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21
THE PAST
Ihear Dante’s car as he returns, and I haven’t decided whether or not I’m going to tell him about my realization. It doesn’t help that my head is still muddy from the drug, and I haven’t left my bed.
I must decide quickly if I want to include them in my plan. I really can’t say I trust any of them completely, nor can they really trust me.
However, I need to embrace hope and faith. I need to change my narrative. I have been stuck in a loop of distrust, and the untrustworthy have shown up to answer that call.
What if I believe in someone?
Dante knocks, and I call him inside.
“Hey.” Dante offers me a smoothie. “It probably isn’t the tastiest thing, but Greta told me it’s packed with nutrients to help with almost any ailment.”
“Thanks.” I take a sip, and it’s not that bad—green and pungent—but I probably wouldn’t drink it again on purpose.
Dante hangs his head. “I’m sorry for the drugged interrogation. I’m sorry I’ve been pressuring you into something with me. It isn’t cool.”
My eyes widen a bit. “Why the change of heart?”
“You mean about us?” I nod, and he explains, “It isn’t a change of heart, but I realized you might not like me like that.”
I chuckle.
“What’s so funny?” Dante appears confused.
“It never occurred to you before that someone wouldn’t want to bone you?” I ask with a smile.
“Come on, it’s not like that. I don’t just want to fuck around, and I’m notthatarrogant.” He sits down on the edge of the bed next to my knees. “You did nickname me Hot-as-sin in your mind. I took that as a sign of attraction.”
“That was supposed to be a private thought,” I mutter, then I turn serious, remembering the book I just read. I must change my tactics. I need to be honest with myself and Dante. “I think you are extremely attractive, but I believe you’re way too far out of my league on an attractiveness scale.” He goes to protests, but I stop him. “I’ve had some horrible relationships, if you could even call them that. Some guys have forced themselves on me, and I’ve had some hit me. The last one? I didn’t even want to be with him at all, but he threatened me because he wanted to use my powers for his own gain against my will. He kept me prisoner. Fortunately, I was smarter than him. Then I stole a shit ton of his money—mostly gained by use of my gifts, I might add—and I escaped. That’s when Karma found me.”
“Whoa.” Dante’s mouth drops open. “That’s why that thug came after you?”
“Yeah, mostly because of the money. Big Eddie wanted to send a message to anyone else who was thinking of screwing him over. He also wouldn’t want me to live and use my psychic abilities to help his competition.”
“That guy, Billy, had the whole gangster vibe.” Dante rubs his chin. “Organized crime?”
I nod. “Anyway, ever since I was a teenager, I had a string of bad relationships, where I’ve been cheated on, hit, berated, etc.” With a shrug, I add, “I’m damaged goods.”
“Not damaged, maybe wounded, but wounds can heal.” Dante touches my knee over the blankets. “As far as me being out of your league, I’m really not.”
“Well, only as far aslooksgo…” I smirk, letting a bit of levity slip into the atmosphere.
“Ha-ha.” He grins widely then pulls out his phone. “Look at this pic.”
I peer at a picture of Dante. He’s still attractive, but not in the blinding way he usually appears to me.
My brow crinkles in confusion. “You don’t look the same.”
“Evan took this picture of me.” Dante swipes his phone and shows me another pic of himself. “This is a pic you took of me when we were playing tourist on the job a week ago.”
He’s vibrant, and his eyes light up the screen. The pictures almost appear to be of two different people.
“What happened? Why are they so different?” I ask.
Dante holds up a finger for me to hold that thought, then he swipes the screen to show me another pic from that same day, when we made a karmic day of irritating obnoxious people.
