Page 83 of Daughter of a Monster

I take a sip, shuddering at the strength of the drink and coughing as it burns my throat. “It won’t be anything I haven’t heard before.”

Dominic peers at me over the rim of his glass. “Have you got any more letters since he disappeared?”

I shake my head. “Nothing.”

“So you have no idea where he is?”

“Not a clue.” The lie comes easily.

“Sorry, I know you probably don’t want to talk about him. It’s just my father never paid any attention to me. I guess that’s why I sort of encourage people to talk to their parents if they have the chance. Some of us don’t get one.”

The conversation is verging on enough seriousness it’s about to pull me from my tipsy happiness and drag me into depression.

“Even if your father is the scum of the earth?” I goad.

Dominic’s head tilts to one side as though he’s contemplating. I slap him playfully and he laughs. “I guess you’ve got one up on me there. My father is an asshole but not a criminal asshole. Well, not that I know of anyway. My uncle on the other hand . . .” he just shakes his head and takes another sip of his drink.

I let my head flop to the back of the sofa. “This conversation is way too depressing for my current level of drunk. Let’s change the subject and drink a hell of a lot more.”

Right at that moment, my phone starts to vibrate. I forgot to turn it off earlier. Lifting my skirt, Dominic laughs as I unstrap it from my thigh.

“Private number,” I mutter and power the phone off, knowing it will be Jericho.

Dominic lifts his brows. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

I down the rest of my drink and shudder violently. “I just need a few hours to myself, okay? I just need to forget everything and everyone.”

Dominic raises his glass. “You don’t need to say any more.” He laughs again as I put the phone back into the holster. “I’m honored to be the person you choose to practice your escapism with.”

Over the next couple of hours, I drink more than I’ve ever drank before. Dominic and I laugh and screech as we relay stories to each other. We turn up the music and dance, our moves sloppy and unrehearsed. We even go swimming in nothing but our underwear. We’re both laughing as we stumble back inside, Dominic promising to get us something to eat. A woman looks up, startled when we enter the kitchen. She’s wearing a bathrobe and as soon as her eyes lock with mine she ducks her head and turns away.

“Dommie, you didn’t tell me we had company.” Her voice is small and weak and when she reaches out to grab her glass of wine her hand trembles.

Dominic walks over and hugs her from behind. “Sorry, Mother. But it’s only Berkley. I told you about her, remember?”

She moves away from her son but she keeps her back to me. “Go away.” She waves her hand in dismissal. “You’re all wet.”

For the briefest of moments, she glances over her shoulder and I catch a glimpse of the scars on her face. They are deep and ragged.

“Nice meeting you, Berkley.” She nods, the hair hanging over her face rippling with the movement, and walks out of the room, carrying a bottle of wine in one hand and her glass in the other.

Dominic watches her as she leaves and there’s heartbreak in his eyes. He sighs as he turns back to me. “Sorry, she doesn’t like it when I have people over.”

Without thinking, I lift my hand to my cheek as though I can feel her scars on my own skin.

“Car accident. Drunk driver,” Dominic says.

“I’m so sorry.” I’m unsure what else to say.

“Don’t be.” A hardness passes over his face. “She was the drunk one.” He stands in the middle of the kitchen just staring at the place his mother was standing moments before. Gone is any of our drunken joviality and in its place is a sort of awkward heaviness.

“I should go,” I say.

Dominic’s eyes snap to mine. “Don’t.” He takes a step forward. “Please don’t. It’s nice to have someone else in the house. It gets a little too much living here at times.”

I place my hand on his arm. “Why don’t you get your own apartment?”

He smiles but it’s a sad smile. “I can’t leave her. I’m all she’s got.”

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