Page 36 of Darkest Retribution

“Right.” He runs a hand through his hair. When he realizes I’m not going to elaborate, he clears his throat. “See you around, I guess. And let me know if you need anything.”

I won’t.

But I still watch him cross the street. Getting close to anyone is off limits, and Dominic is the last person I’d want to develop a friendship with. Still, even though he’s annoying, the conversation was nice.

I sigh, moving inside.

No distractions, Jade. You know that. And your grumpy neighbor isnotthe exception.

Chapter ten

Jade

I’vedealtwithalot of emotions throughout my life.

Fear. Anger. Grief. Bitterness. Resentment.

In between, there were pockets of others—happiness, satisfaction, pride, and maybe even a bit of contentedness every once in a while. But none of it compares to the potency of what I’ve felt since I all but shoved Dominic out of my reach yesterday.

Opening up to him was the last thing I expected myself to do, but there I was, spilling more details about my mom than I have in over a decade. The weird thing is that I wasn’t scared. I felt safe opening up to Dominic.

It was nice to have someone to relate to.

That’s what’s had this rage building in me since I found myself missing his warmth. There are men out there who don’t prioritize their own children as much as Dom does for Rosie. And not only that, but he prioritizesme.

Ashley suggested months ago that he probably has a thing for me. I brushed it off, more on principle than anything else. Relationships aren’t something I can afford in this stage of my life.

But over the past couple weeks, I’ve realized she’s probably right. I’ve caught him staring at me a couple times, and dammit, it’s getting harder and harder to keep my eyes off him, too.

Yet the closest I’ll ever get to Dominic is fantasizing and dreaming about him. Both of which I’ve done every single night for almost a week now.

It makes me so goddamned angry, wanting him when he’s right out of my reach. I know they’re just feelings—more loneliness than anything else, probably. They’ll fade. But every time I think of Dom, I’m hit with so many emotions at once. Some good, some bad.

And now, as I’m waiting for Mike to pick me up to go to this engagement party, it feels like a betrayal to myself.

I’ve finally found something I want for the first time since Rosie, and I’m about to take a step—ten thousand of them, actually—away from it. It’s for the best. Iknowit’s for the best. But I wish there was another way to get out from underneath David’s thumb that would let me have a chance with Dom.

A car pulls up next to mine where I’m waiting in a restaurant parking lot. There’s no way I was going to let Mike pick me up from home, and I don’t want to field questions tomorrow about why my car was parked at the club.

With a practiced smile that seals all my rage and disappointment away, I step out of my car. Mike is already getting out of his, coming around to open the passenger side door for me.

“Hello, Jade. Thank you again for doing this. You look... absolutely beautiful.” He smiles down at me, giving me a light hug.

“Thank you. You look lovely, too.”

And he does. For an older man, his dark suit does wonders for him. And his pale pink tie matches what I’m wearing—a sleeveless cocktail dress that hugs my body and flares out ever so slightly at my hips before stopping mid-thigh.

After helping me into my seat, Mike rounds the car and gets in. His gaze doesn’t even linger on my body. It puts me more at ease, even though I expected it. When Mike came in to the strip club for the first time, I don’t think he knew what he needed. I’m still not sure he does, but he’s stuck around for the emotional connection and listening ear that I give.

“So the couple,” Mike says as he pulls out of the driveway. “Their names are Garrett and Chelsea. I know Garrett’s parents from way back. Don’t really know the girl, although I’ve heard she’s ambitious.”

“Good to know.”

To be perfectly honest, the thought of smiling at people and making small talk all night sounds like torture. But it gets me and Rosie closer to safety—alotcloser to safety—so I can fucking deal.

For the rest of the drive, Mike tells me about some of the people who’ll be there. He throws in some funny anecdotes and stories, and I make mental notes of which friends sound like assholes. By the time we’re pulling up to a fancy-looking country club, I’m feeling more at ease.

“This really does mean a lot,” Mike says as he opens my door. Then he hands the keys to the valet.

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