Page 18 of Dangerous Games

“I’m sorry. I was lost in thought.”

The man smiles at me softly and places the food in front of me. The scent wafts up to my nose and I’m instantly in heaven. It smells delicious and my mouth buds start watering. I glance up at Dominic who isn’t even looking at me. He’s not only cocky; he’s so confident that he doesn’t even have to watch me take the first bite to know he is right. I do it quickly, sneaking a spoonful of the soup down before he can see my face. It melts in my mouth like magic, and I’m in pure ecstasy. I hate that he’s right, that he knows me like this. And I hate him, for no reason other than he seems to be ahead of the game by two steps every time.

I am three bites in when I look up and see a smug grin on Dominic’s face. He hasn’t touched his food yet. I enjoy the soup so much I can’t even give him a dirty look; it’s not physically possible while I’m so enraptured with the food. When I look at Jimmy, however, my heart stops. His face is red, his eyes narrowed. I glance at his hands, fisted next to his plate. He’s looking over my shoulder at something or someone behind me. I don’t want to know what has Jimmy so worked up, but like every single victim in a thriller, I have to turn to see.

The hair on my arms and the back of my neck stands at attention, tiny little soldiers obeying my fight-or-flight response. I turn slowly, anticipating something that may shock the living hell out of me and I’m not wrong.

Clad in a black tuxedo with silver cummerbund and tie stands my worst nightmare. He grins like a fool with perfect white teeth. His hair is silver now, not the jet-black hair he had when it happened, but it’s the same man. Same beady black eyes, same scar on his right eyebrow, same crooked lip. Ronald James Gallagher the third is here?

My chest tightens, my vagina instantly contracts, clamping shut in terror. I think I may throw up, which is a shame because I love this food so much. But the fear response is too strong. My heart is racing and my palms sweaty. I look at Dominic to see him studying me, like a mouse in an incubator being experimented on. In his eyes I see something strange, as if he truly is trying to get a rise out of me or find out what Jimmy and I are made of.

“Good evening, Dominic… Nan, Jimmy,” the man says, winking. “Good to see you again.” He rests his hands on the back of the empty chair next to me and I feel the bile rising.

Dominic planned this. He had to have. Jimmy is beat-red, ready to explode, and I take his hand. “It’s okay, Jimmy. Don’t cause a scene.”

“A scene?” he snaps in a harsh whisper. “The man tried to kill me.”

Dominic’s coat flashes again, revealing the gun to both Jimmy and me, and Jimmy calms down like a trained dog. I, however, remain panicked. I’m trembling, unable to stop the adrenaline response in my body. I’m still shaking as Dominic stands, ushering Gallagher away from us, and it doesn't stop until we’re back at his place and I’m curled in a ball on the bed.

I don’t know what he was trying to prove other than he knows what happened to me, but it ruined me. I take the bottle of whiskey left on the nightstand next to a clean tumbler and drink straight from the source. Before the bottle is halfway gone, I’m passed out, nightmares of Ronald Gallagher clawing at my skin tormenting me.

11

DOMINIC

Isit watching her sleep. She’s so peaceful when she’s sleeping, which is a far cry from the tantrum she had on the way home and the way she assaulted me with her fists, as if she could hurt me. Her seeing Gallagher was only the tip of the iceberg for what I have planned. She doesn’t know, but I’m planning more than just revenge for my mother’s death. Nanette brought something to life in me that needed to come to life, a part of me that long lay dead.

Now, she rests, thanks to the tea Mika prepared for her again. She drank it willingly; I didn’t even have to sneak it into her without her knowing. Mika told her it would help her sleep, and now she lays on that bed snoring, though her sleep is fitful. I’m sure it’s fraught with nightmares, the way she tosses. She moans and lashes out at the air, her brain working out for her in her sleep what she refuses to allow her heart to feel during her waking hours.

I sip my whiskey, wondering what it’s like inside her mind. I know how it feels to be trapped in mine. My worst enemies don’t suffer the way I do, though I will make them suffer for what they did. There are just a few more pieces left in place, things that need to line up, information I need. Which is where Jimmy comes in. That buffoon better produce the results I need fast, because I need everything to come to fruition at the same time.

I look up as the door opens. It’s Jimmy, staggering in with a bloodied nose. He holds a handkerchief to his face to keep the blood from soiling his clothing—my treat after the lashing he suffered. His attempt to rough up Gallagher was unsuccessful again, though this time it was only due to the fact that the bouncer at the restaurant pulled him off the older man. It was a sight and Nanette missed it all. She was already hiding away in my car at the time. Shaken to her core.

“You sick bastard,” Jimmy says, bringing the blood-soaked cloth away from his face to look at it then pressing it back there. He sits in one of the leather armchairs in the corner of my room, his eyes fixed on me.

“Sick is a relative term. You don’t even know how deep my disease runs, Jimmy.” I turn back to the screen where Nanette is displayed, now tossing again. The blanket is wrapped tightly around her torso, her long legs strewn out across the bed. Her black panties peek out, sexy as hell, but not tempting at the moment. I have business, and she needs rest.

Jimmy’s trained eyes turn to the monitor, and he gawks. He stands and walks closer to it, leaning in to have a closer look. His jaw drops and he gasps. “That’s my sister, you pervert. You’re watching my sister? Turn that off!” He reaches for the monitor but there is no off button there. He won’t be able to turn it off. His hands frantically search for the button that doesn’t exist and his bloody rag falls to the ground, a trickle of the sticky red liquid trailing down his upper lip.

“Save your time, Jimmy. There is no off switch and I’m not turning it off. See how fitful she is? See how tormented she is in her sleep? You did this to her, Jimmy. You.”

He turns to glare at me and leans over my desk as if he’s forgotten the lesson he just learned. No one messes with Dominic Gusev, at least not those who wish to live.

“You sick bastard. You get off on watching her? Do you watch her change too? Imagine sick fantasies about her and touch yourself?” He pushes the papers off my desk onto the floor and draws the back of his arm across his face, wiping the blood away. It stains his shirt, but that was already ruined during the altercation at the restaurant.

“Who needs to masturbate with Nanette bends over and hikes her skirt freely? She’s a nice piece of ass, Jimmy.”

My comment has him lurching across my desk fists clenched. He thinks he is stronger than me, but I stop him by grabbing his wrist and twisting it. He rolls off the end of the desk in a heap of whimpers and yelps, until he’s nothing more than a pile of sniveling flesh at my feet. I let him go and he scrambles away.

“I can’t believe what type of man you are. You are really sick, you know that?”

“Sicker than Gallagher?” I watch him glare at me angrily, narrowing his eyes to thin slits. He’s reading me, trying to guess my game, but I have no game. Not this time. I need my answers and my revenge, and Jimmy will have a chance to prove his worth if he just follows my instructions too.

“What do you mean?” He is playing stupid, as if I don’t already know that Gallagher molested Nanette for years before raping her right in front of her brother.

“You know what I mean.” I rise and straighten my tie, looking back at the monitor. Nanette is moaning, swatting at the air again, her whole body now exposed. The tank top she wears is bunched around her chest; her body now curled into a ball. She’s fighting, seeking her own revenge now, and I want to give it to her.

“You know nothing, Dominic. You need to stay out of it. I’m here to do a job for you, nothing more. You keep your hands off my sister.” He says his piece from several paces away this time, not trying to harm me. It’s a good thing. I don’t mess around. Jimmy will be walking out of here much bloodier if he attempts to assault me the way Nanette did in the car. The fight in that woman…

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