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Nico knows when something smells fishy, and this smells like high tide.
14
MIA
Iwake up at daylight and something feels off. The house feels strangely empty, and I peer out the window and see that Dante’s daily driver isn’t in the garage.
I get up and go downstairs to see if Marta is up yet. When I don’t see her, or anyone else for that matter. I sit down on the couch and put my head in my hands. After that dream (nightmare) I had, I don’t know what to think about Dante being out all night.
I know he probably has work backed up, but all night long?
As I sit there, thinking I should make myself a glass of water for my hangover, Dante comes stumbling in the door.
I look up at him, glaring at him.
“It’s fucking seven in the morning, Dante. Where have you been?”
“Working,” he mumbles, throwing his keys on the counter.
“Don’t you think you could have called?”
“You were passed out drunk. Didn’t think you’d care,” he snapped. “Don’t bite my head off just because you’re hungover, princess.”
I seethe. I hate being called princess because it suggests that I’m spoiled. Maybe I am, but Dante doesn’t have to say it. Besides, I’ve been worried all night.
“Were you with someone else?” I ask softly, and Dante scoffs.
“I’m getting real tired of this argument, Mia,” he says roughly, heading up the stairs without even looking at me. “I had a long night.”
“I bet you did,” I mutter, following him up the stairs, but instead of arguing with me, he just shuts the bedroom door in my face.
I want to scream. I stalk back downstairs to see if Nico has returned and he hasn’t. That’s it. I’m taking my car and getting the hell out of here.
I text Marta to let her know to meet me at the local coffee shop. It’s only a few blocks down the road, one of those upscale ones with coffee milkshakes.
Once I’m behind the wheel of my car, I realize that I shouldn’t be driving. I still feel dizzy and nauseous and I’m probably still under the influence. I groan and get out, deciding to walk. I put on my running shoes and take off, walking fast because I’m angry.
I know that the nightmare I had is probably affecting me and that’s why I’d been so worried about Dante being with someone else. I just can’t stand the idea of it, and it’s driving me crazy.
As I’m walking, a sportscar pulls up next to me and a man hangs his head out the window.
“Hey, sexy,” he calls, and I roll my eyes, walking faster.
I hate being catcalled, but it’s something I’ve dealt with several times while walking alone. I ignore the car completely.
“Don’t ignore me, gorgeous,” the guy drawls, moving the car closer to me and I step further off the sidewalk.
“Leave me alone,” I mutter, taking my purse and holding it. There’s mace in there, and I’ll use it if I have to.
I’ve used it before, and I can take care of myself. My father always told me to be prepared, and I am.
I pull out my phone and call Marta. She doesn’t answer.
“Pick up, pick up,” I whisper, and finally she does.
“Hello?” her voice sounds cracked and hoarse.
“Marta,” I say quickly and loudly, so that the guy knows someone is on the other line. I keep looking to the cars driving by him but no one seems to care.
