Domination (Explicitly Yours 2)

Lola shrugged. “We had the Cheez-Its.”

“Which is not all that bad of a dinner, but hardly fit for a queen.” He winked. “Since I doubt there’s French toast inside, how would you feel about gas station hotdogs?”

“Best with relish,” she said.

“Then relish you will get. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Lola watched him walk away, enjoying every second of his firm behind in blue jeans. She caught herself grinning—over hotdogs. It lit her up from the inside that eating hotdogs was such a normal thing to do, as if they had all the time in the world. She didn’t even particularly care for hotdogs, especially not ones that’d most likely been sitting on a rotisserie for the better part of a day. It was that she’d be having them with Beau.

But then she did start to think about the hotdogs themselves and how she actually was hungry, having eaten very little all night. Whenever she and Johnny took a trip, they’d stop for gas and sweets on their way out of town, even if they didn’t particularly need gas. Johnny would get M&Ms but her cravings came in waves. She never knew what she was in the mood for until she saw it all in front of her. That was why she’d be the one to go get the candy while Johnny filled up the tank.

Now she couldn’t stop thinking about chocolate, and Beau would have no idea what to get her. She didn’t even know herself. She unbuckled her seatbelt and climbed out of the car. He’d paid for so much so far—dessert would be her treat. Beau probably had an old favorite, like Johnny. Men were like that. They found something that worked and stuck with it.

She pulled open the gas station door, walked in and stopped cold. Beau stood frozen at the counter, and a large, bearded man held a gun to his head. Beau’s hands were clenched at his sides. The gas station attendant transferred cash from the register into a garbage bag.

“I told you, there isn’t a single thing in my car,” Beau was saying, his head slightly tilted as the barrel pressed into his temple. His eyes flickered to Lola and back. Slowly, he signaled with his hand for her to leave. “Everything’s on me. I have plenty of cash. I just need to reach in my pocket and get it.”

“Which pocket?”

“Back right,” Beau said.

Every beat of Lola’s heart was acute. Rabid. She ached. He wouldn’t hold her as she lay awake tonight. There wouldn’t be a heartbreaking decision to make in the morning. They had fought each other, themselves, those around them—why? For it to end this way? She would’ve run to him if she could move. Her mouth was open, but she hadn’t even been breathing.

“There’s nothing here,” the man said.

“Must be the left pocket.” Beau widened his eyes at her, nodded once and mouthed, Go. She barely registered that he was trying to distract the man from turning around.

“You’re fucking with me.” He reared back to hit Beau with the gun.

“I have it,” Lola cried out. She couldn’t even remember what she was supposed to have, her mind spun so fast. He wanted something. She would give it to him. Anything to change the picture in front of her—Beau, her strong, solid Beau, with a gun to his head.

The man whirled to her. “On the ground,” he said.

He waved the gun back and forth, and when it stopped on her, her scalp went cold. His matted gray beard matched his leaden eyes, matched the pistol aimed at her face. His oversized army-green jacket had holes.

“Down,” Beau ordered through his teeth. He gestured again, this time for her to lie on the floor. His dark eyes bore into her, willing her to submit.

She had to be brave. If she lay down, Beau would remain the target. She couldn’t have that. Her breath came short as she looked between them.

“Listen, bitch.” He put the barrel to Beau’s head again. “This will be you if you don’t get the fuck down.”

Beau thrust his hand into his front pocket. “She’s lying. My wallet’s in—”

The man cocked the gun and shoved it harder into Beau’s skull. “I told you not to move, motherfucker. Put it in the bag and do it slow.”

Beau slid it out and dropped it in with the rest of the money.

“Now you,” he said, nodding at Lola. “Throw your purse over here.”

As long as the gun was on Beau, she saw nothing else. All it would take was a slip of the finger, a burst of anger. “Not until you put the gun down.”

“Who the fuck you think’s in charge?” the man asked.

She held up her purse, waving it as if he were a bear and she had his dinner. The man was off—he could snap at any moment, but if he did, she’d make sure that gun was pointed anywhere but at Beau. Even if it was aimed at her instead. “If you want it, come take it from me.”

“Throw the fucking purse,” Beau said sharply.

Purse. Wallet. Money. Her brain began to thaw. “I have cash.” Her legs wobbled. She took a step back and raised her chin. “I just came from the ATM.”

He looked from Beau to Lola and back before walking toward her.

Beau lunged, but the man was fast. He spun around and trained the weapon on Beau again. He backed his way to Lola, feeling for her with the same hand he clutched the garbage bag in. She couldn’t tell how lucid he was. She didn’t want to test him, so she stayed where she was. He grabbed her shirt and pulled her in front of him, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and jamming the cold muzzle under her chin, forcing her head up. He slid his hand down her stomach. “Give it to me.”

The barrel pressed into her throat when she swallowed. She tried not to cough and instead inhaled a wilting blend of urine, body odor and hard alcohol. Without moving more than she had to or looking down, she surrendered the purse.

“She and I are going to walk out,” he said to Beau. “If you want to keep her alive, don’t make any moves until I’m gone. Got it?”

“I lied,” Beau said hastily. He was below her line of vision, on her peripheral, but there was clear desperation in his voice. “About the car. And what’s in it. I can get you anything you want. I have more money than you can dream of.”

The man released the gun just enough for Lola’s head to drop. Beau flexed his hands in and out of balls, imploring her with his eyes. She couldn’t read him, and that made her stomach churn. She had no idea what he might do.

“How much we talking here?” the man smacked in her ear.

“Millions. All yours if you just let her go. I’ll go out to the car with you instead.”

Lola held her breath, sucking in her nostrils to prevent smelling anything.

He laughed. “Now I know you’re fucking with me.” He pulled Lola backward with him.