Unlawful Temptations: Chapter 29

So far, age twenty-one could piss off.

And not just because I may or may not have been targeted by murderous criminals.

But because I got a motherfucking cold from night swimming.

Go figure.

I was a lousy sick person, too. Pathetic as they came. I’d been holed up in mine and Charlotte’s bedroom since I got back from the hotel two days ago. That’s where I was now, showered in crumpled up toilet paper wads and with my face stuffed against my lumpy pillow trying not to die.

My head felt like it was about to explode from all the sinus pressure and snot.

A couple knocks thumped from the bedroom door, followed by its whining groan as it opened.

“Katty?”

Face still smashed into my pillow, I muffled, “Hey, Bugs.”

“Um, your friend is here.”

“Which one?”

“The one that looks like a mean prince.”

My heavy head perked up at her flippant tone and choice of words. Dominic?

Wait—

“Did you answer the front door?” I asked in a rush, pushing myself up to fix my sister with a scolding glower. “Charlotte, you—”

“No, Mommy did.”

Her answer cut me off and shut me up. I blinked, a cough tingling at the back of my throat from talking. “She’s awake?”

She nodded brightly, twisting her toes into the carpet. “Mhm. She made breakfast too.”

“She did?”

This time, the cough surpassed a tickle, and I turned my face into the bend of my elbow, hacking up half a lung and scoring my throat raw. Groaning something pitiable, I sifted my hand through the toasty bed sheets until my fingers found the shape of my phone. Flipping it over, the screen lit up with the time and missed notifications.

My eyes jumped wide. “It’s almost 12:30!” Cue another coughing fit before, “Oh my God, Bugs. I’m so sorry. You should have woken me up.”

“You were sleeping,” she said like it was obvious. “Mommy stayed with me and put on Finding Nemo, but then she fell asleep on the couch before the part with Squirt. She woke up when your friend got here.”

Shit! Dominic.

Thoughts about my mother’s abnormal behavior dashed to the back of my mind. Her acting like a real mom was probably just a sober fluke, anyhow.

“Yeah. Uh, I’ll be right there.”

Charlotte beamed and skipped out, leaving me wallowing as I drove my legs to kick out from the warm sheets and find stable ground. Every move I made, there was a pathetic noise to accompany it. A whine, a grunt, a mangled curse. They all tracked my journey to the bathroom where I somehow managed to brush my teeth without gagging more than once.

Lazily, I threw my tangled hair into a careless bun and faced the mirror.

“Oh. Oh no.”

Tired bags hung under my eyes, and I was a shit ton more pale than usual. So much for all that tanning. My nose was bright red and my lips were cracked. There was a line of dried up drool on my chin too that I hastily wiped away.

I sighed at the mirror, mumbling. “This is what Satan’s asshole looks like.”

Whatever. Maybe Dominic will make a run for it now and quicken the inevitable.

On weak legs, I shuffled out to the living room where Dominic was waiting, tall and breathtaking and completely out of place in this ugly little house.

The saddest noise creaked out of me when I saw him, suddenly flushed hot with embarrassment that I was sick at all and that he had to see me like this. My emotions always sat closer under my skin whenever I was sick, and it made for a lot of uncharacteristic displays.

I snatched a blanket from the couch and wrapped it around my shoulders, sulking up to him. “Are you here to babysit me today?”

We hadn’t seen each other since yesterday morning. He and Ryan had to go back to the station and do… whatever detectives do, and I spent the day in bed with some no-name officers stationed outside our house.

Dominic nodded, a lazy smile contorting his mouth as he completed the distance between us. “Not feeling any better?”

I groaned in response, and his large hand found my forehead. My shoulders slumped and eyes rolled as he checked my temperature, but there was also this stupid little nagging twitch tugging at my lips that I couldn’t get rid of.

He drew his hand back. “You don’t have a fever, so that’s good.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

He angled his face down, stern gray peeking beneath dark eyebrows. “That will not become a thing.”

Usually, I probably would have challenged him or teased that he might like the kink too much to admit it, but today?

I sneezed instead.

Charlotte ran up out of nowhere, holding a roll of toilet paper out to me. “Here you go, Katty.”

I sniffled, accepting her offering. “Thanks, Bugs.”

“Toilet paper?” I met Dominic’s arched brow while ripping off a few sheets.

“Yeah. Tissues are a rich person’s game.”

The hook in his eyebrow deepened, and I blew my nose into the rough paper. Below us, Charlotte pointed to something I hadn’t noticed yet.

