Page 39 of Trick Shot (Miami Blazers #1)

Chapter twenty

~MELODY~

I can’t breathe.

Dominic’s silhouette fills the doorway like a final verdict. His fists are clenched so tightly I can see the veins running up his forearms. His chest heaves, his eyes still locked on Jace, wild and unblinking.

Jace steps in front of me to shield me while I scramble off the bench. I tug my dress down with shaking fingers, my face burning. I can still feel the phantom press of Jace’s hand between my thighs and his breath on my neck.

Dom’s voice slices through the tension like a blade.

“We’re leaving.” His voice cuts. “Let’s go.”

He doesn’t look at me. His eyes never leave Jace, but the command is mine to obey.

“Dom, listen.” Jace steps forward, calm and steady.

“This isn’t a conversation.” Dom’s tone is sharp and final. He finally looks at me, and I hate the look in his eyes. “I said let’s go.”

My spine straightens on instinct. My breathing is shallow, and my legs are still trembling from the edge Jace had me teetering on just moments ago.

But this is a different kind of edge.

“No.” My voice is steady, unlike my pulse. “I’m not a child, Dominic.”

Dom’s nostrils flare.

“You clearly are if you’re letting him bury his fucking hand between your legs.”

My breath catches and my cheeks flame. My stomach twists in knots of guilt and fury and shame.

Jace immediately moves, taking a step forward.

“Watch your fucking mouth, Dominic.” His voice is nothing like the one that whispered against my skin earlier. It’s darker and sharper.

My brother turns to him slowly, eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. His jaw ticks once.

“You really think I’m that fucking dumb?” His voice is calm, but it’s a violent kind of calm—the kind that only comes when someone is holding themselves back from total destruction.

“Every single time she disappeared last week, you did too.”

Jace and I glance at each other.

“I told myself I was crazy. That I needed to stop thinking like that. That my fucking brother wouldn’t do this to me… would he?”

He looks at me then. And it hurts. Because this isn’t the version of Dominic I know. This is the one that looks like our parents. The one with stone in his eyes and judgment in his mouth.

“And tonight,” he goes on, eyes cutting back to Jace, “I watch her follow you. I give myself shit for thinking it’s suspicious. And then I come down to this.”

He gestures to us and the workbench next to us. The shame hits me all over again, like I’ve been stripped and put on trial.

“Then you shouldn’t have come,” I snap, lifting my chin.

Dom looks at me, eyes narrowed.

“You shouldn’t have followed us,” I continue. “If you were already suspicious, then you knew exactly what you’d find. You should have waited until we were back home and asked me.”

Dom points a finger at me.

“You don’t get to decide how I react to this. Not when you were doing this behind my back.”

“And you don’t get to decide what she does,” Jace steps forward.

“Take a step closer and I’ll break your fuck’n jaw,” Dom warns him, then turns back to me.

I’m done letting his words slice me open while he pretends it’s out of love.

“Dom, this isn’t the time or place—”

“The time and place?” he cuts in, voice sharp. “You let him touch you in his fucking workshop while the whole team’s here. But sure, let’s talk about timing.”

My face flushes, but before I can speak again, Jace does.

“If hitting me’s gonna make you feel better…” He spreads his arms out wide, standing open. “Then do it. Hit me. Then stop for one fucking second and listen.”

Dom’s breathing is erratic, shoulders rising and falling, he’s standing on the edge of eruption.

“You really think there’s anything either one of you can say right now that’s going to make this better?”

His eyes cut back to me. They don’t look like the brother I grew up with.

“You let NHL’s biggest manwhore put his hands on you,” he spits. “And now you want to stand here and reason with me?”

“Don’t act like you’re a saint, Dominic,” Jace snarls. “We’ve all done shit we’re not proud of.”

I look over at Jace, whose eyes are on Dom—filled with guilt, rage, and something that looks a lot like heartbreak.

“That’s your best friend you’re talking about,” I snap at Dom, and he scoffs.

Then, in one violent motion, he steps forward and grabs my arm, yanking me toward him.

“We’re leaving. Now.”

“Dom, stop!” I gasp, stumbling, his grip bruising.

“Don’t touch her.” Jace’s voice cuts through the room.

Dom turns slowly, and Jace is already moving, that wild, dangerous energy rolling off him like smoke.

He stops right in front of Dom, face to face.

“Let. Her. Go. Right now.”

For a second, Dom doesn’t. His jaw clenches, fingers tightening around my arm, trying to make a point. But then he looks at me and slowly, his grip loosens.

He lets go with a disgusted look on his face, stepping back like I burned him.

“Say your fucking goodbyes, Melody.” His voice is ice. “You’re going back home to Pennsylvania.”

