Page 7 of Dom 3
“I’m sorry, Miss Twyla,” Dom said in a low voice with his chin resting against her head. “You know your son was solid. He went out loyal, and I’ll make sure the whole world knows it too.”
She sniffed and hugged him even tighter, “He was my baby, Dom. My baby boy. Ya’ll were supposed to help him bury me, not the other way around.”
Dom didn’t move but he didn’t look away either; just stood there allowing her to grieve. When she finally loosened her grip, he gently ran his hand over her shoulder the calm her. “That’s why we here,” he told her. “You don’t gotta carry this by yourself. Everything for the funeral’s paid for with a clean bill and whatever you need whether food, clothes, bills… don’t ever hesitate to say it, and it’s done. You family, you know that. Money can’t replace him but just know we got you.”
She slowly nodded her head with her lips trembling as her gaze dropped to my stomach since that’s where my hand was rested. It was like second nature, and I didn’t even have a stomach yet. I hurriedly removed it and folded my arms across my chest. She didn’t say it, but I knew what she was thinking because women like her were wise enough to know when a new life was on the way, meanwhile the life she created had been taken and it made me feel horrible.
She stepped to the side, letting us in. The house smelled like mothballs, old fried fish grease, and just a touch of Pine Sol. Plastic covered the couch like they did in the old days, and family pictures were lined up on every inch of the walls. They showed Ramon in a little league uniform, Ramon at prom, Ramon grinning in cap and gown. His whole life was right there, in front of us nailed to the wall. Dom lowered himself onto the couch and the plastic crinkling under his weight could be heard. I sat beside him, while Miss Twyla eased down across from us in her worn recliner with a balled up tissue in her hand.
“You make sure they don’t be out there painting my boy like some rugged ass thug when they mention him,” she said as her voice cracked. “Ramon was more than that. He was good to me. He always came by, brought me groceries, cut the grass… he didn’t deserve to die like that.”
Dom leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and spoke in a steady tone full of respect. “That ain’t happenin’. To us, Ramon ain’t no headline in no fuckin’ news. He’s our little brother and when we bury him, the whole city gon’ see that he meant somethin’ to his people.”
Her tears began to fall again. “Just don’t let them forget him.”
“They won’t,” Dom said, shaking his head. “As long as I’m alive, they won’t… you can believe that.”
It became silent for a moment that was only broken by the muffled sounds coming through the thin walls from the neighbor’s house since the houses were lined up so close next to each other. I glanced around her living room allowing my eyes to scan the crooked blinds, a stack of bills on the table, an untouched pan of spaghetti that didn’t seem like anybody was going to eat.
“Do you need anything else for the service?” I asked making sure my voice was gentle. “More flowers, bigger choir, more limos, whatever it is, I’ll make it happen.”
Miss Twyla’s shoulders slouched as she shook her head. “No, baby. Y’all already done more than enough. I just… I just need to get through it.”
Dom stood then walked to the wall and traced a finger over one of Ramon’s pictures making sure to allow it to linger on his graduation photo. He stared at it for a long time with his jaw locked and his chest rising and falling like he was fighting a battle within. Then he turned back around. “We’ll be there, front row… all of us, and anybody lookin’ for a reason to test that gon’regret it.” He said with that dark, promising look in his eyes. He was going to kill El Blanca, I knew it.
Miss Twyla closed her eyes, with the tears still sliding down her cheeks. “Thank you, baby.”
Dom walked back, bent down, and kissed her forehead. “You don’t gotta thank me. Ramon was ours, that means you ours too.”
When we finally stood up to leave, she walked us to the door, as her small frame led the way. The neighbors were still watching us with their curious eyes scanning every inch of our bodies. Dom slid his arm around my waist, guiding me down the walkway. Behind us, the door shut softly, and, in that moment, it hit me… we weren’t just carrying a cartel. We were carrying every mother, every family, and every name that got fucked up in this life as well.Did I want that for my kid?
The ride back to Brickell felt longer than usual because every damn red light took forever and stayed red longer, while we couldn’t help but to do what we did best and watch every person, and street crack we rode past. Every turn felt like it was dragging another memory behind it, just daunting as hell. When we finally reached my building, I half expected him to drop me off and head out like he usually did when his everything around him was so demanding but instead, he had the driver to park and kill the engine while he looked straight ahead for a minute.
“How you feelin’?” he asked in a low voice.
“I’m fine,” I said. “You?”
He looked at me with a look I couldn’t quite pinpoint on his face. “Could be better. Could be worse… come on.”
He got out first, gave a quick signal to his people in the other trucks, and waited for me as one of his people led, me in the middle, and Dom right behind me which was his way of making sure I was covered from the front and the back. Once we got upstairs, the second I opened the door that familiarity of thescent of my penthouse hit my nostrils there was no place like home. The sun was beginning to settle, and the city lights were starting to break through the glass wall and mirrors. This was my favorite time of the day because below, the water looked so beautiful and calming.
I removed my shoes, sighed, and leaned against the counter. “I can’t believe that boy is gone,” I whispered, more to myself than to him.
Dom didn’t say anything at first. He walked up behind me and just wrapped his arms around my waist. I had wanted this affection from him for so long, I was almost afraid to admit that our marriage was actually starting to feel real now, the question is…was that a good thing? Or could this be the start of something bad because the feelings being out on the forefront now?His chain brushed against my neck when he leaned in and kissed the side of my head. For a man who could command a whole room with just his voice, he was quiet in a way that made me feel safe.
“You did good today,” he finally said. “I know you tough, but I didn’t know if your hormones would cause you to break or what.”
“I was just doing what needed to be done. This is what I was trained to do… wear a game face on the outside, surpassing emotions on the inside.”
He let out a light chuckle, which he had been doing a little more around me. His light smiles caused me to ease up a little too. It made me realize that while we were comfortable with each other, a lot of times it was also like holding our breath around each other trying to uphold our contracted marriage. “You always say that. You just don’t like taking credit for shit.”
“I don’t have to,” I smirked, turning around still in his arms to face him. “You see it.”
He looked at me for a long time, with that slow careful kind of stare that felt like he was undressing my damn soul. His lightly brushed his thumb across my jaw, and before I could even think, he kissed me. It was one of those kisses like he was telling me to stop thinking so damn much.Wow, this is what it feels like to be loved by Dominic Royal out loud,I thought.
When we finally stopped kissing, I exhaled and rested my head against his chest since he was much taller than me. “You ever get tired of being the strong one babe?” I asked realizing what I had just done. I glanced up at him with the ‘oh shit’ look because I had never slipped up and called him anything besides Dom, King, or hubby when I was being sarcastic.
His demeanor didn’t change, instead the look in his eyes became more intense if anything. “I don’t get tired baby; I get quiet and that’s a big difference.”
