Domino: MC Romance (Dark Pharaohs Motorcycle Club Romance Book 2)

Chapter 5

We’re standing in the kitchen and Ryan regards me with his usual contempt but says nothing. It hasn’t been a very good morning and he’s angrier than usual. He pops one of his pills and washes it down with his coffee. I try to control the expression on my face, but I’m obviously not very successful at it.

“What? Do you have something to say, Ash?”

“I was just wondering whether or not it was wise to be taking those pills when you’re going to be handling firearms.”

He scoffs. “Why don’t you just worry about yourself? I’m fine.”

“If you’re fine, then why are you popping pills like candy?”

He closes the distance between us, forcing me back up against the refrigerator, his face hovering so close to mine, the tips of our noses are practically touching. His breath is sour, and I turn my head away, but he grabs hold of my face, his fingers pressing hard into my cheeks, and turns me back to face him.

“I’m gettin’ real tired of your shit, Ashley. I’m gettin’ real tired of you questionin’ everything I do. And that shit’s gonna stop. Right here and right now. Do you get me?”

Though I’m terrified and my heart is thundering inside of me, I do my best to stiffen my spine. Maggie and I have been planning my escape for the last couple of weeks and the day has finally arrived. It’s critical that I don’t act any different than I normally do, and if I suddenly start simpering and cowering to him, he might know something’s up. Predators know when the behavior of their prey changes. They can practically smell it. I lift my chin and stare back at him.

“You’re miserable, Ryan. We either need to go to couples counseling, or we should just go our own ways. Why are you resisting this idea? Don’t you want to be happy and live a life without things dragging you down?”

His eyes narrow and his jaw clenches as he stares into mine. “The only thing dragging me down is your fuckin’ attitude. And that’s gonna change, Ashley. I’m tired of your bullshit. Tired of—”

“Then why not just go our own ways?” I interrupt. “Instead of making each other miserable, and making our son miserable along with us, let’s think about him for a change and just part ways amicably.”

He remains silent for several long moments, my pulse racing even harder than before. His eyes are rimmed red and bloodshot, it looks like he didn’t sleep last night. Which makes sense, given the way he smells as well. That’s not unusual. Most nights, he sleeps in the recliner in the living room watching TV, anyway.

I honestly can’t remember the last time we shared a bed. To sleep, anyway. He’s made me have sex with him, though that’s always a dicey proposition since between the booze and the pills, he has a hard time even getting a hard on, let alone keeping it up. On those nights he can though, my skin crawls, I feel physically ill, and I have to just grit my teeth, close my eyes, and pretend I’m somewhere else.

“You’re mine. Cole’s mine. You both belong to me,” he hisses. “And I ain’t lettin’ either of you go nowhere. Do you understand me?”

When I don’t answer right away, Ryan grips my face tighter, and I wince. The pain is sharp and makes my eyes water. I kick myself inside, trying to shut out the pain, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

“I said, do you understand me?” he repeats.

“I heard you, Ryan. Okay? I heard you.”

He grips my face even harder for a moment, staring hard into my eyes, before letting go of me. He turns and stuffs some snacks into his backpack before zipping it up and snatching it off the counter. As he slings it over a shoulder, he turns to me.

“I’ll be back at some point this afternoon,” he says. “I want the house clean and I want you to cook a roast for tonight.”

Yeah, fat chance of that happening. But there’s no way in hell I’m going to say that, so I simply nod as demurely as I can manage. He walks out of the kitchen and I hear him rummaging around in the closet. I step into the doorway just in time to see him pulling out his rifle case. He checks the latches on it, then turns and heads for the front door. Ryan doesn’t say anything as he walks out, slamming the door behind him, and I move into the living room, standing to the side of the window as unobtrusively as I can, so he can’t see me.

My stomach and heart both fluttering wildly, I watch at the window as Ryan’s truck pulls out of the driveway and rockets down the road. I chew on my bottom lip as I pace the room, waiting for the phone to ring. And when it does about ten minutes later, I damn near jump out of my own skin. I’m wound way too tight right now, but I think I can be forgiven, considering the circumstances.

“He just picked up Rory,” Maggie says. “It’s time to go. Pack up that precious angel of yours and get out of there, hon.”

As Maggie tells me that Ryan picked up her boyfriend for their hunting trip, hesitation and uncertainty take hold of me and I fall silent. Gripping the phone tightly, I pace the living room, my face flushed and red.

“Ash. This isn’t the time to get cold feet. You’ve got a window, but it’s not going to be open long. If you’re going, you need to go. And believe me hon, you really need to go. If not for yourself, do it for Cole.”

Her words stop me in my tracks for a moment. The sound of Cole chattering away in his bedroom as he plays with his toys fills my ears, and tugs at my heart. A thousand thoughts collide in my mind, pulling me in a thousand different directions. My eyes well with tears and I feel a hitch in my chest.

“Is taking him away from his father the right thing to do?” I ask.

“If that father is as terrible as Ryan is, then yes. It absolutely is.”