Page 308 of Phobia
My alarm makes me jump, but my eyes are hard to open, and my head’s too heavy to move. I’ve no idea what time I managed to drift off, but what little sleep I had was plagued by nightmares. Well,anightmare, really, the same one I always have.
When I was awake, I stared at my ceiling and plotted ways to get out of this—the most obvious option was to go to Italy and never return. I could use my savings to get somewhere cheap… I’d be fine for a bit. I almost convinced myself it was possible, but then I envisioned getting a phone call from a distraught Kelly informing me that Ant was dead.
I can’t run away from this, yet I can’t do it either, so I’m choosing denial. I’m going to Milan to eat, drink, and find some Mafia Don who’s scarier than theDomruining my life. He’ll instantly fall in love with me and get me and my family out of this mess.
I played it all out in my head, and it went perfectly—until he wanted an heir.
Groaning, I drag myself out of bed and into my ensuite. The truth is my only choice is to go with Dom when he comes knocking and hope there’s a chance to make him change his mind. I get that he couldn’t back down in front of his men, but they’re never going to know… he could pretend.
Stepping into the shower, I let the water scold my skin, the pain a welcome distraction.It was just one night.How did it come to this? Who even is he? A club owner and what… a gangster?
Uncle Jude tells stories about how he once met the Kray twins in his dad’s local. He was only young, no harm would’ve come to him, but he always said he could sense the fear in the pub, the power they exuded, and even then, it fascinated him.
I’ll admit. The world of the dangerous and forbidden is alluring, and so is Dom. He’s been on my mind every night, but I was happy to keep it a fantasy. It was safer that way.
Don’t try to make sense of this, Naomi,Dom said, but what else can I do?
The heat’s making me dizzy, so I turn off the shower, rub my red skin with a towel and then scrub my teeth. What’s the point in being gentle with my body since I don’t get a say in what happens to it?
I thought I was in control… what a joke!
Pulling on the jeans, t-shirt, and jumper I left out last night, I brush my hair and sit at my dresser. My green eyes are dull; the purple underneath, however, begs for attention, so I apply some makeup to hide the damage.
I check my phone—6:03—I can’t face food, so I may as well go to the airport.
One more inspection of my face tells me I’ll pass for mildly respectable—no need for passport control to raise the alarm—then head for my bedroom door. On touching the handle, I suddenly pause, the hairs on my arms standing tall. The air’s heavy, and my heart rate has quickened, a sense of foreboding looming over me.
I shake it off.Just open the door, Naomi.
My hand obliges, but the second the door opens, I wish it hadn’t.
“Good morning, Treacle.”
I stand frozen in the doorway, staring at my doom, who appears very happy with the situation, judging by his relaxed smile. Dom looks fresh, his clean, addictive scent wafting over to me. He doesn’t look like he lost a second of sleep.
“What… How…” I don’t even know where to start. I know what he’s doing here, but the ‘hows’ are a little more complex. The list of questions will be never-ending and pointless. They won’t change a thing.
“It was good of you to pack,” he says casually, and when I look at the floor, I see my bags are already gone. “You won’t be needing this, though.” Dom holds up my passport and then slides it into his back pocket.
My heart sinks to the floor. That’s my escape fantasy fucked.
I’m on the pill. I’ll be OK.I repeat the mantra that eventually got me off the floor last night, but now that he’s here, it’s not enough to drive the fear away. It’s time for Plan B.
Forcing my body to work, I step forward, wringing my hands before placing them gently against his stomach, ignoring the welcoming heat of his body that part of me, hidden away, wants to get lost in. “Can we talk about this… just you and me?”
“We’ve got nine days to talk.”
“Can-”
Dom’s firm grip on my chin stops my words. He tilts it up, forcing me to look him in the eyes. “No negotiation, Naomi. None. Whatsoever.”
I tremble against him, but he doesn’t react. “Can’t you see how scared I am?” I whisper the words, barely holding back my tears. “You could have anyone… why me?”
He sighs and softens, his eyes roaming my face. “Stop thinking. Stop questioning.”
“I just want to understand why you’re doing this.”
“Because I want to,” he says unapologetically. “You’re the only one here who sees this as a punishment.” He leans lower and kisses my forehead, then takes my hand and pulls me to the door.
