Page 4 of Carver (Satan’s Angels MC #8)

Bronte

O ver the next week, I keep a close eye on Dominic’s place, driving by once a day. His rundown truck, more holes and rust than metal at this point, remains parked on the shadowy right side of the house, the tires just about flat on all sides, the earth working hard to reclaim it.

It’s been a full week now. I have no idea when he’s leaving for Hart. It could be tomorrow or weeks from now. Months, even.

This is everything I’ve hoped for, but at the same time, it feels as though the world is caving in around me.

I can’t focus on doubts. I’ve had more than enough of those over the past years.

I’ve come through it. My life has changed so fundamentally and Dominic, the person I love and trust most in the world, has no idea.

It wasn’t just his body that stone crushed.

I lost the man I loved that day. He became someone else.

Someone who pretended he was hard and uncaring.

What his dad and uncles couldn’t touch, that stone took away in a matter of hours.

I’ve had to learn grace and patience and perseverance, the likes of which I couldn’t even fathom. I’ve had to relearn how to love a man who has done almost everything he could to be unlovable.

I don’t know what it is today that tips me off, but something about Dominic’s place just seems…

wrong. Like the life has gone out of it.

I like to think that we’re so connected to each other, but I had no idea that he was hurt and bleeding out that day.

I almost lost him, and I was completely unaware.

Just like Dominic doesn’t know my greatest secret.

I pull down the driveway, dodging the potholes.

I’ve brought some more albums for him. It’s a tradition.

Every week I bring something other than groceries.

He doesn’t have a TV, but he does have a laptop.

Sometimes, I bring DVDs because he doesn’t do streaming services.

Other times, I drop off books. He has an ancient record player that he loves, so usually, it’s records.

I stop at the house first, trying the door. It’s old and is sometimes swollen, sitting askew in the frame. It needs a real shove to open or close.

I do both, leaning my shoulder into it and forcing it open.

I learned early that I just had to step all over Dominic’s boundaries.

He never agreed to see me or let me come here.

He told me often enough that he didn’t want me to.

If he was anyone else, I might have listened.

I might be wrong, but I think it’s bullshit that one person can’t save another.

I’m wrong.

I know it.

But screw that.

I might be pushy and willfully blind, but what was I supposed to do? Listen to him and get on with living without him while he slowly rotted away here, dying in painful increments?

It takes me a good while to realize that the door is locked .

I’ve been coming here since I was nineteen, and in all that time, I’ve never once found this door locked. I didn’t even know it could be.

I spin away, racing across the yard, my work boots kicking up dust and gravel.

I skid to a stop in front of Dom’s workshop, the ramshackle dome with the random broken windows and the few shingles still clinging to the once brown surface.

I try the door, but the handle won’t twist like it always has.

It’s locked too.

If I was given to cursing, I’d let out a few choice words right now.

I should have figured out that Dominic would have someone pick him up, so that every time I drove by, I’d see his truck and assume he was still here.

I’ve done a lot of research on facial reconstruction surgery and I know that the healing time is weeks or even months, not days.

He checked himself out of the hospital as soon as he was able to get upright after the accident, but this is different.

Any doctor with any amount of professionalism will keep him in the clinic or send him somewhere else to heal.

How many plastic surgeons would Hart have?

There’s likely only one clinic. They have no obligation to tell me anything or let me see Dom.

If he’s not there anymore, it would be my best bet.

He mentioned that guy he met from the motorcycle club.

The one who came to buy the bike parts. Dominic is notoriously solitary.

He always was, right from the time I sat down across from him in the school’s lunchroom and gave him the second lunch I’d packed for him after days and days of covertly watching him and noticing how he had nothing to eat.

For Dom to trust anyone enough to agree to let them come out here or to leave here to see their doctor—that’s incredible. It’s life changing .

If I can figure out who that man is, I’m sure that I’ll find my heart. Dominic has carried it in his hands for the past eleven years.

I rush back to the truck, picking up my phone and dialing, putting it on speaker then tucking it into the dashboard holder so I can talk hands free while I head back home.

My mom answers right away. Ginny just worked her butt off and finished college in about half the amount of time it should have taken her.

She’s back home, figuring out what she wants to do, so she’s watching Elowen.

Gabriel and my dad are out in the fields.

My family already knows everything. As much as I know, I’ve told them.

I’ve needed them too much over the past eighteen months not to be totally transparent.

I thought that I could change Dominic’s mind if I gave him a few days to cool off after our exchange in his kitchen. I didn’t tell my family about my intention to go to Hart and find a biker club and camp out in front until someone either forcefully removed me or told me what I wanted to know.

To give my mom credit—she’s a sweet, loving woman. The kindest person I know. She’s also incredibly wise. She’s always been quick to offer a hug, but slow to anger. She takes time to fully listen and time to think before offering advice.

I’m almost halfway home on the back grid roads before she speaks.

“Are you sure that this is the right course of action? If you are, you know that we’ll support you sweetheart, but that sounds dangerous.

I know that you’ve had to try and pick through what Dominic says and what he really wants for a long time now, but if he doesn’t want you to see him that way, then do you think that you’re maybe going to do damage that you can’t repair? ”

“If I thought he truly meant it, I’d stay away, but he doesn’t.” I know him better than I know myself. Even after he withdrew and tried to drive me away, that’s still true.

Even before the accident, Dom refused to let me in.

I had to find ways to be there, to get there.

His heart wasn’t laid bare on his sleeve.

It was hidden away, locked in a cage inside a dark room.

Dom had so much to offer, but his family life was rough.

He grew up without a mother, living with a strange tribe of uncles who were about as backwoods as people could be.

Most of them didn’t have jobs past growing weed in their fields and operating stills to brew their homemade moonshine.

They drank a lot of it. A lot . Dom used to miss school when he was too roughed up to go.

His dad would inevitably call in and make excuses about illness or say he was needed to work their land, but everyone knew that the land never got worked.

His dad was an artist of sorts. He made some money off restoring a few old cars and bikes.

It was his passion. But he had his demons and most nights, they won out.

Despite his upbringing, Dom had something in his soul that all the shadows and demons couldn’t get at. A gentleness that couldn’t be broken, and a force of will that matched his pride.

He’s so incredibly open, but only if you take the time to learn the code his life is written in. Over the years, he gave me that cipher, piece by piece.

So, yes. I know for certain he didn’t mean what he was saying.

My mom doesn’t bother to dissuade me. She knows that my mind is set.

Instead of wasting time on useless words, she’s already organizing.

“You’ll go in the morning? I know it’ll be your first time leaving Elowen, but we’ll video chat whenever you have time.

She’ll be fine. We’ll stick to her routine, so you literally have nothing to worry about. ”

“If I go in the morning, I bet no one will be here. It seems like a place that keeps late hours.”

“I don’t like the thought of you being there by yourself. It seems dangerous. Let your brother go with you.”

“No, mom! Dad needs Gabriel out in the fields, but I- I have to do this alone.”

“Not alone, sweetheart. You have all of us here behind you, and so does Dominic, even if he doesn’t want to see that.”

Gratitude swells in my chest, reaching my eyes in a few seconds. I blink hard and fast, so I don’t start crying while I’m driving.

“I’m going to come home and drop off these groceries, say goodbye to Elowen, and pack a bag. I’m almost there. Ten minutes.”

“I’ll make some sandwiches for you and pack you something, since Hart is a few hours away.”

I can’t blink back the tears this time. “Thanks, mom. See you soon.”