Chapter 6 - The Morning He Finally Slept Without Fear
The first morning after Caleb Mercer left the Moretti estate in handcuffs, Dominic woke at 6:43 a.m.
Sunlight filled the bedroom.
For several seconds he did not understand what was wrong.
Then he realized.
Nothing was wrong.
He had slept.
No convulsions.
No waking on the carpet.
No bruises.
No terrified servants pretending not to hear him.
Just sleep.
He sat on the edge of the bed.
The bedroom door stood open.
For four years, he had locked it before midnight.
Now the deadbolt remained untouched.
A chair sat beside the window.
Penny was asleep in it.
Her boots were still on.
Her father’s wrench lay across her lap.
Dominic watched her.
At some point during the night, she had refused the guest room.
She claimed she needed to make sure the damaged exterior circuit remained isolated.
Dominic knew enough about her by then to recognize a lie.
She had stayed because she did not trust the darkness yet.
Neither did he.
Penny opened one eye.
“You staring at me?”
“No.”
“You’re terrible at lying.”
“So I’ve been told.”
She sat up.
“What time is it?”
“Six forty-five.”
Her face changed.
“That’s good.”
Dominic nodded.
“Yes.”
She smiled.
Not dramatically.
Not like someone in a movie realizing the battle had been won.
Just a tired little smile.
And somehow that affected him more.
“Coffee?” she asked.
“You’re in my bedroom.”
“That wasn’t an answer.”
“Yes.”
“Good. You look like a man who owns a five-million-dollar espresso machine and has no idea how to use it.”
“It cost twelve thousand.”
Penny stared.
“You spent twelve grand on a coffee machine?”
“I didn’t.”
“Thank God.”
“The chef did.”
Penny shook her head.
“Rich people are exhausting.”
Downstairs, breakfast stopped when Penny entered.
Every member of the household knew what had happened.
Every guard knew she had escaped confinement, crossed an exposed courtyard and climbed a metal ladder to destroy the second relay.
Everybody also knew Dominic had walked down the stairs completely alert at 1:00 a.m.
No seizure.
No weakness.
The myth surrounding the previous four years had collapsed overnight.
Dominic sat at the head of the table.
Penny remained standing.
“What?”
He gestured to the chair beside him.
“You eat here.”
She glanced around.
“I can eat in the kitchen.”
“You eat where I eat.”
“Still doing the ordering thing?”
“Yes.”
Penny dropped into the chair.
A captain across the table looked at her with obvious displeasure.
Penny caught him staring.
“What?”
He looked away.
“No, go ahead,” Penny said. “I’ve had a difficult week. I could use entertainment.”
Dominic drank his coffee.
The captain concentrated intensely on his eggs.
A housekeeper placed a plate in front of Penny.
Dominic reached beneath the table and produced her father’s wrench.
He placed it beside the plate.
Penny stared at it.
“You kept it.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought you were coming back.”
“You locked me in a gatehouse.”
“I needed Mercer to believe I doubted you.”
“You could’ve warned me.”
“I could have.”
“You didn’t.”
“No.”
“That makes you an ass.”
The captain choked on his coffee.
Dominic calmly cut into his eggs.
“Probably.”
Penny picked up the wrench.
Her thumb moved across the worn steel where her father’s hand had polished the handle over three decades.
For some reason, that was when emotion finally caught her.
Not while breaking the bedroom door.
Not while Mercer pointed a gun at her.
Not while she was locked up.
Now.
At breakfast.
Holding an old wrench.
She cleared her throat.
“I should leave.”
The room went quiet.
Dominic looked at her.
“The van needs an oil change,” Penny continued. “I have customers. People who probably hate me by now. And unless your organization is planning to start paying my mortgage—”
“It is.”
“No.”
“That was a joke.”
“You don’t look like somebody who jokes.”
“I’m learning.”
Penny looked down at her plate.
Dominic said, “Your invoice has been paid.”
“Fine.”
“All outstanding business debt has been cleared.”
Her head snapped up.
“You did what?”
“You heard me.”
“No.”
“Penny—”
“No. Reverse it.”
“You nearly died twice because of something happening in my house.”
“That doesn’t mean you buy my life.”
“I did not buy your life.”
“You paid my debts without asking.”
Dominic held her gaze.
“You saved mine without asking.”
“That’s different.”
“Explain.”
Penny opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Dominic leaned back.
“You may leave whenever you want.”
She studied him.
“No guards?”
“No.”
“No surveillance?”
“No.”
“No one following my van?”
He glanced toward one captain.
The captain immediately looked at the ceiling.
Dominic said, “No.”
Penny almost smiled.
“And Mercer?”
“In federal custody. His attorney has been informed that the evidence is real.”
“He’ll talk.”
“Yes.”
“About you too.”
“Yes.”
That answer surprised her.
“You’re not worried?”
Dominic looked out the window.
“I have spent too much of my life believing control and safety were the same thing.”
Penny said nothing.
He continued.
“Mercer knew that. He didn’t invent my worst weakness. He used one I already had.”
“The seizures?”
“The shame.”
Penny’s expression softened.
Dominic looked around the table.
“I ordered everyone away because I could not bear being seen helpless.”
Several staff members lowered their eyes.
“That gave him four years of privacy to hurt me.”
Dominic stood.
“So that rule ends today.”
He looked toward the guards.
“No locked bedroom after midnight. No punishment for calling for medical help. No man in this house follows an order that requires him to stand outside while someone may be dying.”
The guards nodded.
Dominic looked at Penny.
“Better?”
“A little.”
She finished her coffee.
Then stood.
“I’m still leaving.”
Dominic’s expression remained unreadable.
Penny picked up her wrench.
She walked toward the hallway.
Everyone watched.
She reached the staircase.
Stopped.
Looked at the wall.
Then at the electrical outlet beside it.
Penny frowned.
She pulled a small tester from her pocket, crouched and checked it.
“What now?” Dominic asked.
She looked over her shoulder.
“This outlet isn’t grounded.”
“You’re leaving.”
“I am.”
She stood and looked toward the ceiling fixture.
“That chandelier is also wired like it survived three divorces and a prohibition raid.”
Dominic folded his arms.
“Penny.”
“And the south hall panel is overloaded.”
“Penny.”
“Your kitchen has aluminum branch wiring.”
“You said you were leaving.”
“I said I should leave.”
The cook smiled.
Penny pointed her wrench at Dominic.
“Your electrical system is forty years old.”
“That concerns you?”
“Your electrician just got your security chief arrested.”
One of the maids laughed.
Then stopped immediately.
Dominic looked around the house.
“What are you suggesting?”
Penny set her tool bag at the foot of the staircase.
“That I finish the job.”
Something in Dominic’s face finally gave.
The hard line around his mouth softened.
“You’re staying?”
“Temporarily.”
“How temporary?”
“Until this house stops trying to kill people.”
Dominic glanced toward the old wiring.
May you like
“That may take years.”
“Then you better make good coffee.”
