He had said it was either me or him. I guess he really hadn’t been kidding about that.
Everything seemed to happen so fast, even though it also felt strangely like slow motion. The paramedics arrived with the police right behind them. A firetruck rolled up as well. Apparently, my car was on fire.
I was loaded onto a stretcher, a neck brace put on me while my vitals were checked. Damon got into the ambulance with me as they whisked us to the hospital. The flashing lights and sirens all made everything feel so surreal.
Despite what had occurred, I felt surprisingly good, like I could get up and walk around if they would let me. I didn’t think my injuries were too bad. Maybe a bit of a concussion. All of my parts seemed to be in place, so there was that.
Damon sat off to one side, nervously chewing his cheek while he watched the paramedics tend to me. We both knew how bad this was. Someone had just taken a serious shot at me. Whether it had been Dominik or Project X, it was trouble either way.
At the hospital I was rushed into the emergency room where I was quickly tended to. Since I didn’t have to wait, I figured I must have looked pretty rough. Damon waited outside while I was stripped down and examined.
I got lucky. No serious injuries. They didn’t even think I had a concussion. Although they gave me some signs to watchfor, telling me to come back immediately if anything changed. A cut on my forehead was bandaged. Then I was released.
I met Damon in the waiting room. He wasn’t alone. Two police officers waited with him wanting to speak to both of us. Fuck.
“We’d like to have you two come down to the station to answer a few questions. We can give you a lift and then have someone take you home after.” The cop who spoke was a large middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair. Without saying so, he made it clear that we didn’t really have a choice.
Damon and I exchanged a look as we followed the officers from the building. I knew they were just doing their jobs, but they had to know we weren’t going to tell them shit. That’s not how this worked.
At the police station we were taken into an interrogation room where they offered us coffee and water. I accepted the water. Damon refused both.
Both officers sat across the table from us. The younger skinny guy sat back, observing as his partner took the lead.
“I’m Officer Hargrove. This is Officer Daniels. We have a few questions about the blast tonight.” Hargrove glanced between Damon and me. “Is there anything you would like to tell us about it?”
His expression clearly revealed that he knew we weren’t going to say anything. I wasn’t sure why we were even doing this.
“I don’t think there’s much we can tell you,” I began. “I started my car, heard a ticking noise, and jumped out. That’s about it.”
“And you have no idea who would want to target you in such a way?” Hargrove stared hard at me, like he thought with his most intense stare he would break me.
“I have no idea. This kind of thing has never happened before.” With a shrug, I sipped from my water. My head was starting to throb despite the painkiller the doctor had given me.
“Explosions like this are often seen among those engaged in organized crime,” he continued, determined to get answers. “Do either of you have any ties to such things? If so, this is the time to be honest. We can’t help you if you don’t tell us what you know.”
I gave him my best innocent expression. I’m sure he saw right through it, but I wasn’t going to play this game. I wasn’t a fucking rat. “I’m sorry. I don’t know anything. If I did, I would tell you. Maybe it was a case of mistaken identity. We haven’t lived in that house very long.”
While the cops continued to grill us, I was already thinking about how I would hit back at Dom for pulling a shady move like this. I wasn’t stupid enough to believe that exchanging a few orgasms changed anything between us. He was still Dominik Taylor, and I was still me.
The cops kept us there answering stupid questions for another hour before they let us go home. They promised to be in touch if they had more questions. Pointless really. We would never have any answers for them.
When we got back to the house, my car was being loaded onto a flatbed. There wasn’t much left of it. I dreaded that call to the insurance company. The blast had damaged the garage door and some of the siding on the house, but thankfully, nothing too extreme. My car had taken the worst of it.
“So what now?” Damon’s expression was pure malice. “Do you think Dom acted alone or was this the Kings? We can’t let them get away with this.”
“We don’t know for sure that it was them at all,” I pointed out. “For all we know, it could have been Project X. Maybe they’re pissed that I don’t want to do the job for them anymore.”
“Or maybe Dom is pissed because he knows about the job, and he’s trying to get to you first.” Muttering obscenities, Damon paced around the kitchen, tugging a handful of his unruly black hair.
Deep down I already knew that it was Dom. I felt it in my gut. But if Damon knew that, he would be all over the situation. I wasn’t sure I wanted him to be part of this. He was my best friend, and I trusted him like nobody else. However, this conflict was between Dom and me. I wanted to keep it that way.
“Let’s get some sleep. We can figure this out after we’ve had some rest. My back hurts from hitting the ground. I don’t want to think about this anymore tonight.” There was nothing I could say to convince Damon we didn’t need to take action. It wasn’t in our nature to sit back and take shit.
After retreating to my bedroom, I sat heavily on the bed, groaning as pain shot through my body. My head still ached despite the painkillers. On one hand, I appreciated that Dom was willing to make such a bold move. Yet I couldn’t let this go unpunished.
He could have killed me. He fuckingtriedto kill me. Now it was war.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
