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Rayne sticks her head around the doorway to the guest room, where I stayed when I first got rescued.
“Is everything okay? You sounded upset.”
“I am upset!” I say, throwing my phone down on the bed. “Dante is being all cool and calm about being shot, and I’m here like a cat on hot bricks going out of my mind.”
She smiles softly, coming further into the room carrying a cup of tea. “I told you he was okay. They had business to deal with, which is why he couldn't answer right away.”
“Meaning, bad shit.”
I gratefully take the mug from her, sitting cross-legged on the bed.
“Meaning bad shit, yes. But he’s okay, Mia. That’s the most important thing.”
I know she thinks I’m whiny and needy, but this is my first experience with Dante being really hurt. It’s terrifying.
I recognize that I’m triggered, but I am scheduling an appointment to see Josie again this week to talk. I think I need to. I have so much anxiety around Dante being hurt, and I don’t want to run from my problems, mental or otherwise.
I’ve come so far that I’m not going to switch back to my old habits.
I nod. “I know. I know…I was just so worried.”
She gives me a one-armed hug as I hold my tea, being careful not to burn me, as she keeps it around my shoulders. “He’s a good man, Mia. They all are. Keeping our city safe, they got one of their men…one of the guards who was there…”
I freeze. “They did?”
She nods. “Nobody gets away with hurting you,” she whispers. “Nobody.”
I swallow hard. I know this has to be done.
There is no real justice without vigilantism; that much I’ve learned in the last six months. The Medicis are just that; vigilantes who have it under control.
I know that deep down in my heart, they do keep this city safe and everyone in it.
And Dante…well, I have no words for him, just how wonderful he is and how much he means to me.
I knew right from the start.
“I love him,” I whisper.
She nods. “I know.”
“If anything were to happen, I don’t know what I’d do…”
“He’s fine. They all are,” my sister whispers. “And you freaking out isn’t going to help your stress levels, or Dante’s.”
I know she’s right. Dante is okay, but that doesn’t make any of this any more bearable.
She shifts slightly when her phone dings and her eyes meet mine. “They’re here.”
My eyes light up. I take a few seconds to register, then placing my cup on the bedside table, I start for the door. Forgetting myself, I charge down the hall. Taking the stairs two at a time to the front door, and bursting through it as I run towards the parking cars.
Dante steps out of the second vehicle, his shoulder bandaged and blood all over his shirt, but I don’t care. He sees me and moves towards me quickly. My legs can’t move fast enough as I careen towards him, crashing into his body as our lips meet.
I wrap myself around him as he lifts me up, using his good arm to hold me. I sag into his chest, his warm comfort washing over me as we kiss like we have been apart for an eternity.
I pull back. “Your shoulder,” I whisper. “You shouldn’t be lifting me.”
“I’ll manage.”