“What’s in that bag?”

Through slitted eyes, I finished wiping my nose and glanced down to see what she was referring to. Slung around Dominic’s forearm was a white plastic bag with something heavy at the bottom. He lifted his arm up, a crooked smile widening across his face.

“Soup.”

A slow, unwanted simper spread up my cheeks, and I sunk my teeth into my chapped bottom lip to keep it from taking over. He brought me soup. Soup.

What a stupidly cliche, totally unnecessary, thoughtful thing to do.

I plucked the bag from his hand, still trying not to smile.

“Cheeky bastard.”

His grin broadened before I had a chance to turn away, and the sight of it crawled beneath my highly-sensitive skin and burrowed a warmth there that lingered like smoke.

“What kind of soup?” I asked to distract from the tingly feeling.

“The only kind to feed someone who’s sick.”

“Chicken noodle?”

He came around me as I set myself up at the kitchen counter, sliding onto a stool. “You sounded like you could use some on the phone last night.”

Yeah, get that. He called me. Dominic called me on his drive home from work and we talked—well, he talked—and I tried not to blow his ear out with all my coughing. He wanted to update me on my ‘situation’. Which, the update was that there was no update. It was still all theorizing and him being overly cautious, but we talked until I fell asleep with him on the phone. His sonorous voice was the last thing I heard before drifting off into a sick-induced sleep—in more ways than one—just like in one of those god-awful teen romances.

I even woke up around midnight to see I had a text from him.

‘Sweet dreams, Ms. Sanders.’

My freaking lightning did all sorts of flips and shit when I read it.

I shifted the blanket around my shoulders so I could still wear it and eat, and Dominic helped get the container of soup out of the bag while Charlotte grabbed me a spoon. It was strange being waited on instead of the reverse, but right now, I was too stuffed up to care.

Steam billowed up and out of the container of soup as Dominic uncapped the top, heating my face and wrapping around my sore bones. The smell, oh god, the smell was heavenly. I didn’t waste a single second before dipping my spoon in the homey dish and piling a mouthful of broth and goodness into my mouth.

A moan that would have embarrassed most women shredded up my thankful throat. It was the perfect temperature, savory flavors sliding down and soothing the ache in my throat that had been there all night.

Dominic hummed in amusement, his chest brushing my back.

“I take it you’re pleased?”

Without removing my attention from the soup, I answered. “If this soup had a dick, you’d be in trouble.”

Airy chuckles flowed through him, his chest shaking against me as he laughed. I poured another spoonful of soup back, moaning again.

“I thought you might. Maya calls this my sicken chicken soup. It’s cured every cold it’s been up against.”

“Wait.” My spoon paused mid-air. “You made this?”

He simply nodded.

I was sure I was looking at him like he wasn’t real, like he’d been sent to me just to prove how unrealistic a man had to be to snag my attention.

“You catch bad guys, look like you walked out of a GQ magazine, and now you cook?”

Most men might have transitioned to looking pompous after my compliment spew. Dominic, however, grew more content than anything. His stare warmed, and my heart did that awful flipping, tingly thing again. It was sicker than I was.

We needed a subject change.

“On top of all that,” I cleared my throat, readying another sip of soup. “From what I’ve felt, you have a huge—”

A bearpaw hand slipped over my mouth, shutting me down. I tipped my head back to him, just feeling my stare sparkling with all that mirth he loved to punish. His was sparkling too, glinting with all sorts of adoring stars I wished would blind me so I wouldn’t have to know they were there.

I wasn’t anyone who deserved adoring.

His voice dropped to an alluring murmur. “Feeling better, I see.”

I hummed in agreement, letting him feel my smirk as it rose beneath his palm. And you know what? I actually really was feeling better. It was going to take a hell of a lot of lying to myself later on to convince myself it was because of the soup.

Stupid cold making me stupider than normal.

“So, who’s watching Maya today?” I asked, swallowing more soup.

“My mom agreed to stay in town until we find someone else.”

Then, I did that thing where I started talking before I thought about what I was saying.

“She send any well wishes to the whore from the shed?”

A smugly pleased grin was beginning to rise up my cheeks, but one disapproving glower from Dominic cut it dead. I ducked my head back towards the soup. “Sorry.”

He set a hand on the back of my stool, his body heat burning hotter. “You have an unnatural ability to insult yourself.”

