Chapter 12 | The captors

Breakfast for the Alains reflected their family detachment. Three males silently sat there, one a slave of society, the second constantly pissed and willing to punch, and the youngest with nothing on his mind right now because the food was distractingly delicious.

Dominic tried not to look at the head of the table where his mom used to sit. He never made it apparent but looking at the places that reminded him of her gave him flashbacks and anxiety—which of course wasn't to be actually associated with him because tough boys like Dominic and anxiety couldn't go together.

"You been going anywhere at night, Dominic?"

Now Dominic wished the silence had persisted. He didn't take his eyes off the plate, kept chewing like he hadn't heard a thing. Three taps. Probably his dad's fork knocking expectantly against the table.

Dominic finally answered with a sigh, "No."

George snorted. "Right. So you haven't been going to that garage? You know, where pathetic teens go to snort cocaine and drink cheap booze? And, of course, start punching each other like idiots. That's definitely somewhere I'd like people saying my son goes to."

"Looks like you know that place well. You been going there behind my back?"

George let out a long sigh. After a lifetime of knowing him, he'd come to the conclusion that it was hard to break Dom's habits. Harder to make him admit. "Dominic, son, I'm a business man. I can't have people talking shit about my son. Everyone already says you're an angry bull. You want them calling you a filthy addict too?"

Dominic finally caught his father in the eyes. He dropped his fork and leant back, straightening his shoulders. "I don't care about what people say."

"What people say affects my reputation. Reputation affects my business. The clothes you're wearing and the food you're eating are from my money."

"How significant. And yeah, I've been going there. And I won't stop."

"Because that's healthy."

Dom laughed, shallow and mocking. "Like worshipping money is any better."

George slammed a hand down on the table. Everything on top quivered for a moment and Lou's cup was almost knocked down. Dom eyed his brother and trapped a breath in his lungs.

"Piece of shit." George's voice started rising, bordering at Lou's discomfort level which Dom knew well. "I said stop going to that place and that's what you're gonna do."

Dom sighed. "Don't yell like that, Lou's here."

"So what? I don't care if Lou's here or not, all I care about is that my dumbass of a son is ruining my reputation! You're gonna be eighteen soon and you act like a bratty eight-year-old!"

"I said, stop yelling," Dom repeated through gritted teeth. "Lou hates it. And if he hates it, it means you better not do it in front of him."

George shook his head to himself and sighed loudly. He knew that Dom was harder than brick. "What did I do to deserve a son like you." He brought out a pipe and started smoking because Dom gave him headaches. Cigarettes were out of his league.

Dom watched the end of the pipe spurt out tufts of smoke that clustered by Lou's face. Lou narrowed his eyes distastefully then he coughed and tried turning away.

"Don't smoke in Lou's face like that."

George's expression froze. He gazed at Dom through the edge of his eyes, lips parted enough for Dom to see the pipe hanging precariously between his upper and lower rows of teeth.

Then he took another drag, angling the pipe spitefully at Lou's face.

Dom jerked forwards and slammed a hand down on the table. "I said don't smoke in his face."

"And I said don't go to that place anymore."

Dom took a shallow breath through his nose then stood and walked over to Lou. He caught his arm, tugging him off the chair. "Come."

"But I wanna eat—"

"Your lungs are more important than food, Lou!"

"You keep spoiling him like that," George spat over his shoulder as they walked towards the door. "Give him a few years and he'll turn like you."

Dom stopped. "Still better than turning out like you."

He took Lou to his room and watched him climb onto the bed. With slow steps, he approached and dug his knee into the side of the white mattress, nudging Lou.

"Still hungry?"

"No."

Dom dipped his knee in, leaning his torso forward in time, until he was sprawled on his side beside Lou. "You don't like it when dad and I fight, right? I'm sorry."

Lou turned towards him, brown hair flopping over to the side. "It's okay, Dom. I just don't like seeing you angry."

"Don't worry about me. Worry about yourself. See how he smoked in your face? That's bad for your lungs."

