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“The girl will be next, and this job will be over. But we’re gonna have a little fun with her first. Wish I could take a little more time with you too, but again, you know how this works. Time equals money and all that. I can’t spend too much time enjoying myself.”
A deeply disturbing grin stretched his lips wide and before Dante could react, the asshole pulled the trigger. A dim flash was followed by pain that Dante imagined was close to what it felt like being slammed directly in the chest with a sledgehammer. Clutching his vest, Dante fell to the ground, squeezing his eyes shut against the throb of agony each breath caused, but not before he spotted a looming form behind the shooter.
“I think you made a mistake,” he managed to whisper.
FIFTEEN
André
“You’re going to the hospital,” André informed Dante.
Dante scowled and started to sit up.
“Fuck no, I am not,” he groaned, easing himself back down on the slicker protecting him from the soggy ground.
“Told you so.”
“Nobody likes a told-you-so. I amnotgoing to the hospital. I’m fine. It just fucking hurts.”
“Too fucking bad. I was shot while wearing a vest a couple of years ago. I had a bruise the size of my hand for weeks. You could have internal damage.”
Arguing with Dante was obviously their love language. Arguing meant they were both alive. It so easily could have been different. They’d only just found each other. Sappy? Yes. True? Also, yes.
They’d only just found each other. André would willingly crouch in the pouring rain and argue with Dante for hours. But he wished Dante would agree to get checked out.
“I don’t have internal damage. There’s going to be a big fucking bruise, but I’m fine.”
André allowed himself to crack a smile at Dante. He was soaking wet and filthy. His hair was plastered to his head. But his bright blue eyes blazed with determination and intelligence.
He was alive.
This situation was one of the least romantic André could possibly think of—except maybe the dentist’s office—for what he was about to say. But it needed to be said.Heneeded to say it. He wasn’t inviting trouble, but he had no idea what the next days would bring them.
“Dante.”
“I am not going to the fucking hospital,” Dante repeated.
Deputy Cooper was fifty feet away talking to a neighbor—because André wasn’t above begging, and Lani had easily agreed to come in. God knew where Morrison was—ah, André’s gaze found him. At the moment, he was leaning into the passenger window of the Taurus, likely talking to Dani.
“You are stubborn as a mule,” André said, bringing his attention back to Dante and shaking his head. “Or maybe a camel. I’ve heard they’re worse. Look, I get it, you’re not going to the hospital. I wouldn’t want to go either. That’s not what I was going to say.”
“Oh. What, then?”
Dante began to ease himself upward again, much slower this time. André slipped a hand around his back for an assist.
“This may seem weird but—” André shifted and huffed out a breath, not really sure how to say what he wanted to say.Might as well just spit it out. “Don’t die on me tonight. I think—” Fuck, this was difficult. He’d never told a man he loved them before, but he was pretty sure he could do it a bit nicer. “I think I could be falling for you, Dante Castone, and I would very much appreciate you not dying as I have waited a very fucking long time for this.”
Not eloquent, but he’d done it.
In spite of the pain he had to be in, a grin flashed across Dante’s lips.
“You think, huh?”
“Yeah,” André admitted, wishing he could kiss Dante right now. “Pretty damn sure.”
The grin widened. “So, you’d be okay with me and Daniella sticking around after this shitstorm passes?”
Lightning flashed again, but further away this time, and the sky rumbled.
