AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘Dornan what?’ John ground out. Dornan’s been giving you twenty dollars to suck his dick? John highly doubted it, but then he’d also doubted Dornan was capable of cold-blooded murder of a woman he’d once professed to love.
Caroline flopped onto her back again. ‘Julie’s at Dornan’s,’ she whispered, and then she passed out cold.
Fuck. Double fuck. Of all the places in the world, the one he least wanted to find his daughter was anywhere near Dornan Ross. John sped the whole short drive to his house. It was only a couple of blocks, but it felt like an eternity.
Take my cunt wife, he mused as he walked up to Dornan’s front door and knocked sharply, three sharp raps that shook the door. Burn my house to the ground. You can have everything of mine, but you cannot have my daughter.
Or my Mariana, he realised a moment later.
Dornan’s oldest son, Chad, answered the door. He opened it without a word, and John noticed his knuckles were raw and bloody. He nodded in greeting, walking past Chad and down the long hallway that demarcated the rooms in Dornan’s Spanish-style abode. So many rooms for so many sons – six there had been, and it seemed once you had six, you got one for free. At least that was the way it had gone, with Dornan stumbling upon his unknown son, his seventh progeny, the secret John had kept for sixteen years as he broke his ass sending Stephanie money to keep them from starving and losing their goddamn house, far away from Dornan’s lethal lifestyle.
John wondered how long it would be before Dornan figured out that he’d known of this seventh son all along, from the moment he’d personally purchased the pregnancy test and made Stephanie take it in a McDonald’s bathroom in West Hollywood. He couldn’t remember what the fuck he’d been doing all the way up in Wankville that day – no doubt something to do with drugs or cash or beating somebody up for payments owed – but he did remember how pale Stephanie’s face had turned when she handed him the piss stick with two lines in it. And he did remember shelling out three hundred bucks in twenties, a greyhound ticket to Colorado purchased with a fake ID, and a promise that he’d help her if she decided not to come back.
Dornan had blamed Stephanie for stealing his son away all those years ago, but if he found out his best friend was the instigator of the entire ‘Get the fuck away from the Ross Family’ plan, John knew he’d retaliate. Painfully. And Dornan knew Juliette was John’s entire existence. He’d give anything, kill anyone, for his only child.
His only child, who right now was applying an ice pack to Dornan’s nose as he sat and smoked and drank whiskey at his dining table. He grinned when he saw John, but it wasn’t a friendly gesture so much as a warning.
‘Juliette,’ John said, aiming for casual yet loving father, but ending up sounding strangled. She turned sharply, her face drawn, concern etched in her features.
‘Hey, Dad. I’m just helping Uncle Dornan.’
John nodded, circling the pair as he moved closer. No sudden moves. What to say? He could blame their need for a hasty departure on Caroline.
‘Sweetheart, that’s nice of you, but we have to go,’ John said, his eyes never leaving Dornan’s.
Dornan smirked, putting his hand on the ice pack and pulling his head back slightly. ‘It’s okay, darlin’,’ he said, motioning towards John with a tilt of his chin, ‘your daddy seems upset.’
John ignored him. ‘Your mother’s not good,’ he said. ‘She’s sick. I need to get back to her.’
He noticed, for the first time, the kid sitting on the other side of the room. The refrigerator had been obscuring his presence, and since he hadn’t moved a muscle since John had walked in he’d attracted zero attention.
‘You been there the whole time?’ he asked Jason, who nodded. ‘Jesus. This kid here’s like a goddamn ninja.’
Juliette glanced at Jase as she dabbed antiseptic ointment onto a piece of gauze and continued to tend to the wounds John had inflicted on Dornan’s face. A cut right above his nose looked red and angry; purple shadows were starting to appear under his eyes. It wasn’t a pretty sight, but it didn’t seem to worry his psychotic brother in arms, who sat still like a kid waiting for their lollipop at the fucking doctor’s surgery, getting their shots.
‘That’s my boy,’ Dornan said evenly, glancing at Jase and then back at John. ‘Stealthy, like his brothers.’ He smiled at Juliette, and it was the first gesture John had seen that seemed genuine. ‘You didn’t have to do this, sweetheart. You’re a good girl. Good to our family.’
Sweetheart. Please.
‘Juliette,’ John said. Forceful, this time. He’d rather she hated him, as long as she still listened to him. There was no time to play soft cop right now, not when Dornan could reach out and pluck out her eyeballs before John could so much as clear the space between them. Not that Dornan would hurt Juliette. She was like a daughter to him. Had been his daughter, really, for the first few months of her life, until John had been released from prison and was able to get back to the new family he’d unwittingly created when he screwed Caroline in a haze of weed and booze. He didn’t really drink anymore, because he sure as shit didn’t want to end up making that mistake twice. Having one daughter – one beautiful, smart, perfect daughter – to keep tabs on in a vicious underworld where the things you loved became your weaknesses, was hard enough without adding more to the mix.
‘Did I ever tell you the story about when you were born?’ Dornan asked Juliette, his eyes all for John.
Juliette looked kind of confused, but she could stay confused. She didn’t need to know this asshole was responsible for her survival in her first six months while her mother sold herself for blow and slept in gutters.
‘We’re going,’ John said, stepping forward and tugging Juliette’s elbow.
‘Dad!’ she protested, stumbling a little as she followed him. John turned towards the hallway and the exit it promised, but suddenly he was blocked.
By Jason.
Little bastard.
‘Did he hurt you?’ Jason asked Juliette, alarm in his eyes.
Juliette shrugged John’s hand off, wrapping her arms around herself. ‘What?’ she asked. ‘No. I’m fine. I’ll call you later.’
Mercifully, she headed for the front door.
