Page 82 of Whiskey Throttle
“You think you know everything, don't you?” Hollister's voice is steady, calmer than it should be given the circumstances. “You think you have it all figured out, but you don't know shit about what's been going on.”
“I don't know shit because you're not around, Hollister.”
“I'm not around? Who's the one always blowing me off? I call your ass to drag you out of that lonely place of yours, but all you do is bark at people. Hell, the only person you listen to is Diego, and that's probably because you needed him for your little serial killer adventure.”
My heart must be pounding too loudly in my ears, as I didn't just hear my son running around with a serial killer.
“You're involved with a serial killer, Dominic?”
The words slip from my mouth, harsh and blunt as my son's usual tone. He snorts, glares at me, then at Hollister, and then at the slender guy, who I learned is named Diego.
“You didn't tell your mom, Dom?” Diego's expression changes to astonishment when he acts. His shoulders slump forward, and he fidgets with his boots. His hand moves to his back, grimacing as if in pain. “That's messed up.”
The bulky one hums in agreement.
“Excuse the fuck out of me for having boundaries. You know what? Fuck this. FUCK BOTH OF YOU!”
With all judgment and scrutiny directed at Dominic, he lashes out. Like he always did when he was a child. His words are a slap, stinging and harsh. I take a step back, wrapping my arms around myself, trying to hold together the pieces of my heart that are threatening to shatter.
“I'm out of this fucking place.”
He slams his shoulder into Hollister as he passes him. I'm torn between following my son and staying for Hollister. Either way feels like a choice. A pro for one and a con for the other.
The bulky guy shrugs, looking uncomfortably at Hollister and me.
“I'll make sure he's okay,” he mutters before following Dominic out. The slender one lingers for a moment, his eyes soft with sympathy.
“He just needs time,” he offers quietly, before nodding at Hollister and looking at me.
I stand there, shaking, the adrenaline wearing off and leaving me feeling drained and hollow. Hollister's eyes meet mine, and I see the apology there, the regret for his part in this mess.
“I'll go.”
“Yeah. Probably for the best, Babs.”
CHAPTER 21
HOLLISTER
I haven’t been home after the shit show. Diego insisted it wasn’t good for me to be alone. Getting punched in the head. My black eye, nearly swollen shut. Cut and throbbing. Losing Dom and Babs. Em is hurt.
We were finally getting allowed to see him in the early hours of this morning. It took them a while to get him stabilized before they’d even let family back. Massi slept there. We left when their parents rushed in crying.
I rode bitch on Diego’s bike. Neither of us said anything during the ride to his loft. He warned me not to be an asshole to Isabella, who has been staying with him. Luckily, we got in too early for her to be awake on a Sunday morning.
But how I treated her before, outing him and all that bullshit, still makes me feel like a guilty bastard. I apologized to both of them several times. Now that I have lost someone important to me, I understand the panic he had that night. I see why he kicked me out and tried to make things right with her.
For now, I’m stuck in his guest bedroom, listening to them moving around in his living room or kitchen. I don’t remember falling asleep. More like collapsing onto his bed and staring at the ceiling in complete despair until sleep took over me.
I blame it on the Hawaiian scent he’s pumped into this place. He explained what it was once. It has a strange, calming effect. Probably why the guy is so relaxed all the time.
I’m still in the same clothes from the Hamptons. Dried blood on my shirt. My knuckles throb from where they landed on Dom. I don’t know exactly where I hit him, but I got him good from the sound of his hearty oomph. If I recall, the guys let me land that one. Then again, they let Dom land his first.
The cut above my eye split open again sometime during the night, smearing rust-colored lines across the pillowcases. I don’t bother to wipe them away. Let Diego bitch about it later. At worst, I’ll buy him new ones.
I press the heels of my palms into my forehead, rubbing the headache throbbing there. The pain from my eye beats opposite the pain radiating from my skull. I’m going to need some aspirin if I’m going to be worth anything today. I sit up slowly, every muscle aches like Dom wrestled me to the ground and beat the shit out of me.
He would have if the guys hadn’t held him back. If security hadn’t charged into the waiting room seconds after Babs left, ready to break up a fight that had already ended. We were warned that if it happened again, we’d be thrown out and banned from the campus.
