“There was no other body on the report,” Dawg said.
“I got rid of it. Paid to have it burned. There’s no trace. I couldn’t … she tried to save her mother when I should have been the one there. I failed, and she had to pay the price. No one took any tests of her clothing. She’d just held her dead mother. I told them the attacker clearly escaped before she got there, or she scared him off. No one knows. Just me, Lori, and God.”
Paul dropped the crowbar and looked toward Dawg.
“Don’t … please don’t hurt her. She had a shitty father and had to live with me in her life. Men coming at all hours, turning the house over for money. Please, don’t hurt her. I beg you.”
Dawg didn’t say a word. Leaving the basement, he headed out to the car where Paul joined him.
“Are you okay?” Paul asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You were right.”
“Of course I was right. I’m always right.”
****
Work and life went by as if nothing had ever changed, which surprised Lori because to her, everything had changed. She lived with a man who now owned her, and yet, he only held her at night. They shared meals together, and they talked often. He’d even text her, and she loved their conversations. In those moments she could forget who she was and who he was. They were two different people enjoying each other’s company.
Entering his home, she smelled the delicious aroma of meat and garlic. Her mouth watered, and as she entered the kitchen, she found Paul and Dawg talking, which they stopped the moment they saw her.
“Good day at work?” he asked.
“Yes, it was good. You?”
“Can’t complain.”
She bit her lip, but didn’t say anything more.
“Well, that got awkward really fast,” Paul said.
“I didn’t know you could cook,” she said, trying to make the effort for it to be less uncomfortable.
Dawg smiled, and she saw that smug smirk that she wanted to wipe off his face, but equally see it there as well. He had this way about him that always made her want to do two different things at once, and there was no way that wasn’t confusing. Even to her.
“Take a seat, sweetheart. Dawg has always been able to cook. His mother taught him everything she knew.”
“I didn’t know you had parents.”
“I had parents,” Dawg said.
She looked toward him expecting an explanation, but all she got was a stony scowl.
“They were killed. Someone ran them off the road years ago. My mom died of a drug overdose not long after. Dawg took over the business, and seeing as I’m his half-brother since we shared a father, he keeps me around,” Paul said.
She didn’t look away as Dawg kept staring at her. She thought about her mother, and she couldn’t look at him anymore. Even now, nearly five years after her death, she still got chills over that night.
Dawg moved away, and she watched him open the fridge. Paul kept on talking, and she noticed out of the two brothers Paul was the one that couldn’t stand long silences.
A glass of wine was placed in front of her. “It’ll help you to relax.”
She thanked Dawg, and watched him work again.
Every now and again Paul would ask her opinion, and she’d give it, but her focus was on one man and one man alone.
He’d removed his jacket and the shirt sleeves were rolled up, showcasing his ink. The only time she saw him partially naked was a few precious seconds before the light went out.
A band of black ink circled each wrist, like a chain, and the ink ran up his arms in intricate designs. There had been many times she wanted to trace those lines, but she held herself back.
When she’d signed that contract a few weeks ago, she had thought her life would change completely. Other than where she lived, nothing actually changed. She still went to work, came home, ate. The only difference was the man she spent time with.
Running fingers through her hair, she sipped at her wine, enjoying the fruity taste, which showed its quality.
It didn’t take long for their meal to be served, a homemade lasagna with a side salad. She loved this meal so much. Her mother would make it as a special treat.
She inhaled the aromas, and felt like she’d gone home.
Paul and Dawg kept on talking, and she relished every single bite of her meal. When it was over, Paul said his goodbyes, and they both watched him leave.
She was acutely aware of how close Dawg stood.
“Would you like to join me for a drink?” he asked, suddenly moving to his study.
It was on the tip of her tongue to refuse, but she found herself agreeing.
Taking a seat in his study, she waited as he poured them both a drink, and admired the floor to ceiling length of book shelves.