"Maybe accidenta—"

"Don't justify for him, Lou. I hate him, we hate him. You should hate him."

Lou just stared. A part of him longed for a change, for better days where his dad wouldn't be yelling and Dom wouldn't be angry. Normal life, normal family—

Dom knew what he was thinking. "We don't need him, Lou. You need me." He caught his chin and forced his vision into perfect alignment with his when he'd tried to look away. "Say it."

"But—"

"Say it."

Dom was always right. Lou didn't negotiate. "I hate him."

The edge of Dom's lip gradually pulled up until he was smiling. He stared for a moment, still like a wall, then jerked forwards and ducked his head, nuzzling into Lou's stomach.

Lou made a noise that was closer to a squeal and pulled his knees towards his chest protectively, breathless laughter spilling through parted lips. "Dom, stop! That tickles!"

Dom liked eliciting this reaction because it made him feel like Lou was happy, like he could make him happy. He pulled back and watched him slowly settle again. Dom's mouth curved up bitterly when their eyes connected.

I'm sorry I can't make it up for mom's death. I'm sorry I can't fill that void for you. That was what Dom's eyes said. Lou made him emotional, Lou made him less of a robot and more of a human.

Dom scooted off the bed and left his phone there, cocking his head in its direction. "Play with my phone. I'm gonna go work out a bit, yeah? Don't get out of this room and don't talk to dad."

Lou nodded and reached for the phone. If Dom could let Lou play with his phone like that, it meant something.

He left him there and walked out, heading straight to the basement where his stress-reliever was present: none other than his own punching bag he'd finally bought.

But when he made it to the basement, hot blood pumping with the need to punch, it wasn't there. He froze in his spot. Frowned. Took two steps and that was when he snapped out and jerked forwards, fast and sharp.

He looked around the basement, trying to find it. In vain. He stood in his spot. Somehow, he knew his father had to do with this. And he wasn't wrong. When he turned, the confirmation was standing at the threshold.

George's stare on Dominic was taunting. "Looking for something?"

"Where is it?"

"What?"

"The punching bag!"

Slowly, a smile formed on George's lips and the aging skin around his mouth wrinkled. Greed was poison. "I threw it."

Dominic face-palmed. Not mentally, not inconspicuously. He brought his hand up and smacked his forehand hard as loud as possible. "What. The Actual. Hell. Why, dad, why!"

"Because I thought letting you get one would make you less angry. Turns out it made you more of a crazy bitch. You don't need it. It just adds to your anger issues."

"I saved money for that!"

"Woah, wait." George spread out his palms like he was about to open a serious debate. "Did you? I mean, you saved the money that I give you. Which means, the punching bag is actually mine. And which means I'm free to throw it whenever I want. If you want your shit for yourself, then how about you try to be less of a failure and get your ass into working as hard as I do for my income!"

Dominic knew this was where the entire thing was going. Anywhere, any angle, loops and curves, it all would wind up here. He narrowed his eyes. "I can't believe it. Do you think this money will follow you to the grave? You're supposed to be saving it for your kids! If I don't use it then who the hell will?"

"You can use it. But not to buy the shit that will make you go cray-cray."

The mocking choice of words ticked Dom off. He tipped his chin up, just a little, eyelids dropping closed.

George watched his chest heave once, stiff and furious. Teeth clenched, muscles in his jaw tight: everything about Dom at the instant made it clear he was about to fight.

Dom suddenly opened his eyes again and leveled his vision with his father's. A step forward, tight fist angled to punch any moment. "Don't ever touch my stuff again. Ever."

"Or what?"

Dom brought his first up. Do it. So ready to fight. It would be his first time lashing out on his own father like that. "I'm not scared of punching you. Trust me, I'm not."

When George looked at Dom like that, young boy towering above him, brown eyes raging and shoulders squared, he realized his own son had become stronger than him. Sometimes it scared him. But it wouldn't get worse, would it?

