Page 132 of By A Thread

“I’m my father’s son,” I slurred.

My other shoe disappeared.

“You’re also your mother’s son. And last time I checked, you happen to be your own man. You make your own decisions.”

“Yeah, well, I decide I don’t want to be anything like him. I can’t sleep with you, Ally. No matter how much I want to. No matter how much I like you. No matter how many times I pictured you spread out right here under me. I want you so much, but I can’t have you.”

“Why not, Dom?” Her voice was so soft, and she was playing with my hair again. I decided that was my new favorite physical sensation. Ally’s fingers in my hair.

“’Cause he would have taken you. Take take take. Whatever he wanted. I don’t want to be him.”

“Oh, honey. You’re not.” I liked her voice. Liked how she called me honey.

“You say that. But I’m ’zactly like him. I jerk off in the bathroom thinking about you. Well, not anymore.”

She was quiet for a beat, and then her fingers were on my necktie. “Why not?”

“Doesn’t seem right. You’re right outside the door. It’s disrep—disruh—dis-re-spect-ful,” I enunciated clearly. I was so fucking tired.

“You’re not responsible for your father’s actions. What he did isn’t your fault.”

I covered my face with my hands. “Yes, it is. It’s my fault he was there to do the things he did.”

“Why?”

“Never mind. Forget I said anything,” I told her. I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. It made me sad and sick, and I just wanted to feel good. Even if I didn’t deserve it. “’Sides. I don’t deserve you anyway.”

My tie loosened, then vanished, and those glorious fingers were working the buttons on my shirt free. I really liked that.

“Dom?”

“Yeah?”

“Open your eyes for a second.”

I did as my Angel Ally asked.

“You’re nothing like your father. You never have been, and you never will be. You’re a good man. You take care of people who need it. You protect them and build them up. You’re going to make some woman very lucky someday.”

“Wish it was you.”

She cupped my face in her cool hand, and I rubbed my jaw shamelessly against it. That easy, physical affection Ally gave was something I had no idea I needed. And I was going to have to go back to living without it.

“Get some sleep, honey,” she said softly.

My eyes wouldn’t open anymore. I felt the weight of the blanket she pulled over me, the bounce of Brownie jumping onto the bed.

“Thanks for taking care of me, Ally.”

“Back at you, Dom.”

45

Ally

My feet and my brain were numb.

Prancing around on pinchy stilettos had probably permanently damaged the nerves in my toes. And as for my brain, my boss had rendered it useless.