“What about my dad?”
“Dominic,” I whisper, but he slaps my nipple again, making me flinch as my skin smarts.
“Tell me.”
“He was stuck, and we couldn’t free him.”
“Go on.”
“He ordered me to retrieve his gun from the glovebox.” Tears blur my vision, and I focus on a small stain on the ceiling. “He told me to save myself.”
Dominic has grown still, and when the silence stretches on, I finally gather the courage to look him in the eye.
My chest caves in at the sadness there.
“How did the affair start?”
I try to look away, but he grips my jaw and snaps my eyes back to his.
“How did it start, Camryn?”
I’m acutely aware of my naked state. It feels wrong. The urge to cover myself borders on suffocating, but Dominic won’t let me hide.
“I don’t know.” My voice is barely audible, but he hears it and grinds his teeth in response to the tears falling down my cheeks.
“Of course, you know.”
I try to shake my head, but he digs his fingers into my jaw. “I don’t know. It was like…”
“Like?”
I blink and more tears fall. “Like I was under the control of something—likewewere under control.”
His eyes flick between mine. Outside, the downpour transforms into light rain until it stops completely. Dominic continues watching me even as the sun peeks through the clouds.
“I don’t think it’s a mistake that we’re here,” I admit, remembering what Brittany said in the hospital. “I have this memory…”
He loosens his grip on my jaw and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.
“I saw a doll in your father’s office.”
Stiffening, he pauses with his fingers on the shell of my ear.
“The same doll as the one in the attic.” I raise a meaningful eyebrow.
Dominic knits his brows together in thought, then sits back in his seat, running a hand through his hair. He glances back at me—at my thighs, naked breasts, and tangled hair. His throat jumps, and I do as well when he slams his hand on the steering wheel.
“Fuck!” He trembles as he rests his elbow on the door and rubs his jaw. The scratch of his short beard is loud in the ensuing silence.
I sit up and shove my top down before bending to retrieve my shorts and panties from the footwell. Dominic says nothing while I pull them on and button them up. The lust I felt earlier is gone, replaced instead with feelings of vulnerability.
Tears burn the backs of my eyes when he continues rubbing his mouth and jaw while staring blankly ahead, as if I don’t exist anymore and the moment we shared moments ago never happened.
When he finally looks at me, I don’t know what to make of the haunted glaze in his eyes, but then he reaches out to palm my cheek and rubs his thumb over my skin in a soothing motion.
“Did I scare you?”
“No,” I lie.