Dom pulled away. All of a sudden. Made his fist unclench but the muscles were still tight. Don't do it. He took a step back and looked away. Not that he was ashamed. He just wanted to back out because looking at this filth of a father one more time would make him punch. Not one. Hundreds. Until his heart would be content.

But he didn't want to do that because it could establish his issues and he wanted to evade the truth. Dom hurried to the door without giving an explanation, a predator backing out mid-fight. At the threshold, he heard a coarse cough, wet and strained.

Something about hearing his father cough like that eased him for a mere second. Dom said, "I'm so glad smoking kills."

*_*_*_*_*_*_*

"I can't sell a tranquilizer without a prescription, Dominic. Especially to you. Get out."

Dom sighed and slammed a hand down on the counter in the pharmacy. "Who cares? Give me the stupid tranquilizer, I'll pay you extra."

"I won't. Stop wasting my time and yours. If you constantly need a tranquilizer then you probably need to see a therapist. This won't solve it. Get out. Now."

Dom made a noise of exasperation then looked up and slapped his hand back against his side hard. "Why does everyone like to piss me off like that?" He headed towards the glass door. "I hope you fall off the stairs or something."

"You're sick."

Dominic snorted. "Aren't we all?"

"No, just you."

"Acceptance is the first step to recovery. I'm closer than you, asshole."

Dom left then. He stood in front of the store, leaning an elbow up against an iron pole then resting his head against it. When he straightened again, sighing loudly, he looked at the narrow road that led back to the neighborhood. Cara's house was the first in line.

He drummed his fingers against the pole indecisively. She'd told him he'd have to go back to her if he ever wanted tranquilizers. And he wanted. Partly because going home in this state would mean he'd take down his own father and he didn't want to do that. Not yet. Not with Lou there.

So he headed towards Cara's house, across the sun-kissed tar of the road to the pavement lining the head of the neighborhood. He stood in front of the front door, mused if he should go back.

The heel of his foot bounced impatiently against the ground. He knocked on the door. Half a minute only until it swung open and Cara appeared in his face. Only this time, her green eyes seemed glossed over. Had she been crying?

Right now it didn't matter. He needed a tranquilizer. "Tranquilizer."

Cara gradually smiled. She brushed a palm against her cheek then gestured him in. "Come in."

"I don't wanna go in. Just give me the damn thing before I lose my mind—"

"Not here, idiot. They could be watching us." Cara raised her brows, miming at the houses facing them across the road and over his shoulder. "Come in and I'll give you."

He did. When she closed the door behind, she led him to her room. "Why do you want one?"

"Because I'm pissed and I don't know how to stop it. Now stop asking and get me one. If I didn't need it, I wouldn't be here."

"Okay, I'll get you. Have a seat." She turned to her dresser just as he plopped down on her bed, back facing her, defined shoulders leaning forwards. His knee bounced. He bit his thumbnail frantically.

She hadn't even had a chance to open the drawer when he shouted, "How long will it take for you to find the stupid thing!"

Cara glanced back and watched Dom put his head in his hands. Faster breath. She could tell his anger escalated fast and that he desperately needed the pill.

So she stopped and purposely made him wait longer.

When he glanced over his shoulder to check, she quickly whirled around and pretended she'd been busy getting the tranquilizer.

But Dom didn't stop staring. He frowned. A conclusion dawned on him all of a sudden. "Wait." He straightened his posture like someone poked him in the back. "Wait. You told dad that I go to that place? To the garage. How else would he have known?"

"I didn't."

"Yes you did." Dom stood, lunging forwards until he was standing beside her. She didn't even look at him, just continued fiddling with the drawers. "No one knows other than you."

"And the boys that're there? Hello? Why would I do that?"

It frustrated him that she still wasn't glancing at him. He gripped her arm hard and made her face him. Cara pursed her lips, lashes slowly turning upcast until she was glaring at him like he was the one at fault.

"I said I didn't. You're just angry and you want to take it out on me. What would I tell your dad? Hey man I stalked your son to some weird ass place? I wouldn't do that for my own benefit. End of it." She jerked her arm free and pointed to the door. "Don't come asking me for help then start accusing me of stuff like that. Get your ass out of my place if you think I'm a liar."

