Page 23 of Where He Ended

- Chapter 9 -

Dominic

As I start the engine, it occurs to me that I could slam my foot on the pedal and drive us far away from this chaos. We could leave my parents’ estate. We could leave everything behind and just be together. It would be the closest thing I'd ever get to feeling truly happy.

But when I glance at Laiken next to me, I know it can't be done. She would never leave her sister behind. It's part of why I fell for her; her dedication to the people she loves, her ability to keep her promises. She doesn't need to prove herself to anyone, but she fights just the same to reach her goals.

I'm envious.

If we were different people we could do it. We could leave right now and never look back. But if I've learned anything throughout the years, it's that we are who we are, and it takes massive things—usually tragic—to change any part of us.

“Dominic,” she says suddenly.

“Hmm?”

“What did you do to Franklin?”

I hesitate a few seconds. “I broke his one good hand.”

Laiken continues to stare at me. Instead of responding, she looks out her window. I'm painfully curious about what she's thinking. Did I do too much? Not enough? She stays quiet until the big green gates appear in the distance. “Your parents are going to be pissed.”

“Probably.”

Turning in her seat, she pulls my jacket tighter around her body. “Whatever happens, you did the right thing. I'll always be grateful, Dominic.”

I hate how it sounds like she's building up to say goodbye.

Driving through the gates, I slow down and park at the far end of the other cars. I want to draw out every minute possible before we both get inside. Together we step into the chilly night air. I'm colder without my jacket, but she needs it more.

Our arms are nearly touching. Our hands could link together, if she only lowered hers. We make it all the way to the front door before she brushes my fingers with hers. Then she pulls away, crossing her arms tight. She's preparing herself for this. I steady myself and let us both into the house.

My parents are waiting for us in the front room. They scan me then they focus on Laiken. She's quite a sight with her bare legs sticking out the bottom of my jacket. Anyone else would look fragile. Not her. She stares my parents down, and it reminds me of the way she looked at Franklin. She's probably imagining breaking their noses.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Laiken asks, eyeing them. “How could you do that to me?”

“You began this journey yourself,” my father replies. “It was your party that brought Franklin and his crew to our door. It was only fair that you saw the deal through to the end. Isn't that what you wanted, to help our business and save your own skin?”

“You had no right!” she hisses. “YouknewI would never agree to this, so you hid it from me until it was too late for me to back out. You're awful, sick, twisted people.”

Neither of them denies it. It pisses me off that they don't look ashamed, not even sheepish. As tough as Laiken is acting I can see the exhaustion in her eyes. “Leave us alone,” I say to her. “Go clean up and rest.”

She doesn't argue. She heads down the hall quickly.

Facing off with my parents, I regard them coldly. “Do you really think this was okay? At what point did we become a family that forces girls into sexual slavery?”

“Don't be dramatic,” Silas huffs. “Andfamily?If you valued that word, you wouldn't have interfered.”

“You expected me to let that bastard touch her?”

“I expected you to know your place!” Annie shouts, advancing on me. “I thought you'd understand how important this was. Now I see you're too caught up in that girl to put our needs first. Christ, you and her both smelled like sex when you walked in.”

I bristle, but I don't cave. “My dedication to us, and our business, has limits. I didn'tthinkit did, because I never expected you two to try something as messed up as this.”

Silas shakes his head, starting to pace the room. “So what now? Hmm?” His glare darts my way. “Did you kill him? Are we about to be busy handlingthaton top of everything?”

His accusation makes me cold. I don't recover in time, and my mother senses my weakness and leaps on it. “That's right,” she whispers, her smile cruel. “It must feel so good to act high and mighty. But as bad as we are, at leastwe'renot murderers.”

I flex my fingers, digging the nails into my palms. “Franklin isn't unharmed, but he's alive.”

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