Chapter Twelve
She saw him standing there, yelling at Brian. However, Brian refused to move.
Just when it seemed as if Dom was going to kill Brian, his focus changed. She watched, almost ghost-like, as Jesse pulled up in his car and began talking to Dom. There was no sound, but she could read his lips.
"Dominic, I'm so sorry," he was saying.
She couldn't hear the bikes, but she saw Dom and Brian's attention turn away from Jesse and look at the street.
She looked and saw two guys on motorcycles roar up to the house, pull two guns out, and start firing.
Brian ducked out of range of the bullets and Dom rushed to Jesse's side. By the time he made it to Jesse's side, he was on the ground.
She couldn't tell whether or not he was alive. The next thing she saw was a brunette girl running to Jesse's side. She held him in her arms as Dom shot Brian a "revenge" look.
The next thing Dom and Brian did scared the shit out of her. They both got in their cars and headed after the two on bikes.
Madison bolted upright in bed, shaking. She had been sweating so much that her satin sheets were sticking to her long, barren legs. She climbed out of bed and headed to the bathroom to splash some water on her face. That dream had been way too real for her. She could only imagine what must've been going through Dom and Brian's minds.
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He watched as Letty's car headed off the road after the asshole truck driver had hit the front wheel on her passenger's side, sending her out of control. She ended up flipping in the car and he wanted to get her out of there...now.
"Leon!" he yelled into the two-way pager/cell phones they all carried.
"Yo!" came the reply.
"Pull back for Letty! Get her out of there!"
"Alright! I've got her! Just get Vince off that truck!"
Leon had stopped and pulled back. Dom sped up to try to help Vince.
Vince. Hell, the boy had almost died because of him. His arm had gotten caught in the cord that connected him and the truck, allowing him to get inside. Then there was the gunshot wound to his left side, almost hitting his leg. Deep wound.
Dom remembered going to see Vince in the hospital. He looked like shit. Mia had looked at him with sad eyes. She had never looked at him like that before. Dom had felt like shit. He felt so bad that he had left town six months later and gone to Boston to get away from it all.
Later, he had sent Mia $20,000 to go to school. She was attending NYU and was close enough to him where, if something happened to her, he was right there. He constantly sent Mia money so she would be able to continue her education. It was all he could do after fucking her life up. After fucking up everyone's lives. Especially Jesse's.
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It was ten o'clock when she woke up. She had been able to sleep better after the dream was gone. Or maybe nightmare was the better word for what she had seen.
She got up, headed to the bathroom, splashed some water on her face, and started the water for her shower.
She walked back into her room, took out the clothes she would wear, laid them on her bed, took her hair down and brushed it out. It fell over her shoulders, nicely complimenting her face. Her father always said her face was her best feature.
"Daddy," she said aloud to herself.
But she couldn't think about that. She had to worry about why she was here. And because of that, she had to find Dom.
She stripped and stepped into the shower. It was going to be a long day and she had a lot to do.
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He woke to the smell of eggs and waffles. He crawled out of bed, holding his head. He had really done it last night. His head was throbbing.
He walked into the bathroom, opened the medicine cabinet, grabbed the Tylenol, popped four of them in his mouth, and took a swallow of water to chase them down.
Heading downstairs, he saw Kyra at the stove, cooking. Christian was sitting at the table, reading the paper. Dom walked to the fridge, opened it, and grabbed the orange juice. Usually he added a little vodka to it to wake himself, but Kyra was watching him.
He poured himself a glass, returned the OJ to the fridge, and sat down next to Christian. Thinking better of it, he got up, went to one of the cabinets, opened it and grabbed three plates. While he was at it, he got the silverware out too. It didn't seem fair to him for Kyra to do all the work.
"Dom, I didn't tell you last night because you headed upstairs before I got the chance...but V called last night. Told me to tell you just that," Kyra commented.
"V called?" Dom repeated to himself.
He hadn't spoken to Vince in over six months. And then he had told him only to call if something was up. Must be something serious.
Dom stepped out of the kitchen into the living room, picking up the cell phone from the counter on the way. He had Vince's number memorized. As he dialed it, he remembered why he had never saved the numbers in the cell memory. In the case of the Feds coming after his ass, he refused to give up information that would lead them to Vince, Leon, or Letty.
It was something they had all promised one another when Dom left. It caught, they wouldn't give up one another, no matter what kind of torture they were put through.
The ringing of the phone broke into his thoughts.
"C'mon, V, be there," he mumbled to himself.
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The chirp of his cell phone brought him to consciousness. He looked at the digital alarm clock next to the bed he slept in. It read 8 o'clock.
"Shit," he growled, frustrated. "It's too fucking early."
He scrambled for the phone, which refused to shut up. He pressed the button and answered it.
"What," he growled.
"Need me to call you back?" It was Dom.
"Naw, man. It's just 8 o'clock here. Went to bed somewhere around three. Where were you last night, man?"
"Got shitfaced," Dom answered truthfully.
"That rough a night? No race to calm your nerves?" Vince was more awake now.
"That was what fucked me up. There's this chick, Madison. She reminds me a lot of Letty, but could never replace her. Kyra told me you had called. What's goin' on?"
Vince thought a moment. Did he really want to bother Dom with this shit? But, then again, if he didn't, Feds might be all over his ass in a matter of days.
"Somone's snoopin' around here. I wouldn't be bothering you with this, bro, but I knew you'd want to know," VInce explained.
"Don't worry about it, Vince. I'm glad you called. Last time I talked to you, you were in Colorado. You still there?" Dom asked.
"Naw, I'm in Arizona now. Moved 'cause Feds were checking it out. Someone must've tipped them off," Vince added.
"Yeah, maybe. And if so, I know who it is. Pretty boy O'Connor decided he was gonna track my ass down and ended up in Boston. Probably him snooping around there too."
"Shit," Vince was pissed. "Dominic, I told you the prick was a cop. Fuck."
Vince was seriously pissed. Brian O'Connor, the asshole who had taken Mia's affection from him, was in Boston.
"Yeah, well, if it wasn't for the prick, you'd be dead right now," Dom retorted.
Vince got out of bed and headed to the kitchen. He banged around the cabinets, looking for a pan. Once he found one, he put it down on the stove and headed for the fridge.