Dominic: The Protectors Trilogy - Book one Read online




  COPYRIGHT

  No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written consent from the author, except in the instance of quotes for reviews. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded, or distributed via the Internet without the permission of the author, which is a violation of the International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines and imprisonment.

  This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, incidents, and places are products of the author’s imagination, and are not to be construed as real except where noted and authorized. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or actual events are entirely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, names featured are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used.

  Cover Design: Murphy Rae, www.murphyrae.net

  Formatting: Elaine York with Allusion Graphics, LLC

  Editorial Agency www.tulipbooks.com.br

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Epilogue 1

  About the next book

  Author's Message

  JP, for love and complicity.

  Synopsis

  Dominic has overcome a miserable childhood where he struggled to protect himself and his younger siblings from the dangers of living on the streets. Now he dedicates his life to doing everything in his power to prevent others from going through what he did.

  Luna was ripped from her stable life and is now on the run from her greedy stepfather. When looking for food in a community center’s trash, Dominic catches her red-handed.

  She wants to run away.

  He wants to protect her.

  What Dominic doesn’t expect is for the girl to worm her way into his heart. She is too young—a big problem.

  To resist the overwhelming temptation of this innocent girl will be the biggest challenge of his life.

  Luna

  “Go, girl, go!” The woman hurls a big sweatshirt at me before hurrying to open the door.

  As much as I want to obey, my body won’t move. I’m so weak that I can’t even put the shirt on, so she quickly helps me.

  Once out in the hallway, she motions toward another door that leads to the stairs. “Around here …”

  Leaning against the wall, the fetid smell, a mix of disinfectant and antibiotics, spreads through the air.

  Oh, my God, I can’t stand it anymore. I swallow with difficulty, feeling each little part of my body hurt. I try to straighten, to catch a deep breath, but every little movement causes severe chest pain. My whole body throbs.

  Trembling, I stop in front of her before I turn to leave. “Thank you … you saved me …”

  With her delicate, agile hands, she secures the hood of the sweatshirt around my head then looks into my eyes. “Take care. That man won’t give up looking for you, sweetie. Stay hidden until you’re somewhere safe.”

  Dominic

  I divert my attention from the inventory report to see Simone approaching, closing her cardigan to try to protect herself from the cold wind.

  Her disappointed face tells me what I already predicted. “He came … again.” I sigh, shaking my head. This is the third consecutive night the hooded boy has turned up at the community center garbage, looking for food. It’s a damn shame with all the free food that we serve here.

  “He ran away when saw me,” she says sadly, stopping by my side.

  It doesn’t take a genius to know the kid’s motivation. No one without a good reason would hide in the cold and dark when they have a better option inside.

  I slip the paper inside my desk drawer, telling her, “I’ll try to talk to him tomorrow. For tonight, I think we should just close everything and go home.”

  Simone agrees.

  She is my right-hand man at the community center, one of the first people who volunteered here. She is extremely dedicated to this place. Even with her nursing job at the hospital during the day, she still spends every night here, cooking and serving dozens of visitors.

  Looking around the silent, empty center, it’s hard to imagine this place was full thirty minutes ago, as usual.

  I wipe my face, feeling the signs of exhaustion after working too hard.

  “You don’t have to hang around,” Simone says. “You need to take time to take care of yourself, boy. I can see that you’re tired.”

  I almost smile at the irony. “I could say the same for you. If I remember correctly, we already talked about you slowing down,” I say seriously, hoping she takes a hint.

  She huffs. “My grandma worked until she was ninety. I’m stronger than that.” Her prideful words are accompanied by an echoing laugh.

  I shake my head at her stubbornness.

  • • •

  Home at my apartment, located a few blocks away from the community center, I leave my boots in the living room then undress and toss my clothes into the corner of the room. The place is small, but it has everything I need.

  I remind myself to wash the accumulating pile of laundry tomorrow.

  Naked, I head into the shower and let the hot water wash away my exhaustion.

  My day, as usual, started early. I’ve been working with a group to build a small housing complex for the victims of the Rockefeller fire. A factory was careless and a leak caused one of the worst fires the city has ever seen. I’m the engineer on the project.

  After my shower, I lie in bed and check my cell phone. There are missed calls from Damien, Christian, and one from Sophie. Damien and Chris are my younger brothers. We used to have two other brothers, Vivian and Richard, who would be twenty-five and twenty-seven respectively, if they were still alive. The memories still bring me down.

  I look at the clock, deciding whether to return the calls or not. Then I decide to call Damien first, who answers on the third ring.

  “Dom?” he answers, sounding a little breathless. I’m probably interrupting a good time.

