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The words are vicious, but I can hear the hurt underneath them. Her eyes are bright, almost as if she’s trying not to cry, and when I can’t stop myself from trying to reach for her.
“All this time, Rico’s been taking the money.” My jaw tightens. “Why didn’t you tell me, Emma? I could have helped. I could have solved that problem for you—”
She shakes her head ferociously, hair falling out of the messy bun that she’s piled it into on top of her head. “I know how you wouldsolvethat problem. You’d—”
Emma looks up at me as she speaks, and the look on my face stops her cold. I hadn’t meant to let it slip—tried to school my expression into something neutral—but it seems she knows me better than I realized.
“What did you do?” she whispers, dread filling her face. “After I left. What did you do? You didn’t just threaten him, did you? Oh god—” She swallows hard, her hand going out to brace herself against the window of her car. “You told me to leave, so I wouldn’t have to see. Oh fuck, Dante, you didn’t—”
“He touched you.” Anger makes my jaw clench, my teeth gritting together. “He extorted you, threatened you, and thendaredto lay a finger on you. He deserved everything that was coming to him.”
“I don’t belong to you!” Emma almost shouts it, clearly forgetting that we’re outside and standing on the curb. “I’m not yours to protect—”
“But Iwillprotect you, no matter what.” I step closer, trying not to see the way she flinches back. “Let’s talk about this inside, Emma—”
“No.” She presses her lips together. “I’m going to have to find another shop, aren’t I? You’ve just destroyed my career. Rico will—”
I let out a sharp breath, meeting her gaze with my own. “No, he won’t.”
The finality of my tone sinks in. Emma’s eyes go wide, and her hand flies to her mouth. “Oh—oh god. Dante.”
“He won’t ruin your career. He won’t do anything. You’ll probably need to find a new shop. But after the piece you did for me—”
“No.” Emma shakes her head again, more violently this time. “No, you’re not going to have anything to do with it.Orme. Goaway, Dante—”
“Emma—”
“No!”She backs up, her hands in front of her. She’s looking at me as if she doesn’t recognize me. “We’re done here, Dante. I knew we could never work out. And you’ve made it very clear to me that my instincts were right.”
She turns sharply on her heel, almost stumbling as she makes a break for her building. I want to grab her, to stop her—to do anything to keep her from leaving again. Because I know, down to my bones, that when she disappears behind that door—that’s it.
I won’t see her again.
But I can’t regret what I’ve done. Not even a little bit. Rico deserved to die.
I just regret that it made me lose the only woman I’ve ever loved.
19
EMMA
Ibarely make it into my building before I start crying.
All of it hits me at once. The heartbreak of ending things with Dante, even though I know it was the right thing to do. The argument with Rico. The fear when he grabbed me and the adrenaline when I shoved him off and onto the table. That adrenaline propelled me out of the shop and back to my car, with no real idea what I was going to do. I knew my place at the Night Orchid was gone as soon as I laid hands on him.
I was in the middle of grappling with what that meant for me and my career when I got home and realized that Dante had managed to insert himself into all of it.
Just like he’s been doing since the very beginning.
It all rushes over me, mingled with confusion and guilt, because I can’t bring myself to actually beupsetthat Rico is dead. I’m horrified by the violence of the act, by the reality of who Dante is—but deep down, I feel a sense of relief.
Rico isn’t going to ruin my career. I’m still a tattoo artist who apprenticed under Rico Axton—thelateRico Axton, now—not a disgraced artist whose name he’s smeared in every big city. Two hours ago, the latter was where I was headed. Now, that problem has been solved.
By Dante, who has been trying to swoop in and save me from the very start, no matter how hard I tried to stop him. And I can’t pretend that the outcome would have ever been any different. If I had told Dante at any point that Rico was extorting me, Dante would have taken that payment back in flesh. And when Rico inevitably tried to end my career in turn, Dante would have finished him off.
Does it make me a hypocrite that I’m horrified by what he did, but not upset about the outcome?I think it might—but I also can’t bring myself to go near Dante now. It was abundantly plain hownormalthat kind of violence is to him—but it’s not to me. I don’t want it to be.
I can’t ever see him again.
