Wicked Liar by Faith Summers

Chapter Nineteen

Candace

I roll onto my side and slide my hand over the silk sheet, reaching for him.

Dominic was there earlier. He took my hand and one kiss to my lips had me back in his arms with him buried deep inside me.

I want that again.

I want him again, but... my hand comes away with nothing.

Opening my eyes to the bright morning sun heralds reality. It's a new day. We had last night, and I already know from the emptiness and hollow feeling surrounding the air in my room that he's gone.

That feeling is familiar to me. It was how I felt after he left years ago and I realized he wasn't coming back. At least not when I wanted him to.

Now he's back, and he wants me back.

I sit up, pull the sheet closer to cover my breasts then look around the room. That's when I see the little pink origami angel sitting at the edge of the bed, resting by my feet.

He made me another one.

I crawl over to it and pick it up. There's a note on the back. It says:

Angel, I want you back. Give me your answer by sundown. I'll be waiting.

A strangled breath exhales from my lips and my fingers fold in, tightening on the edge of the angel.

I'm to give him my answer by sundown.

What is my answer?

I... don't know.

I honestly don't know.

When I think of last night, I know what my body wants. I know what my heart wants. When I think of everything in its entirety, though, I don't know the answer that would be right for me.

Until last night, I just had the night we had in the Bahamas to hold on to. Last night was different, the soreness between my legs is a testament of all we did, and how we did it. After a two-year hiatus from not just him but men in general, that part of me was excited to be with the one guy I’ve always wanted to be with.

Last night he took me in a way I'll never forget. We had sex all night.

I don't really remember falling asleep, but I must have at some point in the early hours of the morning. Now I'm left with the question and the battle of giving an answer.

Last night told me I still love him, and I think I always will. But I don't think the answer can be as simple as that.

Dominic couldn’t have picked a worst time to drop this bomb on me.

How am I supposed to be with him when I have this plan I’m concocting for Jacques?

No, wait... this isn't about Jacques. It's not.

I shake my head and bring my hand to my heart. That question has nothing to do with Jacques, or the plan to find justice for my parents.

This is about me.

So I can't think about Jacques, although with the auction being tomorrow I'd have to factor him in.

To really give an answer, I have to push everything out of my mind and think of myself.

The answer has to exist outside everything that's happening to me at the moment.

If my answer is yes, it has to be because it's the right thing to do for me. I can't just be Candace of the past and skip back into Dominic's arms, forgiving him for everything just because he's Dominic D'Agostino.

I can't be that girl. I have to be a woman and be strong in my decision, bearing in mind I'd obviously have to say goodbye to that little plan of mine to get close to Jacques. I'll have to factor in what that might mean since I've already done the math and all the mental acrobatics of possibilities and still came up with the auction as the way to get what I want.

If my answer is no, that has to be for the right reasons too.

I sit there in the bed and think, then I realize clarity won't come in this hollow apartment.

There's only one place I can think of right now that can help me put things in perspective, so I fire off a message to Massimo telling him I'm working from home today. When he replies telling me to take whatever time I need, I'm glad I work for him. I'm sure with the amount of work-from-home days I've had in just this week, most bosses would have fired me by now.

I get dressed and leave, promising myself I'll make use of the day, and when I come back through those doors later, I'll come back less conflicted.

* * *

The drive to Stormy Creek took just under two hours because I got stuck in traffic. It's roughly an hour and a half away from my home in Santa Monica. As I drive through the town and look at some of the dilapidated buildings, just the thought that someone like me lives in a penthouse apartment in Santa Monica has my head spinning. Me, a Stormy Creek rat.

That's what the rich kids at school used to call us.

I left here when I was seventeen. Giacomo D'Agostino made it big like the Beverly Hillbillies when he invested in the oil business. He took me with him and treated me like his own daughter.

We moved to L.A. to a beautiful mansion and years later when Massimo moved into his own home I moved with him. It was a psychological thing that stuck with me that I couldn't be too far away from him. Of all the guys, he was the craziest, and the one who had women falling at his feet daily, so I'm sure he couldn't have been too fond of the idea of having me around. But he humored me by not just taking care of me but allowing me to earn my keep when I insisted on it. That's how I became his housekeeper. Year in, year out, I worked and hoped the time would come when I got better.

Then I did. Getting my apartment was a bigger step than anybody would know. So was living on my own. I was always scared to be by myself and was always looking around corners and watching my back. For a long time, I fully believed the tattooed man would come back and kill me. It took years to trust I was safe.

I turn the corner by the creek. The road ahead will take me to the meadows where I used to live.

I'm there within five minutes, and I look out at my old house as I drive by. I still can't go too close to it. I haven't stepped foot inside since the night my parents were killed.

Instead of turning up the path that leads there, I head down to the bottom of the hill and park by the D'Agostino house. It's still their place, and Massimo now owns most of the land and the surrounding homes that cover the meadows. He bought it all in an attempt to preserve memories from those days where we were the kids playing in the meadows and our parents would sit and watch us. His mother would paint, mine would bake, and our fathers would talk about fishing.

I get out of my car and make my way to the place between both houses. This would have been where Dominic used to sit. Ahead of me is his home, behind me is mine.

I drop to the patch of grass and look at both houses. They're both little cottages, but each gives off a different vibe.

His home reminds me of his parents and when I look down to the porch, I can still see them dancing to that old jazz song.

It still fills my heart with the same hope of true love.

