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He grins without answering, and I snort back a laugh, looking away again before the piercing green of his eyes can suck me in.
I take another drink, actually tasting it this time. It’s good, much better than the bottle we shared back at Club M, and when I tell Dante so, he grins.
“I like nice things every once in a while,” he says, his eyes heating up as I take another sip and savor it. He lets that vibrant green gaze of his drift lazily down to my mouth, then lower, watching my throat as I swallow.
“That shit was stupid at the club last night,” he murmurs gently.
I look away. “I know.”
“Coulda gone really bad.”
I glare at him, the concern in his voice threatening all that inner strength he was just praising. “Iknow. I just… I saw someone grab Chloe. What did you expect? I can’t just let that happen.”
Dante’s big hand wraps around the back of my neck, squeezing just enough to ground me against the wave of emotions rising up inside me. “Breathe, princess. I get it. But it was still stupid, and you can’t be. Not around all of this. Not if you’re gonna survive it.”
The gangs, he means. This life. This world. And he’s right, but that’s the whole problem.
I was never supposed to let Chloe near them.
I was supposed to protect her.
“I just snapped,” I admit, squeezing my eyes closed as memories slam into me. Not just of last night, but of the first time I ever saw her, looking no bigger than a pink-wrapped burrito when they brought her home from the hospital. Tiny, perfect, and as fragile-looking as the delicate set of china our mom used to have before Frank broke it.
“You love the fuck out of her,” Dante notes, giving the back of my neck one more reassuring squeeze before sitting back. “Anyone can see that.”
I sigh, opening my eyes. “She’s my best friend. She just turned eighteen. I’m seven years older than her, so maybe it sounds weird that we’re so close, but we’ve always been that way. Maybe because it’s always been just the two of us.”
“How old were you when your mom died?”
“Ten. Chloe was three. Too young to understand what any of it meant, really.” I clear my throat. “I’d always looked out for her, but from that point on, I was part mother, part sister to her. I tried to live up to what our mom would’ve done, but I don’t know if I ever succeeded in that.”
I finish off my whiskey in a single swallow before holding out my glass for more. Dante obliges, and I take another sip before continuing.
“There was this old movie our mom was obsessed with for some reason,” I say, deciding to focus on a happier memory. “We had it on DVD when we were kids, and she’d watch it over and over and over.Whip It. Have you seen it? It’s about roller derby.”
“Don’t think so. Should I?”
“No, it doesn’t matter,” I say, grinning at the interest that lights in his eyes. “It’s not even that good. But still, Chloe and I must have watched it a million times when we were kids.” I flip my hair and lisp like Maggie Mayhem. “Put some skates on. Be your own hero.”
He gives me a blank look at the quote, and I roll my eyes at him.
“So after I started stripping and actually had a little money,” I go on, “I bought us each a pair of roller skates at this secondhand shop over on Miller and Tenth.”
Dante nods. “Seventeenth Street territory.”
I shrug. I’ve never heard of them, but I assume he means another gang. “Anyway, the first time we try out our new skates, Chloe goes all Babe Ruthless, bites it hard, and knocks out her front tooth.”
He winces, and I don’t blame him. There was blood.Somuch blood.
“So, that sucked,” I say, which makes him laugh, a deep, warm sound that makes my stomach flutter. “But then, when I take her in to get it fixed, they give her those drugs they use for wisdom teeth, you know?”
“I’ve seen some videos,” he says, arching a brow. “Did she think there was a zombie apocalypse? Decide she was a unicorn?”
I grin. “Nope. We were both superheroes, and she was totally paranoid that someone would find out my secret identity since I’d forgotten my mask. Every time one of the nurses came into the room to check on her, she’d put her hand in front of my face to try to hide me.”
“What about her? Didn’t she need a mask?”
I shake my head, smiling at the memory. “Nope. Her superpower was going invisible.”