  “Who else would be calling you at this time?” I tease.

  “Man, why have a cell phone if you don’t answer the fucking thing?” Patience isn’t one of his virtues. Dam has had an attitude since he was a kid.

  “There are two reasons why a person wouldn’t answer, bro. Either they can’t or they don’t want to. Have you ever stopped to think about that?”

  “Very instructional. Anyway, I’m out of town until tomorrow night. The builder has closed another big contract.” When he hesitates, I can sense what he’s about to say. “When I get back, we need to talk, Dom.”

  I expected that, but especially after tod
ay, I feel too tired to deal with another one of his lectures.

  “Don’t give me that shit again, Damien.”

  I hear a female voice calling to him in the background.

  “Just think about it, okay? I’ll see you at Saturday’s basketball game. Christian will be with us, too.”

  I exhale heavily, having forgotten. “That’s right. I’ll see you there.”

  After I hang up, I stare at the screen for some time. I know my brother will never give up on getting me back to that company.

  Before I set the phone down, I send a quick text to Sophie, telling her I’ll call her back tomorrow.

  Sophie and I have a kind of friendship that goes a bit beyond what’s considered orthodox, so to speak. We hook up from time to time without involving feelings. It’s an arrangement that we’re both comfortable with. And even if I want more than that one day, I’m aware of something she may not even know—there isn’t space in her heart for a new person, in light of everything that has happened to her. I respect that. She’s a fortress.

  Turning off the light, I stare at the dark ceiling for a long time before sleep takes me.

  • • •

  After another long day at work, I’m back at the community center in the early evening, helping the volunteers start their shifts.

  Julia, Alice, and Gabrielle are here again. All three are constant presences, just like Katarina and Priscilla. These women have really gotten involved with what we do and have been a great help. For example, a few months ago, Alice, Priscilla, and Katarina organized an event to obtain patronage for the center. Meanwhile, Julia started offering legal aid to all the people who need assistance and can’t afford it. It’s essential work that makes a huge difference here.

  After greeting them, I distance myself, letting them do what they need to do. Like most who help us, they already know what to do.

  Due to the cold night and the rain that threatens to fall, we can expect a larger crowd than normal during dinner.

  No matter how hard I try to avoid it, my thoughts go to the hooded boy. I need to talk to him, let him know he’s welcome to the food here.

  Knowing what he’s doing brings back some bitter memories. I know well enough what it feels like to go hungry … and to see your brothers die of hunger. Whatever the guy’s going through, this has to end. Last night was the last time.

  With that in mind, I head outside to hide in the shadows. I wait a long time before I finally see him.

  The boy is wearing an oversized dark sweatshirt that swallows his lean form, his head hidden under the hoodie. The steady rain and low lighting prevent me from seeing his face.

  From where I stand, I watch as he searches anxiously through the garbage bags, ripping at knots with trembling hands. Then, silently, like a thief, I walk toward him until I’m close enough that he can’t escape without passing me.

  “You’re welcome to come inside,” I say softly, careful not to frighten him away.

  The boy startles anyway. When he turns, I see a dirty face and large, clear eyes staring at me like a deer in headlights. I’m surprised by the fiery-red hair breaking loose from the edges of the hood and the fact that … he’s a … girl?

  Dominic

  “You’re … a girl,” I mutter, feeling stupid at the statement.

  She doesn’t speak as she quickly tries to rush past me. Unfortunately for her, I stop her at her third step, grabbing her around the waist.

  “Wait. You don’t have to run away,” I say, dragging her struggling form in front of me.

  Her wild eyes roam frantically, searching for a new escape route.

  “Calm down, girl.” I soften my tone so I don’t scare her. “My name is Dominic. I volunteer here and just wanna invite you inside to eat away from this rain. There’s good, hot food.”

  “Let me go,” she replies, weak and trembling like she’s sick.

  I look at her more closely. Even through the sweatshirt, I can feel the heat of her body. And she isn’t just warm; she looks feverish. I focus on her grimy face. Her voluminous lips are purple, and her scared eyes are red. The tremor is just another clue.

  “You’re not …” Before I can finish the sentence, she sags in my arms. “Well.”

  “Don’t call anyone …” is all she mutters, almost lifeless, before unconsciousness pulls her under.

  What the hell?

  “Simone!” I shout through the small kitchen window, easily holding the girl’s gaunt frame.

  Simone hurries into the alley, her hips swaying as she tries to run toward me. When she sees what I have in my arms, a small “Oh” escapes her lips.

  “What happened?” she asks quietly, sounding shocked.

  I look at the girl, trying to understand why she just collapsed like that. “She passed out,” I state the obvious.