It was this relentless finality in her voice that was most waking. She'd said the truth in a way. He was angry and he wanted the slightest thing so he'd burst out on someone.

Dom'd been glaring but then his shoulders gradually relaxed. He sighed and rubbed his palm over his face, mumbling in between breaths, "Just hurry and give me the tranquilizer. I told you I can lose my mind."

"I was doing that before you started accusing me." Cara finally brought out a small plastic box. She got out a pill and offered him. "Wait, I'll get you water—"

Dom didn't wait for that. He swallowed it fast then trudged over to her bed and sat on the edge. He pressed his palms on the mattress behind him, leaning his upper body back. "I need to go back home..."

"No." Cara pushed him back as soon as he tried pulling himself upright. "You can't. You're gonna fall asleep halfway through. Plus we don't wanna let your father know I'm giving you tranquilizers. No one can know, got it?"

Dom sighed and leant sideways against the headboard. "Sorry for taking up your bed then." Slow and lazy, he blinked down at his hands, watching his fingers clench and unclench.

Cara didn't understand what was so interesting about his muscular contractions but she just disregarded it. "Should've apologized last time."

Dom opened his mouth but a distant knock on the door cut him off. Cara frowned and mouthed one second then walked out, to the foyer.

When she opened the door, Luciano Alain was standing there. Cara raised a brow, cocking her head to the side.

"Lou? How did you get here?"

"Where's Dom?" he asked, peeking in. "I saw Dom coming here. I wanna see him."

Cara stared at him. She pursed her lips then said, "Come." Holding his hand, she guided him along to the bedroom again. She gently pushed him forward for Dom to see. "Look who's here."

Dom'd been holding his arm against his face. He put it down, narrowing his eyes skeptically when he saw Lou. "Lou? What're you doing here?"

"Come back home, Dom," Lou said. He approached the bed, eyeing Cara not-so-subtly through the corner of his eye, and leant towards Dom's ear. "No confio en ella. Ella da miedo, recuerdas?"

Cara frowned. "Hey, speak English here. What's he saying?"

Dom laughed, but it sounded almost drunken. A few minutes and he'd go down. "That's my boy." He gave Lou's shoulder a playful pat but Lou wasn't remotely amused. Dom looked at Cara. "He's insulting you in Spanish. He doesn't trust you."

"Because you told him that the first time?"

Dom nodded. The satisfied grin on his lips made Cara want to punch it off. "Of course. You're happy that he keeps in mind everything you tell him. Way to controlling your little brother."

Maybe it was the haze of the tranquilizer messing with Dom's perception, but when he looked at her, the expression on her face seemed almost contradictory. Like she was saying something but implying the opposite, reprimanding a thing she in fact supported? Not quite. Maybe. Dom didn't understand.

"I'd call it guidance," Dom corrected.

"Sure—" Cara frowned when yet another knock cut her off this time. She tsked and rolled her eyes then took a step towards the window, straining to peek through the glass at whoever stood at the entrance.

"Who is it now?"

Cara smiled tightly. "Angelica." The spite in her voice was inexplicable to Dom. She caught Lou's hand and pulled him along. "Pretty sure she saw your little brother coming here. Come on, Lou, you gotta go home."

Lou jerked away. "But Dom—"

Dom gave him a look. "Go with Angelica home, Lou. I'll be back soon, I promise."

Lou would argue but Dom was Dom and when he said something it meant there was no way around it. He wordlessly let Cara lead him to the foyer.

As she held the knob, Cara glanced down at Lou. Still so young, so innocent. Now she had a soft spot for him. But he'd grow at some point, then it'd be his turn. Just like Dom.

Cara opened the door. Angelica's expression was worried until she spotted Lou.

"Oh my God, he's here. I saw him crossing the street and I was so worried." Angelica put a hand on her chest and touched Lou's arm with the other. "I'm so sorry, I don't know how he got here. Thank God I saw him."

