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I roll over in bed and look at the clock on the nightstand. Nine in the morning. I have no cell phone, no clothes, no sense of self at all. Sleep evaded me throughout the night, but when it did come, it came with nothing but nightmares of Gabriel Jr.
His eyes rolling back. The blood spurting from his mouth.
A faint knock comes from the door, and I sit up, wrapping the white comforter around my body.
The moment he steps in, I know something is wrong.
Somehow more wrong than before.
I don’t even know where the edges of wrong and right blend together anymore, but the look on his face is more than enough to clue me in.
I haven’t known Dante DeSantis long, but he’s not as tough of a read as he’d like to be.
“I’m sorry I left you,” he says, stripping out of his clothes from last night until he’s only in his boxer briefs.
My eyes are automatically drawn to his abs. The sharp edges and valleys of his muscles contort and flex with each movement. His olive skin only enhances how cut he looks, his muscular frame seeming to have not even an ounce of fat on it.
“Had business to take care of. I assure you, I had extra men posted everywhere. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”
Memories of yesterday come flooding back like a nightmare I can’t wake up from. Blades piercing delicate flesh. The scent of blood and death. Survival, but at what cost?
“It’s not even about being in danger. It’s about being whisked away and left alone in a house. I don’t even know where the damn kitchen is. I refuse to be shut out, Dante. I’m not going to live like my mother and be a bystander in my own life,” I say more confidently than I feel.
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know, angel.” He tries to force a smile, but there’s exhaustion on his face. He gulps down whatever anxiety he’s currently feeling and licks at his bottom lip before scrubbing his hand over his face. “There hasn’t exactly been much time. My family needed me last night. I’m a capo, Giana. I have men who I lead and also people I answer to. This is not only a job for me. It’s my life, my livelihood.”
I know that the mafia comes first to every made man. I don’t need it explained like I’m an idiot.
“What are we going to do, Dante? How are we going to get out of this? We’ve just pissed off so many people, and I feel like we need a plan. Why come for me and then leave me wondering what the hell is happening?”
These are arguably some of the most important questions in my arsenal.
He draws in a long breath before exhaling and taking my hands in his own. His rough, calloused thumbs stroke the backs of my hands, and a small fire stokes to life inside my chest. I want to be angry, to throw water on the flames that are kick-starting these feelings for him, but part of me understands, too. Even though I hate it.
“Let me and my men figure that out. You don’t need to worry about it. I will protect you.”
I sigh. I don’t like that answer.
“I’m not a man who is good with words. Or feelings, for that matter. But I told you this… I am drawn to you like I have never been drawn to someone else in my life. It’s…” He falters and searches my face as he thinks. “It’s as if there’s this force field between us, like you, your body, your mind… You’re magnetic. You are light and pure, and I’m nothing but darkness, but I am so compelled to be near you that if I’m not, I think I might go fucking crazy.” He pauses, and then says, “Sei la cosa più belle che mi sia mai capitata. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Giana.”
I squeeze his hands in understanding, knowing what he means because I wanted to be near him the moment I was pulled away from him the night I shot my brother. The night Ikilledmy brother.
As I was kicking and screaming and trying to break free from the grasp of the man who took me from the club, all I could think about was that swelling ache of mine. The one that begged me to go back to him, to find him, and to press my body against his again, even if just to feel weightless for one more moment, like I did in his arms.
But it doesn’t answer my question. It doesn’t tell me we’ll make it through this.
“I came for you because Ifeelwhen I’m with you. I’m not the monster dead set on revenge. I’m not stalking my prey and dying for a taste of the blood of my enemies. I’m not chasing a high that’s unattainable or on this fucked-up quest that I know will never bring back the women I love.” His words fade out as he lets go of my hands and clasps his own together, bringing them to his lips as if he’s saying a silent prayer.
“If I tried to explain this to anyone else in the world, I don’t know if they’d understand it. Do you know when you read stories? And there are two people, and they find each other, and they just click. There’s a feeling that passes between the two of them like…this is what I’ve been missing. This spark of electricity that ignites you and energizes you and makes you believe again. Believe in what, I don’t know. God? Heaven? Hell? Doesn’t fucking matter. You just believe in something, and that kind of shit gives you power.”
I look down at my hands in my lap, palms up, exactly how he’s left me. My body trembles with shot nerves and the aftermath of adrenaline, and I look back to him as he stares so deeply into my eyes that small fire bursts into ravenous flames.
“You, for me? You’re like the part in a love story where the man looks at his life and thinks, damn…I don’t wanna picture this shit with anyone but her.” Dante smiles at me, and his words put me in a choke hold. “And so it’s simple. I came for you because I don’t wanna miss you in the end. When all of this is over, when it’s all said and done, you’re not something I want to miss.
“I’ve got a long list of things I regret, and I’m not willing to let you be one of them. I need you right here, next to me, like I need my next fucking breath. And maybe none of this is coming out right. Maybe I sound like I’m talking in fucking riddles or something because hell, words aren’t good enough to describe what I feel for you.Sono pazzo di te,”he says. “I’m crazy about you.”
I breathe in his aftershave as it wafts over me, and I savor his scent while it encases me, making me forget the magnitude of the hurt over the past two weeks.
“I’m going to keep you safe even if it’s the last fucking thing I do. And I can tell by the look on your face it isn’t enough. That you won’t let me out of this, and that you’re already planning on how you can scheme your way into any future plans I have to protect you.”