  “Call an ambulance,” Simone suggests.

  I look again at the girl’s dirty face, partially covered by fire-red locks. She told me not to call anyone. Does that include an ambulance? Why would she say that? What’s she hiding?

  My life on the streets taught me many things, including knowing when someone is in some serious shit, which seems to be the case here.

  “Dominic …?” Simone interrupts my thoughts.

  “No,” I say, surprising myself. “She asked me not to call anyone.”

  “But she needs help!”

  “You’re a nurse, Simone. Help her,” I say firmly, trying to recover my mind.

  The woman looks from me to the girl in my arms before looking back at me. With a disgusted snort, she says, “Take her inside. There’s no one else here.”

  I swing the girl up into my arms. I have carried other women in my arms, but none so light.

  Luna

  It’s cold, very cold, and dark.

  “Luna, you can’t give up,” I hear a velvety soft voice say.

  My mom.

  “Mom, I’m so cold. I wanna be with you. Let me go,” I beg.

  “Sweetie, it’ll pass. Don’t be afraid. The cold is already gone.” I can hear her soft voice, but I can’t see her face.

  “No, Mother! I wanna go with you, please!”

  My mother doesn’t speak again.

  Why is she doing this to me? Leaving me here, in the cold, in the dark, alone?

  I want to go with her somewhere warm. I want to be with her.

  “Her temperature is too high, Dom.” I don’t recognize the female voice in the back of my mind.

  The dark comes to enfold me once again in its embrace, preventing me from hearing anything else. My mother is gone …

  Dominic

  She has a high fever. Sweat streaks the dirt on her face, and her slim body is shaking uncontrollably on the office’s small sofa. The worst part is there’s nothing here that can help her.

  I rub my face. “What can we do?”

  “Dom, we should take her to the hospital.”

  “She asked me not to call anyone, Simone. You know what that means, don’t you?” I look at the girl and frown, concerned.

  She waves her hand. “The child is in hot water. I’d take her to my house, but there’s no room there now that Jennifer is separated and moved back in with me. There are four people in that small house.”

  I take a deep breath, thinking about what to do. We have no other options.

  “Let’s take her to my apartment,” I say, disregarding all that’s rational.

  Simone stares at me with an Are you sure about that? look.

  “Hell no, I’m not sure. Take home a strange girl who’s in some shit, knowing absolutely nothing about her? Definitely not sure. But it’s all I can think to do for now,” I tell her, letting Simone see my uncertainty.

  Luna

  My body hurts, my chest feels like an elephant is sitting on it, yet I don’t feel cold anymore.

  Slowly, and with great effort, I open my eyes and find a pair of dark irises fixed on me. I blink until my vision adjusts to see the face of an old black lady with gray hair a
nd protruding cheekbones. Her expression looks … I don’t know, worried? Well, she doesn’t seem like a threat to me so that’s good … I hope.

  I quickly try to get up to leave wherever I am, knowing it isn’t safe, but the strenuous movement only throws me back and makes me dizzy.

  “Calm down, girl. You’re not well.” The woman’s voice is soft and gentle.

  “Where am I?” I ask with difficulty, hardly able to make out the words.

  “We brought you to my home,” a deep masculine voice echoes from behind the woman.

  Oh God!

  I try to see the face of the voice’s owner, but the woman is standing in my way.

  “How are you?” She smiles. “My name is Simone, and I’m a nurse, my child. I help out at the community center where you fainted. This is Dominic. He’s the boss there. He’s the one who found you going through our trash. And this is his house,” she finishes.

  Oh God, I’m at a stranger’s home.

  Not bad, Luna, for someone who wanders the streets.

  “Okay.” I lick my parched lips. “Thanks so much for the help. Now I need to go.” I try not to get up so fast this time.

  “You can’t go anywhere like this,” the deep-voiced man says.

  I look at the lady, in search of support, but she shakes her head at me, agreeing with him. Well, I don’t need her help. I don’t care.

  Preparing to sit up, I’m suddenly overtaken by a stronger fit of dizziness that forces me to close my eyes for a few moments. When I open them again, I can finally see the owner of the strong voice.

  He’s tall and lean with wide shoulders and big arms, wearing a white long-sleeved T-shirt pushed up to his elbows, showing the contours of his muscles. Tattoos cover the parts of his arms that I can see. His hair is a bit longer than what’s usual, and it’s light brown or dark blond—I don’t know how to define it. A thick beard covers part of his face. For a second, I stop breathing when my eyes connect with his gray ones. So many emotions can be read there: worry, mistrust, expectation. I momentarily forget what I intended to do … just momentarily.