“I was joking.” Sort of. “I just—”

Out of nowhere, a coughing fit plagued my body. The spoon I was holding plunked back into the soup; my hand slapped to my chest to try and stabilize the choking and the pain. Dominic rubbed circles on my back, and I twisted into him, my other hand finding his stark gray shirt and grabbing onto the soft fibers for dear life.

“Oh God, I’m dying,” I wheezed, tears forming in the corners of my eyes from all the effort.

I rested the top of my head to his chest, feeling every deep note resonate through as he spoke. “Don’t you think that’s a tad dramatic?”

I tried and failed to give a good thwack to his chest, hand crumpling and fingers latching onto him for support again. “You can’t be mean to me when I’m sick.”

A smile tinted his voice. “I brought you soup.”

“Yeah, and…” I arched my head back all the way so his handsome face and pursed mouth hovered inches away, and all thoughts went fuzzy and fragmented.

Instead, I croaked pathetically. “I’m too sick to think of a good comeback.”

His pillowy lips twitched. “Then shut up and eat your soup.”

I inhaled to reply… and then crumbled back into his chest.

“Okay.”

See? Total anomaly of a person.

Dominic continued rubbing my back in soothing strokes as I put back a few more spoonfuls of soup. Charlotte had busied herself somewhere behind us, and for just a couple precious moments, all was still.

Not quiet, but still.

Big difference.

Then, a weed I hadn’t seen more than a few glimpses of over the last month reared her head.

“Aren’t you her boss?”

I swallowed my mouthful of soup, this bite curdling sour as I turned to my mother. There she was, standing not so tall and thinner than I’d ever seen. Her skin was ghostly pale though, so veiled I could see every noxious vein glowing beneath her flesh. The bags beneath her eyes had sunk deep, hollowing out enough that they molded her face into something truly eerie.

She looked wrecked, like a gust from my weak and haggard lungs would break her in half. Even in her worst highs, she’d never looked this bad, and I tried not to wonder what’d changed.

“Was. He was my boss. Life update, I got fired.”

I turned back to my soup.

“Because you were sleeping with your boss?”

Annoyance scraped up my throat, and I twisted to face her again, wielding my spoon like a knife.

“No, Kathy. I wasn’t fired for sleeping with him,” I said pointedly. “We haven’t made it past second base yet.”

Dominic squeezed the space between my neck and shoulder, not hard enough that it hurt, but enough that I understood it was a reprimanding move. I pitched him a look and flicked my eyes around in a furtive roll, wishing I could disappear and drown in my soup.

The floorboards whined as Kathy took a bare-footed step towards us, her arms crossed and hands cupped beneath her elbows. Her weary stare was tacked on Dominic.

“You’re a cop, right?”

Detective.

But he didn’t correct her.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Why are there so many of you…” She flitted her bony fingers towards the front door. “Hanging around here yesterday and today?”

Dominic shot me a sharp look. “You didn’t tell her?”

I shrugged. “Why would I?”

“Tell me what?” Kathy interjected. She even tried to sound concerned.

Cute.

A weighted exhale dragged out of Dominic, and I couldn’t tell if he was about to scold me or launch into the tale of what was going on. Thankfully, before he could do either, his phone rang.

He dropped a vexed look to it, jaw clenching. He gave my mom a polite glance. “Excuse me.”

Moving to the door, he jerked it open and put himself on the other side of it. The sound of stress and police jargon muffled through the chipping wood. It was the only sound besides Charlotte playing behind us to cover the uncomfortable minute.

Purposefully, I clinked my spoon on the counter to add my own soundtrack to the air. One clink. Two clinks. A rustle of what was probably drawing paper from Charlotte.

My mother’s voice broke over the clinking and rustling.

“Are you in trouble?”

My muscles all froze, fused tight by the fraudulent worry she was trying to play off. I realized I’d stopped breathing too when a scratch itched up my throat, reminding me I wasn’t healthy enough to hold my breath today.

Forcing air back through, I ducked my head and threw her a pity glance.

“Just keep worrying about yourself, and I’ll worry about me.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her pointed shoulders cave in. There was this thing in the air that almost—almost—tasted like regret, but my taste buds were too clogged by disdain to tell for sure.

The front door jammed open again, Dominic wedging through. His phone was clutched tight in his hand, hard stare set on the floor.

The tension he brought back with him strung my posture a little straighter. It parted my dry lips as I sucked down even drier air. All the soup I’d consumed swirled uncomfortably around my stomach.

That wasn’t a happy look.