Then he turns and storms out, the door slamming so hard it rattles the walls behind him.

For a second, the room holds its breath. The silence that follows feels louder than Dom’s fury.

My pulse thrums in my ears, my entire body trembles, and my knees threaten to give.

Jace is on me in an instant, hand cupping my face, his other arm wrapping around my waist, the only thing keeping me from falling apart.

“You’re not leaving.” It’s not a plea—it’s a command. “You’re not going back.”

His voice is raw and shaken.

“I’m not.” My voice breaks, but I double down. “He can’t make me.”

My hand finds his chest, fingers pressing against the rapid beat of his heart, trying to convince it to calm down.

But I can’t. Neither of us can.

“But I need to go after him right now.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“No.” The word flies out—too fast, too sharp—but I soften it as I say it again. “No, Jace.”

He steps back half a step, confused.

“I’m not letting you deal with him alone.” He’s already moving toward the door.

I reach for him, grabbing his wrist with both hands.

“He’s not ready to see both of us right now. He’ll shut down even harder if you’re there.”

“Do you expect me to stay here while he’s in this state?”

I swallow hard, eyes stinging. Right now, Dom’s not my brother. He’s our parents—cold, angry, and controlling.

“He’s not himself. If I can get to him first, without you, I think I can fix this. But you have to let me do it on my own, Jace. He doesn’t need to see us together right now.”

His jaw flexes, his body vibrating with restraint. I see the war in his eyes—his obsessive need to follow me, but also his trust in me that I can fight for him too.

I cup his face, standing on my toes, and he leans down to meet me halfway until our foreheads touch, breath to breath.

“Please…” I whisper. “Let me fix this. Let me calm him down. Then we’ll deal with it together. Let me do this, Jace.”

He exhales, long and sharp. His hands slide down my arms, gripping my wrists.

“You come back to me.” It’s not a request.

I nod, kissing his lips, one hand pressing over his heart.

“I’ll come back to you.”

Then I tear myself away and walk out the door.

The car door slams shut, and Dominic is already walking. His strides are sharp, each footstep clipped and furious as he marches up the driveway toward the house. The weight of silence follows him like a shadow—loud and unbearable.

I have to jog to catch up.

“Dom!”

He doesn’t slow down, doesn’t turn.

“Dominic, please!”

Still nothing. Just that silence that feels like it’s crushing my chest.

“You won’t even talk to me?”

His hand balls into a fist at his side, but he stops walking.

“I know you’re angry.” My voice breaks. “I know you’re disgusted. But you can’t shut me out like this.”

We’re halfway to the front door when he finally speaks.

“After what I saw?” He doesn’t turn around when he says it. “I think it’s best if I do exactly that.”

Then he opens the front door and steps inside. I watch him walk farther in, and for the first time in a long time, I don’t know how to reach my brother.

Yet, I follow fast, the echo of my boots thudding against the marble floor.

“You have to talk to me!” I snap, my voice ringing off the vaulted ceiling like a warning shot.

He stops and turns, his eyes cold.

“What do you want me to say, Melody?” There’s no fire in it—just frost and distance.

“I want you to stop acting like Jace and I murdered someone,” I shoot back, stepping into his space. “I can’t believe you’re this angry because I found someone I’m in love with.”

“You’ve known him for two fucking weeks!” he explodes, his voice shaking the walls.

“That’s where you’re completely wrong,” I bite. “I’ve been talking to Jace for almost a year.”

The silence is heavy and suffocating. Dom blinks once, and his jaw ticks.

“What?” The word barely leaves him.

“That Halloween party last year—the one you dragged me to when I came to visit Miami?”

He stares at me like I slapped him.

“That’s when I met Jace. He was wearing a mask,” I continue, my voice gaining strength. “We started texting after that night. We’ve been talking every single day, Dom. Every night. I knew him long before I knew who he was to you.”

He reels back like he’s been shot in the chest.

“You’re fucking kidding me.” He laughs bitterly, raking his hands through his hair.

His laugh doesn’t sound right. It bursts out of him like a crack in the foundation—sharp and echoing through the entryway. Not amused—deranged.

He spins around, pacing like he’s trying to outrun the words I just said.

Then he turns, eyes wide and blazing, and points at me.

“You?!”

“Dom…”

He cuts me off with another bitter laugh.

“The girl from the party.” His voice drops. “The girl from the fucking party.”

He shakes his head like he’s trying to reboot his entire brain.

“So you’re Bunny, huh?” His eyes pierce through me, and my heart drops.

“How did you…”

“Because he wouldn’t fucking shut up about it.” The words are a hiss now.

He looks like he’s unraveling right in front of me.