"Nah, it's fine." Cara's voice was sweet and toxic. A combination she'd mastered. "Dominic is hanging out with me here. That's probably why Lou followed him. Must've seen him or something."

Angelica smiled appreciatively. "It's good to see you and Dom spending time together. He needs friends. Good ones, like you."

Cara knew what she meant with the last part. She opened her mouth, closed it again, then pulled Lou closer to her until one ear was against her abdomen. She covered his other ear gently with her palm and said in a low voice, "Yeah, about that. Thanks for not telling him that I told his dad about it."

"Don't mention it, sweetie. I appreciate that you're looking out for him. His dad had to know about it. Going to a filthy place like that and punching other boys doesn't fix his anger issues."

Cara would say, then do something about his anger issues instead of blaming him for what he does. Except his anger issues made her job easier. So she remained silent.

Lou fought against Cara. He pulled away, looking up at her like she'd murdered his mom. Angelica brought him to her side, chuckling lightly. "He's got a bit of an attitude."

"I don't mind, I love kids."

Angelica smiled a final time and left with Lou then. Smile smile smile. Was there no other gesture? Cara closed the door and went back to her room, only to realize that Dom had fallen asleep.

Cara sat at the edge of the bed, right by his side, green eyes on him. She bit her bottom lip contemplatively then reached out to Dom's waistband. His hip beneath was strong and sculpted but that wasn't her interest. Her fingers daintily felt around his pockets until she went over a small bump. She pulled out his wallet.

She made a face when she peeked at the money stacked in. "Look at all this money wasted on idiots like you," she mumbled and tucked it back in his pocket, glancing at his face with an eye of cunning manipulation. She wouldn't steal. All this would be hers at some point anyway. Her plans never failed. He needed her just as much as she needed him, so it was a win-win, right?

She stared at him in his sleep, at how much she needed him. A bit altered, but him nonetheless. She thought about what she had in mind, of the endless possibilities of a brighter future, secluded with her family. Subconsciously, she touched her lower stomach, her womb, where a baby would never grow. It hurt to be different. But it was a good thing alternatives existed. Good thing people like Dom existed.

What kind of other person would stay with her if not him anyway?

Cara kept thinking. Dom woke up again in about an hour maybe; she'd lost track midst her musings.

He blinked against the light and slowly sat up, rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm. He leant his upper back against the headboard. When he caught sight of Cara, he frowned like he'd forgotten about her existence for a moment.

"That wasn't too long. I thought you'd sleep longer."

"Yeah." Dom sighed, running one hand through his hair whilst arching his spine forwards. He stopped and turned to look at Cara. Silence settled for a few minutes as Dom gathered his conscious mind again. Then he said, "Why are you helping me?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, why do you just give me the tranquilizers like that? What do you want?"

"Nothing. What would I want?" The way she smiled at him, pink lips curling at both edges, was almost cynical. Like every word she said was driven by a motive further than what Dom could see right now. "I don't mind helping someone I understand."

Dom remembered the first time they'd met, the second time, then this. She'd gotten a bit more mellow with each encounter. Harsh to caring to soft. Why?

"Look, I know that I seem hostile sometimes but I'm really just like you. I know what it feels like to be judged about something you can't control."

Dom's eyes softened slightly. How could he blame her for previous hostility when he was the same? And how could he—

Dom only realized he'd gotten distracted when he felt something touch him. Cara had put a hand on his thigh, soft and gentle yet taunting. He stared at it for a second, then back at her.

Cara kept her eyes implicitly on him and in the process saw the conflict on his face, how a single touch from her could mess him up. "What's wrong?" she asked, lips barely parting, velvety voice low and level.

Dom didn't know why but right now his mind was making up weird scenarios. Sitting on her bed, her hand on his thigh, him still lethargic and weighed down by the effect of the tranquilizer—something wasn't quite right. And the fact that everyone knew what Cara's mom had been like...

