To state that I'm worried would be an understatement.
Given the brutality with which the previous fight progressed, this one is three-fold worse.
As I watch Dominic prepare to fight with the three losers, I'm astounded as the fight ends before it even starts. Just as the three start to advance on Dominic, he raises his already bloody fist—the same one he used on their leader—and gives them a sharp glare.
There must be something in his expression because their stance abruptly changes; instead of fighting, they simply exchange a few glances amongst themselves, shrug a little, and then walk back into the house.
One of them turns around just slightly but then whips back around, as if spooked.
The scene would've been almost comical if I wasn't panting so heavily.
Dominic appears different than before, but I suppose that given his skills as a boxer, square-offs like this must come easy to him.
His heavy back is facing me and his posture is so stiff that I resist the urge to go over and massage his shoulders. Instead, I shake myself and go over to Stacey's asshole ex and check his pulse. Unfortunately, he's alive, but fortunately that means that Dominic won't get into any trouble.
I raise myself from my crouched position to catch Dominic watching me with curiosity. Right… Normal people shouldn't seem so comfortable in a situation like this; my checking for his death seemed a bit too nonchalant. I can't really bother to say anything in my defense right now, so I simply pat my pants to get rid of the dirt.
Not that it helps—all I get is even more dirt on my hands. I scowl—how unflattering. Dominic doesn't seem to care as he grabs my wrist and starts marching away from the place, leaving the fallen asshole behind and my bike.
Wait.
I tug against his grip.
'My bike,' I plead in a small voice.
He looks over wryly.
'It's broken,' the cold finality of his words cuts me to the bone.
For some really stupid reason that I don't want to even articulate, my eyes start to water.
In my horror, I blink against the unnecessary tears and wipe my eyes with my sleeve.
It was my lucky bike; my dad got it for me after I won my first race. Also, it was purple and everything.
Dominic notices my stricken expression and stops for a second, loosening his grip to a gentle caress, while circling his thumb on my wrist. His other hand lands on my cheek and I jump at the electric contact, raising my eyes to look at him. His anger seems to have dissipated now and he awards me with those dimples again.
'It's okay. We can lose things that mean a lot to us sometimes.' He looks up at the sky briefly. 'But they can come back to us later.'
He winks at me and even though I don't get it—I nod at him and try to smile. His hand is still on my face and suddenly I am acutely aware of how close we're standing.
His eyes darken—he must've noticed it too—and he leans even closer. His face is almost a breath away from mine and his eyes are laser-focused on my lips. He doesn't make a move though, his brows are knitted in silent contemplation.
I really can't take this waiting anymore.
In a bold move, I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down. I surprise myself and finally do the thing I wanted to do ever since I first saw him at the fight club.
I kiss him.
His soft lips on mine are a revelation; the kiss is everything I hoped for and more. It's lingering and warm and brutal—especially when he gets over his shock and deepens it, cupping my nape. My neck is bent upwards so much that it aches deliciously and I let myself fall into the sensations.
I just know that my life will never be the same again.