He sits on the edge of the bed with his body turned toward me as I tap my nail against the glass.
“I can’t do this Dom. I can’t run and hide. I can’t put Jax through this shit.” It physically hurts to say the words, but it’s true. I need to end this.
“Tough, you need me now.” His hard gaze dares me to disagree.
“That’s not fair.” My voice breaks.
“Life’s not fair babe.”
“You got me into this shit and now I can’t leave.” I shake my head and cover my face with my hands.
“That shit is over and done with.” He grips my wrists and wraps my arms around his neck and pulls me into his lap. “That’s not why you need me. You fucking love me, doll. You need me to love you too.”
I can’t deny it; I love him. “But I can’t.”
“I’m not letting you go.” Hearing his conviction eases my pain. He’s making this decision. “No one’s gonna fuck you the way I do.”
A sad smile plays at my lips and I huff a laugh as I wipe my eyes with the sleeve of my shirt.
“Can we leave? Please.?” If he could take us away, I’d leave right now.
“You can’t stop being family doll.” Fresh tears prick and my face heats. I should no better.
“I can’t have Jax around this.” I can’t. I won’t. That’s not going to change.
“He won’t be.” Dom’s answer is quick. “I’m selling the business and getting a real job. I’m backing away from all of this shit.” His fingers grip my chin and he forces me to look him in the eyes, “You want me to stop working for my dad, I’ll do it. If anyone can leave the familia, I can.”
I shake my head. I know that’s not how it works. “I have to go.” I need to leave him. Before he leaves his family, before he risks his life.
“I’m not letting you leave. I told you; you’re mine.” I love how determined his words are. But it’s not enough.
“I can’t.” My heart clenches and hollows with pain.
“You can. And you will. We’ll do this together. And after today, I can’t let you go. I refuse to let you leave me, doll.”
My head shakes uncontrollably. “I just can’t have Jax raised like this.” My chest heaves for air as a heat washes through my body. “I don’t want this for him.” Hot tears leak down my face.
“I know, doll.” His thumb brushes a stray tear away as he looks at me with a sad smile.
“You know when I knew my family was a mob family?” He asks. “I found out when I was ten.” A humorless laugh leaves him. “The journalists from the papers waited for me outside of school.” A sad smile pulls at his lips. “I thought my Pops ran a restaurant, that he was an entrepreneur.”
His smile vanishes and his hand leaves me. “The reporters told me he was a crook, a murderer.” He says the words with distaste, practically spitting them. His eyes fall and he swallows thickly. “I had no idea until then.” He shifts and looks uncomfortably at the door, “Ma cried her eyes out. She couldn’t even talk to me. Pops had to take me aside and tell me he had a business and when I wanted to know about it, he’d tell me.” He forces a tight smile. “I never asked.” He shakes his head. “Kids were always a little afraid of me at school, other than that I think most things were normal. As far as I know.”
He takes a deep breath, “the only time I thought my father was disappointed in me was when I told him I wanted to go to college for statistics. He never said it, but there was a look on his face. I asked him about it later, he said he was so ashamed of himself in that moment. That he’d planned something else for me, and that it never occurred to him that I deserved better.”
“Got into Stanford, got my degree and a respectable job, and I fucking hated it. I can’t lie, doll, I don’t fucking like working.” His tone makes a small laugh leave my lips. “So I came home and Pops told me no. He told me I was more than a gangster. He told me I’d be better than him.” A wicked grin grows across his face. “He was pissed when I told him I was a bookie. Didn’t tell him for nearly a year. But I was having some problems and needed his help. That’s when he let me in and gave me the books.”
“What I’m saying is,” he takes my hand in his and kisses the back of it. “I’m not the boss, doll. Our kids aren’t gonna know until we tell them. “And they don’t have to be a part of this.” His eyes plead with me to believe him. “They don’t. I promise you.” he kisses the back of my hand again and his sad eyes return to mine, “but if you want to leave, we’ll go. My Ma and the rest of the family will understand. You’ve already been through too much.” He shakes his head with his eyes on the floor. We don’t let our -” I crush my lips against his, they’re hard at first, caught by surprise, but he molds them to mine and then parts my lips with his tongue. I push my chest against his, needing to feel him. Needing his love more than my next breath.