Behind me... I can't even look at my old home properly without feeling sick. I have the same stomach churning sensation I always have when I come here.

It's strange how so many terrible things happened to me in this place yet the magic that flows from the old D'Agostino home is still strong enough to reach me. I don't come here a lot, but I have on occasion and I can still feel it. Like always, it cleanses my mind of any uneasiness I feel.

Today, I think I'm here because this was the place where everything changed for me. I also think any decision I make on giving Dominic a second chance has to take the past into consideration.

What I remember when I think of Dominic was a boy who was kind to me. Like his brothers and his father, he always made sure I was taken care of, but it felt more like he was doing that because we were friends.

I was the friend and it was clear that was all I'd ever be from the obvious obliviousness to my feelings for me. it was almost like a pretense, like the way you'd act when you aren't interested in a person and you don't want to hurt their feelings by having to tell them. With all his intelligence, there's no way he didn't know how I felt when I'm sure everyone else did.

It got to a point where I accepted I didn't have a hope in hell of being with him. There's definitely no way I thought I'd be sitting here today contemplating being his.

The bottom line is Dominic never noticed me, and if he did he made a point of making sure I knew he wasn't interested.

Add that to feeling like I wasn't important enough for him to stay after he shot me and I think I have valid reasons not to give him a second chance.

That feeling of not being important, however, is what's really hitting me hard.

I understand why he left.

I understand he felt guilty and ashamed of what he did and that he was on drugs.

I understand he thought he needed to get away and clean up, but I refuse to accept the way he treated me.

It didn't fucking help that I knew he was keeping in touch with his brothers. It really pissed me off that he didn't think to write to me even once. I went through hell not knowing where he was, worring myself sick at one point.

When I lay in that hospital bed fighting for my life, I was so weak. I'll go as far as saying it was the weakest I'd ever felt in my life. After everything that happened to me with Uncle Lucas before my parents died, that's quite a declaration, because my God did I go through a lot with that man.

After Dominic shot me there were points I remember while I was still in a coma that I thought I was going to die. There were several times when I really believed it was the end and I was never going to see anyone ever again. When I made it back I was so happy I did and the one person I needed to be there for me wasn't.

That was all it was. I just needed Dominic to be there for me.

Telling me he loved me meant nothing if he didn't show it. Instead, what he showed me was the opposite.

After I came out of the hospital, Massimo and Emelia nursed me back to health and they nursed my heart too.

When I got better I promised myself to never give anyone that kind of power over me ever again. Dominic hurt me, but being back here reminds me it wasn't just him who hurt me.

Thirteen years ago the most important people in my life were ripped from my world and I need to find out why. If and when I do then I need to find Candace Ricci. I need to find out who I would have become and open that door for her.

I stand up and look back to my old bedroom window. Like the ghosts of Dominic's parents dancing on the porch, I can see the ghost of myself wishing she could call out for help.

I'm still that girl.

I will not wait for a prince to save me. I have to save myself in every way.

So this thing with Jacques has to happen, and I have to come to terms with my decision on what to do about Dominic.

* * *

Dominic's door opens seconds after I ring the bell. He looks like he was waiting for me, just as his note said. As his eyes rest on me and roam over my face, he gives me a knowing look that tells me he knows what I'm going to say.

He knows this isn’t going to be a good visit.

“Hello, Angel,” he says.

“Hello.”

“Come in.” He steps aside for me to enter.

When I do, I purposely stop by the door. "I won't stay long."

"I guess that means that answer you have for me isn't the one I want."

“No,” I murmur in an undertone. “I can’t be with you. I can’t do it.” As I say the words something in my heart snaps and shatters.

“Why?”

I pull in a deep breath and try to steady my nerves. “Because… you hurt me more when you left than when you shot me. I think it hurt me so badly that you left because it means I can't trust you."

"Candace, how can you say that about me? We grew up together. You know you can trust me."

"No, I can't and that's what saddens me because I did trust you. I always did. But, I can't trust you with my heart, the most fragile part of me. When you left the way you did you showed me I can't rely on you. You showed me you won't be there for me when I need you. You showed me what you would do. I could have died Dominic. Even though you saw me wake up from the coma, you don't know what could have happened days after and if it had, no one would have been able to reach you. That's not how you treat someone you claim to love. I think I deserve better than that. I'm worth more than that." I nod and fight back tears. "It's been a long week. A really long week. I think we both need time and space.”

We stare at each other for what feels like eons. Now that I’ve said my piece, I have nothing left and I just need to get away and be by myself.

“I’m gonna go,” I state when he doesn’t answer.

I turn to leave, but he calls out my name before I get to the door. When I look back at him and take in his hardened gaze, that shiver of fear I felt yesterday when he spoke to Jacques lances through me.

“I won’t stop,” he declares sounding like he's making a vow.

“What?”

“I won’t stop trying. You loved me once. I’ll make you do it again, even if it takes forever. I won't give up.”

My eyes bulge. “Dominic, I…. told you no.”

"I don't fucking care. Rest assured, I will find a way to make you love me, but most of all to trust me again. You're right, you deserve better, and you are worth more than how I treated you. Since I'm the selfish motherfucker who wants you for himself, I just have to find the way to be that guy who can show you you're worth," he replies, shocking me to my core. Then it’s him who walks away, leaving me.

A tear runs down my cheek as I watch him, and I wonder what the hell's going to happen next.