AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He’s got something in his hand, and he’s pressing it to his inner thigh. The thing glints in the glow of the fickle light in this corner of the room, and I swallow. Is that a knife?
I step closer, mesmerized and horrified at the same time.
He presses against his leg again, and his head drops back as he pants a little. He wipes his hand on his thigh and smiles at the blood on his fingers. He cuts again, and I open my mouth, wanting to tell him to stop, that this is dangerous. He could get infected. Cut too deep. No sound comes out.
My mind is whirring. I can’t process what I’m seeing.
This is a mafia college.
My father was a criminal.
Dom cuts himself.
The world has tilted on its axis, and I don’t know up from down anymore.
“Fuck, yes,” he grunts after making another cut. “Fuck you, Daddy, and your bride-to-be, and Mack. Fuck you all.”
He spits the word daddy out with more venom than I’ve ever heard as his head drops back, and he wipes the blood on his hand across his forehead like war paint.
Holy shit, Dom is very fucked up. Very fucked up indeed.
He hates me, too, as if I needed further proof. I must get out of here.
I’ve got to find someone to talk to before I implode.
Stepping backward, intending to slip behind the screen, my ankle hits something. The loud clatter has my heart stopping.
Dom’s eyes snap open, and his gaze lands on me.
Oh, fuck.
He pushes up off the mattress and pulls his pants up. I can’t help but notice the massive bulge behind his briefs before he covers them. He’s hard.
He is cutting himself, and he’s hard?
“What are you doing here, Duchess?”
His voice is low and slurred. Is he drunk? I glance to the side of the mattress and see the bottle of scotch, lid off to one side.
Great, he’s angry, drunk, and in the mood for pain. All my instincts scream at me to run, but I seem unable to move.
“Dom, you … are you okay?”
He sneers. “Of course, I’m fucking okay. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Helplessly, I gesture at his leg.
He watches me and then laughs. “Oh, you think because of what you saw that I’m not okay? It’s not what you think.”
It’s absolutely what I think, but I’m not about to argue with him now.
“I need to go,” I say.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asks again.
“I came looking for …” I trail off.
“Tino?” he asks in a nasty, sing-song voice. “He’s probably fucking Verity.”
