it back to the motel, a pair of headlights rounded the corner. My heart leapt up into my throat as I watched the lights turn into the driveway and then make their way up to the house. The car idled for a moment, the headlights beaming over my huddled, soaking wet form like a spotlight, and then the engine cut, along with my heart, the latter only restarting when Dominic opened the door and stepped out of his car. His eyes were trained on me through a mask of emotions I couldn’t read to save my life.

He stood there for what felt like an eternity, the rain hammering down on him as though God himself were throwing buckets of water down from the heavens, and then he was walking towards me, slowly and carefully, as though I were a wounded animal that he might frighten away. I stood up slowly to greet him at the top of the steps, my clothing sticking to my body and revealing more of myself that I wanted to.

He stopped when he reached the bottom of the stairs and lifted his eyes, his gaze roaming slowly up my body from my feet to my chest and then finally settling on my eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I said, water dripping off my face as though I’d just broken through a rogue wave in the middle of the ocean.

His eyes cut away from mine as he started up the steps, passing me quietly and then making his way to the door. I heard his keys jingle and then the sound of a door unlocking, and I dropped my head in defeat.

At that point, I was fairly certain he had no intention of ever speaking to me again, and honestly, I couldn’t even blame him. I lowered my foot onto the step below me, ready to take myself out like yesterday’s trash, when I heard his voice slice through the pattering of the rain.

“Get inside,” he ordered, and while his tone sounded harsh and kind of pissed off, it didn’t scare me.

I welcomed it, because at least he was talking to me now.

Pushing the wet hair away from my forehead, I turned around and faced him. He was holding the door open expectantly, still staring at me in the same intense, unreadable way as before.

I held his gaze and walked back up the steps, letting it go only when I reached the doorway and passed under his arm. He shut the door behind me, but he didn’t move after that.

Nervous, I snuck a peek at him from under my eyelashes. Unfortunately, he was standing so close to me that I could only see his neck from the angle that my head was in. Digging deeper for courage, I lifted my chin and let my gaze climb up higher until I finally met his eyes.

Icy eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered again.

“You’re sorry.” It wasn’t a question. It was more of a reiteration of something so stupid and incredulous that you had to repeat it out loud just to believe it. He took a step forward, forcing my back against the door. “You stake me, leave me for dead in Jockstrap’s car, and then disappear for days, and you’resorry?”

Jesus, when he put it that way…

“I—"

“Spare me, angel lips.” His tone was so clipped that it made me flinch. “You’ve already made your lack of regard for me painfully obvious.”

“Dominic, will you please let me explain?” I asked, but that only seemed to further incite him.

“Explain what? What would you like to explain?” he rumbled lowly, boxing me in with his body as he craned his head down to mine. I could feel his chest rising and falling against my own, and I knew he was working hard to contain himself.

“Do you have any idea how worried I was about you?” he asked, his eyes darkening with every syllable. “How many times I drove around and—” He clamped his mouth shut and then punched the door beside me.

I started, not because I though he was going to hit me though, because I knew he wouldn’t do that, but because the door shook so violently from his hit that it nearly bounced off its hinges.

And because he was out there…looking for me.

My guilt smothered me. “What do you want me to say, Dominic? That I’m a shitty person?” I said, tears welling up under my lids. “Fine. I’m a shitty person. I can admit that.”

---