Flock (The Ravenhood)

He gives me that beaming smile as if he’s shaking off some irritation. “I wanted to take you.”

“So, you take me,” I say, hoarsely clearing the rest of the sleep from my voice. “You don’t work here anymore, right?”

“It’s just tonight,” he says, his jaw tightening.

“Okay.” I stand. “But I can drive myself.”

“Just let him take you,” he says insistently. “You were out for a while. That’s some potent shit you inhaled. Just to be safe.”

I feel a slight unease. My brain still a bit cloudy from being inside the garage bong for so many hours, so I nod. I haven’t mastered the mountainous roads, especially after nightfall, and I decide not to risk it.

Once outside, the fresh air hits as I follow a silent Dominic to a sleek black old body Camaro.

“Nice,” I say as he opens the passenger door and I glance over and meet Sean’s watchful gaze from where he’s standing in the doorway of the shop. I smile and wave goodnight and see his gaze drift from Dominic to me before he feigns a smile back at me. I’ve seen enough genuine smiles from Sean at this point to know the difference. He’s pissed. I glance over to Dominic and see his unforgiving stare on Sean before he ushers me inside his car and shuts the door. I’ve barely registered the exchange when Dominic slides into the driver’s seat and starts the Camaro. Loud music blares, making me jump in my seat as the engine’s purr tickles my senses. Dominic doesn’t bother to turn it down, but does the opposite, cranking it up to ears bleeding volume, ruining any chance of conversation.

Prick.

Screeching guitar fills the cabin of the car as I shift my gaze over to him while he backs out of the driveway, his hand on the gear shift. He doesn’t bother checking the rearview to look for oncoming traffic and whips us out like he owns the road.

Wide-eyed, I look back to where Sean was standing and see he’s gone.

And then Dominic floors it, tearing out like a bat out of hell, his speed reckless. The transition smooth as he switches gears and floors it down every straightaway. It’s the scariest fifteen seconds of my life from the time I decide to let the crippling fear go and embrace the ride. By then I’m caught up, wrapped in the exhilaration, my heart pounding as I throw my head back and a loud laugh escapes me.

I look over to where Dominic sits, controlling the car like an expert, knowing the give and take of every inch of the pavement, hugging the yellow lines like he’s memorized every one of them. He doesn’t so much as look my way, but I swear I see his lips twitch at the sound of my laughter. It curbs as I study him in the dim light of the cabin, the music pulsing through me, along with the feel of the motor dancing beneath me. Dominic is in his element, in complete control as he drives on through the pitch-black night. I can faintly see my own headlights behind us before they flutter out.

“Bundy” by Animal Alpha blares out of his speakers, a contrast to the eerily quiet night amongst the evergreens surrounding us. I place my hands on the dash, the feel of the stealthy car eating the road a lot like flying. Soaking in every moment, I swear I feel a shift in the air as I rock myself a little to the devilish beat. If driving this way is to intimidate or scare me, much to my surprise, he’s failing miserably.

And in the length of a song, I let go, uncaring of his perception and let myself enjoy those few minutes of not being in control, of leaving my fate in someone else’s hands. Since I’ve been in Triple Falls and felt the space between my mother and me, I’ve realized my role in her life has been more of a reversal than I wanted to admit. I admit it to myself now, that I’ve been more like the parent than she has in the last nineteen years. I’ve been stricter on myself than she ever has been on me. I’ve willingly never given her a reason to worry. I’ve pulled the wine out of her hand, and ground out her ash-ridden cigarettes, and covered her with a blanket more times than I can count. I saved my virginity for someone I thought loved and respected me while secretly shaming her for her blatant promiscuity during my younger years. From the stories she’s told me, she was the original party girl, and daily, I bore witness to the aftermath of her life choices. I’ve lived the opposite of her decisions, which I know gave her relief. But in this moment, just for a few minutes, I let all that go. With the wind in my hair, I close my eyes and just…fly.

And it feels fucking liberating. So much so that I find myself disappointed when the car begins to slow and Dominic turns onto the isolated road that leads to my father’s estate.

Coming down from an unimaginable high that’s far exceeded many of the adolescent thrills preceding it, we sit waiting until my headlights light up the otherwise abandoned road. When Tyler pulls up behind us, I punch the gate code in to allow both cars to pass. The arch-shaped iron gates open, and Dominic surveys the house in the distance as he slowly creeps down the driveway before circling the entrance. Stopped just short of the staircase leading to the porch, he turns to me, expectant.

“I don’t know whether to slap you or thank you.”

“You loved it.” His tone is limp, but his eyes contradict it. He’s looking at me with a mix of curiosity and dare I think, interest?

I decide not to thank him or encourage his rude behavior and exit the car, shutting the heavy door and meet Tyler, who now stands at the driver’s side of my Camry with my keys hooked on his finger. I grab them and give him a soft, “Thank you.” I’m suddenly drained from the white-knuckled car ride home and the long day behind me.

He gives me a wink. “No problem, see you around.”

“Hope so.” I glance back to Dominic who’s scanning my house, his jaw set, his expression unreadable. I’ve never seen a man wear such an impenetrable mask. Christy’s words ring in my ears.

Those were boys, find a man.

These guys aren’t anything like the guys I knew back home. Sure, they seem just as arrogant, some of their routines the same, but there’s something oddly different about them. I’m wondering now as I peer at Dominic if that’s such a good thing. Sean’s smile comes to mind, the brilliance of it, the light in his eyes and the way he takes care of me when I’m around him, whether I need it or not, and it puts me at ease. Dominic senses my intense stare and barely spares me a glance before jerking his head to Tyler to join him.

“Night, Cecelia,” Tyler walks the short distance to Dominic’s Camaro, taking my seat in the car. It’s when he pulls the shiny black door closed that I’m snapped from the spell. The car is already speeding off into the distance by the time I make it up the porch and through the front door, thankful my father isn’t there to greet me.

That night, I slip into bed and leave my balcony doors open. I feel the crisp night breeze flow through the room and it blankets my skin while bringing me back to the inside of Dominic’s Camaro.

I fall asleep and dream vividly of hazel eyes, upturned lips, of blurring trees, and endle

ss roads.

THE NEXT MORNING, WEARING A giddy smile from the recollection of my dreams in the shower, I tread down the staircase with a rehearsed excuse on my lips, nerves firing off as I cross the foyer and walk into the dining room. I’m relieved when I find it empty. But that relief is short-lived when I hear the ping of my phone and see an email from my father, and the subject line, visitors. Roman Horner doesn’t text—that’s much too personal. He corresponds with his child through email.

You’re a grown woman, and I realize the conditions of your stay with me might be a bit stifling on your extracurricular activities due to your late schedule. That said, this is the second night I’ve lost sleep due to your late-night appearance and the noise of your arrival outside of my front door. From here on out, do your best to see yourself home at night and be respectful of my house, Cecelia. Visitors are to be kept at a bare minimum. Also, I will be staying in Charlotte for the next few days due to my schedule. The housekeeper will be in today. Please let her know if there is anything you may need.