“Did something happen?” My voice cracked, and I cleared it of the weakness to pretend it wasn’t there.

Dusty pink lips broke apart, a stagnant beat holding his tongue in place. Then, “We got a notification that someone tried to pull your school records.”

“What?” My confusion screamed, eyes pinching. “That’s a weird thing to do, right?”

Dominic’s footsteps washed the sound of rich leather across our poor floors. He came as close to me as he was before, the air around him thick enough to be a choking hazard.

“They pulled surveillance from your high school, and who it was introduces a new threat.”

“Why? Who was it?”

He shook his head. “You wouldn’t know his name. He’s big on the streets and in organized crime units in the area. We’ve only ever been able to bust him once for drug possession, but he’s been named in theft cases, drug trafficking, a few unsolved homicides. We’ve just never had enough to charge him on those.”

A chill ran up my spine, and I tensed every muscle I had not to let it show.

“What does he want with me?”

Dominic passed his gaze over my face, heartache fanning up his own as if he’d already lost me. Quietly, he admitted, “I don’t know.”

“What’s his name?”

Dominic glanced over my head at my mother who just had to butt into this private moment. He squared back his shoulders as if he’d forgotten she was there too.

“Tommy Lynch.”

A pause.

“I know Tommy.”

I whipped around to her so fast, my head spun as if those three words ripped my entire world off its axis. Dominic stabled his hands on my shoulders, his strength keeping me from doubling over.

Breathing hard, I pinned my narrowed glare to my mom. “Excuse me?”

The ferocity in my tone rippled preliminary lightning across the small house.

“You know him personally?” Dominic asked behind me.

Slowly, she nodded.

“How exactly do you know him, Kathy?”

She pinched two fingers around her bottom lip, pulling at the dead skin. Her eyes went beady and nervous, skipping from me to Dominic. Eventually, she swallowed thickly and spoke.

“He pushes the new product and collects any overdue payments.”

On wobbling feet, I tried to stand and move towards her. Fades of neon red pulsed in and out around my vision as I narrowed my focus on her.

“Did you do something to him? Do you owe him money?”

“No, no.” She dared a step closer. “He was the one here last month that I-I paid.”

She was stupid. She had to be stupid to think telling me that would make me feel better.

Instead, ice trickled through my veins, stealing my volume and my blind confidence that none of this was serious.

“He’s been to our house?”

In my grave tone, she seemed to realize the huge fucking problem glaring us in the face. Her coffee eyes watered, turned muddled and red-rimmed. She shook her head, whispered noises falling from her pale lips.

“I don’t know what he could want with you.”

I ignored her, spinning back to Dominic with more life in my body than the last forty-eight hours. He was already waiting for me.

“What are the chances that this is also a coincidence?”

I could trick myself into believing the SUV was a coincidence. Nothing more than bad timing, but this? Breaking into my house last month was deliberate. The connection to my mom was undeniable. Pulling my school records was sketchy as fuck. Dominic was right before. I’d be a fool to believe in coincidences more than I believed in miracles or prayer.

His bright-with-worry eyes burned into mine.

“You can’t stay here.”

My gut pulled itself in and out, a fist of anxiety tugging it this way and that. I thought I might actually be sick.

“Where am I supposed to go?”

“Katty’s leaving?” Charlotte’s innocent voice broke through the madness, and my heart squeezed, finding her curious face in the living room.

“Uh, Maybe. You’re coming with me though, Bugs.” I landed an inarguable look on Dominic. “She comes with me wherever I go.”

He nodded, not even questioning it. “Can you stay with Layla?”

“She left with her parents today to go visit her grandparents for a few days.” Think. Think. Think. Fuck, it was hard to think when my head was already so full of this cold and now this. Everything was spinning.

“What about a hotel?”

His eyebrows flatlined on his forehead. “Where anyone can have access to you? No.”

“Okay, well I don’t know where else I can stay,” I argued, frazzled and sure that a fever was coming on fast. My palm slid up to my forehead, cradling it as sweat began to slide down my back. I dumped the blanket off my shoulders, suddenly too hot and scratchy.

Dominic watched me, the strict lines of his face angling harsher, and his jaw raked to the side. I panted, nothing making sense, and every nonsensical bit of me concentrated on Dominic as an idea cemented his hard-bitten stare to stone.

An idea that made my face fall. An idea that was asking for more trouble than my entire life was worth.

Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no.

The cut of his gaze bladed through me.

“Pack your bags.”