Yet he stayed calm. Just stared at her cautiously. Maybe he was overthinking, maybe the drugs really messed with his head. Dom noticed her eyes inch a bit lower, now cast at his mouth. Then she started leaning in, closer, then closer—

Dom pushed her off and tilted his face away. "What are you doing?" he asked, voice flat and unwelcoming. Suddenly, he wasn't the barely-conscious and drug-dependent guy.

"What?"

"What do you mean what? You were about—"

Cara cut him off with an obnoxiously pitched laugh. She threw her head back then clapped once and focused on him again. "You thought I was going to kiss you, didn't you? Why would I do that? There was this on your collar—" she picked at a knotty frayed thread off his collar "—I thought it was a bug or something. I didn't wanna freak you out."

Dom watched as the thread landed on the floor. He blinked. In another case, facing another person, he probably would've said: don't touch my thigh and stare at my mouth and expect me to assume you're looking at a bug.

But this was Cara, and she effortlessly kept him out of equilibrium, which was really just a mishap of a place he liked to call equilibrium but in fact was the furthest from that. "Oh. I... Uh, kinda... I just was kinda confused. Nevermind."

"You're a hypocrite, Dominic."

Unnecessary but Dom ignored it. "Just forget about it. I kinda took a tranquilizer, it messes with your head—"

"You hate that people judge you for your anger issues, but here you are, first accusing me of telling your dad on you and now you think I'd kiss you out of nowhere because my mom was—"

"No! No. Just cut it out. That's not what I meant." Dominic caught her arm and forced her back in place when she tried to move. "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to judge you like that."

They stared at each other, Dom at Cara's vague peculiarity and Cara at Dom's weakness. So easy to play with. Cara finally broke the tension with a hint of a smile.

"It's okay." Cara tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, shrugging one shoulder nonchalantly. "It's fine, really. I forgive you. I kinda overreacted because that's, um, a bitter subject."

Dom only supplied silence. Cara continued, as if trying to goad a reaction, an emotion, "Some people used to say I'm disgusting. Because I'm mom's daughter and it automatically means I'm like her." She looked at him through her lashes. Sympathize with me.

It worked. Dom said, "That's awful. People are. They never understand. They don't understand that my anger is something I literally can't control. At my mom's funeral, I snapped because everyone was telling me it's okay and can you believe these idiots still hold it against me?"

Cara's fingers brushed lightly by his hand. Dom didn't cooperate and hold hers, maybe didn't even notice. "Yeah, I get you. You're just misunderstood. We both are."

It ended there. Inadequate but an initiation nonetheless. The peaceful silence was a form of success, at least for Cara.

Dom stood up. "I should just go home now. Lou's waiting."

Cara stood as well. "Wanna hang out sometime?"

"Huh?"

"Hang out. The thing that friends do."

"I... I don't—"

"Aren't we friends?"

"No. Yes? I don't know."

"Wait, so you don't consider me a friend? You just come over to use me? Take tranquilizers and leave?"

The way she said it made Dom feel like an asshole. And he was. But now, standing in front of the only person to ever talk to him like he wasn't a monster, he felt flustered. "No, that's not what I meant. I appreciate your help," Dom said.

"So, friends." She put her hand out. When he hesitated, she forcibly yet gently reached out to shake his hand. On her part, it was a contract, a promise she wouldn't let him back out of. She wouldn't have to anyway. "We'll go wherever you want. Anywhere you're calm."

"That means somewhere where there's no one. People piss me off."

"Cool. Friday, in the woods. We'll just walk around and breathe some fresh air."

"...I guess."

Dom didn't realize that when their fingers parted, Cara left something on him. Slowly, slowly, a puppet in the making. Wrists tied, now for the ankles. Cara grinned but it wasn't vain.

If she'd lay out her plans in stages, this would've been the beginning of stage two: friendship. After that would come the final stage: destroy him.

*_*_*_*_*

hey it's been ages but i'm here again! this chap must've been hella stressful for you bc Cara is confusing af. If u have any theories about what she has in mind/what she wants from Dom, throw them at me. i love reading them <3

Thank you so much for reading/voting/commenting. It means a lot <33