Dirty Dom(29)

She’s behind one of them. Twelve doors to look through.

My gun moves to each door, each corner. Empty.

“Start at the left. Bottom floor.” I call out with determination and confidence.

“We splittin’ Dom?” My Pops voice rings out, but I shake my head. I’m calling the shots. My problem and my girl. I’m grateful Pop’s is ready to back me up. I don’t know how many of them there are. I want our numbers high.

I lower my hand with the gun down as I reach the door. I look back at the crew as I test the handle. Locked. I bet they’re all fucking locked. They’re steel doors. Not fucking easy to break down, but we got this.

I put my gun up to the keyhole and fire. Once, twice, three times. I give it a hard kick and it jostles slightly. Another shot and another kick. Everyone has their guns ready to fire as the doors open. They swing open with a bang, crashing into the walls. Boxes are piled high, nearly to the ceiling in several rows. I take a step in with caution, moving my gun. But a faint muffled sound from a distance makes me stop.

I motion for everyone to be still. I swear I heard something. I swear I did. I almost move forward but then I hear it. Not this room. I hustle my ass past everyone and on to the next. My Becca. I hear it clearer as I reach the door in the back left corner.

Locked.

Bang! Bang! Bang! I kick it open with no mercy, making my leg scream in pain. Again. I fire and then so does Johnny. We fire together, kick together. The door swings open and my heart stops. My Becca is hanging upside down, tied up by her ankles over a sink to the right of the room. Her head has her just barely balanced on the edge of a sink that’s over flowing. Her hair is soaked.

They left her to drown. They tied her up and put her head in a sink and filled it. As I take in the sight of her, she slips and her head falls back into the water. I run to her as her body thrashes and she tries to swing herself to the edge again. I pull her head out as soon as I get to her. Guns fire around me. I don’t even know where mine is. I don’t look up. A bullet whizzes by my head. Men shoot. My family and others. Foot steps ring out on the steel stairs at the back of the room. More gun shots. But all I can really hear is my doll breathing. Gasping for air.

My fighter. My survivor. I rip the soaked blind fold off her eyes and turn off the faucet.

“It’s alright. I got you.”

“Dom!” She screams out and sputters up water.

“It’s me, doll I got you.” She shudders in my arms as I lift her weight up and try to cradle her body as best I can. My entire body is trembling. Loud, heavy footsteps race towards me. The screaming has stopped. The guns aren’t firing anymore.

“They got away Boss.” I barely hear Johnny yell. I don’t care.

“Jax?” Becca’s head falls back heavy against my arm. She shaking from the freezing water. Her skin is ice cold and pale. Her teeth chatter and eyes don’t focus on me.

“He’s safe, doll. You’re both safe I got you.”

At my words, her body goes limp. Her eyes close. Fuck no. I jostle her in my arms, but she’s still.

“Help her!” I hold her closer to me and shake her body to try to wake her as I scream. “Somebody help me get her down!”





Dom





“You sure Dom?” Jack’s voice echoes in my head and I scowl.

I want to smash his fucking teeth in. I get that his woman, his wife, was ready to rat on him. I fucking understand. But this isn’t his woman. Becca isn’t a rat. I got her into that shit. She’s not at fault in any way.

And what he’s implying is unforgivable.

“If anyone,” my voice is low and deadly as I turn to face him and stare straight into his eyes with my hard gaze. I want what I say to be heard and understood. “Anyone touches her or implies that any harm should come to her or her son, I will slit your fucking throat open.”

“Just calm down Dom.” I look at my father like he’s the one who said it. Because he’s keeping me from destroying Jack. My fists are clenched so tight my knuckles are white. How could he fucking imply that we should kill her?

“She’s just seen a lot is all.” He leans back against the bookshelves in the office and I turn my head slowly to stare him down. Vince, Pops, Jack and I are in the office. Pop’s office. It’s a dark room with thick curtains and dark chestnut bookshelves lining the wall. They’re filled to the brim. Pop’s loves to read, but he also likes to hide shit. I know some of the books are for his secrets. I just don’t know which books, or which secrets.

Vince paces by the door with his hands in his pockets, his head bowed, staring at the antique rug as he walks. He doesn’t look up to respond to Jack, “she hasn’t even come to. We don’t know what she’s seen.”