Chapter 9 : storms in the garage
1121 Words
The metallic thunk of Dominic’s palm hitting the sports car roof echoed through the underground garage like a gunshot.
“She’s not going with you,” he growled, voice sharp enough to slice through the roar of rain outside.
Nate froze halfway into the driver’s seat, his blond hair slightly damp from the drizzle that had followed him in. He leaned back, one elbow draped over the steering wheel, smirking like he had just been handed his favorite form of entertainment.
“Since when do you get to decide who I take home?” Nate asked, tone dripping with mockery. “Last time I checked, Clarke doesn’t belong to you.”
Dominic’s jaw flexed. “She’s under my supervision. And you—” his gaze raked over Nate with visible disdain—“don’t have the best track record when it comes to respecting boundaries.”
“Boundaries?” Nate scoffed, stepping out of the car fully now, standing toe-to-toe with his older brother. “You’ve got some nerve throwing that word around. You barely know her. You’re just pissed because she’d rather ride with me than take orders from you.”
Aria sat frozen in the passenger seat, her bag clutched to her chest. The sleek leather interior felt suddenly claustrophobic, the air charged with the same electric tension that crackled in the storm outside.
Dominic’s eyes flicked toward her briefly—sharp, assessing—before locking back on Nate. “Get out of the way.”
“Why? You gonna drag her out yourself?” Nate challenged, his grin widening, daring him.
Dominic didn’t answer. He just stepped closer, the muscles in his shoulders coiling tight, the veins in his forearms standing out as his fists curled at his sides.
“Guys—” Aria started, her voice low, hoping to defuse whatever powder keg she was sitting in.
Neither of them heard her.
Nate tipped his chin up, still smirking. “You know, Dom, you’ve got this whole ‘angry alpha’ thing down. But here’s the thing—sometimes people actually want to spend time with me.”
And that was it.
Dominic’s hand shot out, gripping Nate by the collar and shoving him back against the car with a force that made the frame shudder.
The sound made Aria flinch, her stomach flipping—not from fear of Dominic, but from the sudden rush of nausea that punched her in the gut.
Her hands flew to her middle, gripping tight as a cold sweat broke across her forehead.
“Dominic—stop!” she managed to choke out, her voice tighter than she meant.
Nate shoved back, laughing in that infuriating, reckless way of his. “There it is! The famous Thorne temper. Careful, Dom. The cameras in this garage are everywhere.”
“Say another word,” Dominic warned, his voice low and lethal, “and I won’t care who’s watching.”
Aria shifted in her seat, the movement making her dizzy. Her vision blurred at the edges, and she took a sharp breath through her nose to steady herself.
But the argument in front of her was a furnace, and she was stuck right in the flames.
“Let go of me,” Nate hissed, shoving Dominic’s chest.
“Make me.”
The push turned into a shove, and in seconds, the brothers were grappling, shoving each other back and forth in the narrow space between the two cars. Dominic was stronger, but Nate was quicker, ducking out of one hold and landing a shove that made Dominic stumble half a step.
It was ridiculous. Dangerous. And the sound of their grunts and shoes scraping the concrete echoed in the cavernous garage.
Aria finally forced herself to swing her legs out of the car, the movement making her head swim. “Stop it! Both of you!” she snapped, her voice louder this time.
Dominic turned at the sound—just for a second—but it was enough for Nate to break free.
“You’re unbelievable,” Nate said, brushing off his shirt. “You think you can control everyone around you, but newsflash—people aren’t your employees.”
Dominic ignored him, his focus locking entirely on Aria now. “You’re pale. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she said too quickly, shaking her head.
“You don’t look fine.” He stepped toward her, closing the space like a predator closing in on prey. “Is this why you nearly fainted before? Is this… something I should know about? , please just be sincere this time”
Her pulse kicked into overdrive. She could feel Nate’s eyes darting between them, intrigued, but she couldn’t let either of them see through her right now.
“I’m not pregnant,” she said flatly before he could even ask the question.
The words hung in the air, heavy and defensive, and Dominic’s brow furrowed.
“You’ve said that before,” he said slowly, his tone dark with suspicion. “But interesting choice of words.”
She straightened, even though her knees felt like they might give out. “You’re reading too much into it. I’m just tired. And I’m not going with you.”
“You’re not going with him either,” Dominic countered, jerking his head toward Nate.
Nate crossed his arms. “Pretty sure Clarke can decide for herself.”
Dominic’s patience snapped. He moved faster than she expected, catching her wrist—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make it clear he wasn’t letting her walk away. “If you’re sick, you should be resting. Not running around with my i***t brother.”
Something in her snapped right back. She yanked her hand free, her voice icy. “I said I’m fine. And you don’t get to dictate my choices.”
The air between them was a wire pulled so tight it could snap any second.
Nate, of course, couldn’t resist making it worse. “Ouch. Looks like the lady picked her own driver after all.”
Dominic’s glare cut to him. “If she gets in that car with you, Nate, you’ll regret it.”
The rain hammered harder outside, the sound filling the silence as Aria hesitated. She could feel Dominic’s stare, heavy with unspoken questions. She could feel Nate’s easy smirk, waiting for her to pick a side.
Her stomach turned again, sharper this time, and she pressed a hand to it without thinking.
Dominic saw. His eyes narrowed. “Clarke—”
“Don’t,” she warned, her tone sharper than she meant.
The tension was so thick she could barely breathe. The storm outside was nothing compared to the one brewing here in the garage.
- Writer
