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“I should put you over my knee, turn your ass red for this shit. Are you insane? This twisted plan of yours. Did you think that maybe one of Paulie’s men watched you send that note? Intercepted it? Would follow your trail?”
I didn’t.
“I was safe.”
“I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you. You’re never safe enough, especially if you don’t have backup. If you think you’re safe, you’re the most exposed you’ve ever been. If that did happen—if his soldier followed you, if they have your letter . . . What did it say?”
I lick my lips but smile. “Nothing that they would understand. There was a line in his letter to me. I pulled from it. It wouldn’t make sense, but to the right person . . .” There is a flash of pride in Dante’s eyes that gets swallowed quickly.
“If Paulie—"
“What will he do, Dante? Tell me. Tell me everything.” My mind is burning with the potential of knowing, the potential of being a team instead of being stuck in the dark.
Dante opens his mouth, though, and I know before he even speaks.
I know he won’t tell me anything.
“This plan . . .”
“The fucking plan,” I say with a sigh, the shine of our trip already fading.
“Soon, Lilah. Soon.”
“I’ll know?”
“Yes.” His eyes go dark, and something about them makes me want to recoil, makes me wish we had never gone back to Jersey to face the real world. Like his plan is dark and devious and everything we should be avoiding. Then he’s on top of me, balancing on his hands and hovering above me.
“Dante, I—"
“Do you trust me?” he asks, and it doesn’t take longer than a single millisecond for the answer to come to my lips.
“With my life,” I say, and I expect a smile, a kiss. Something.
I get neither. I get another fierce question.
“Do you know I love you?”
“Of course, honey,” I say, my voice going soft because I do. In our own fucked-up, unhinged way, this man loves me, and despite all signs pointing to run the fuck away, I love him just as crazy.
“Do you know that I would never—” He grabs my chin, forcing me to look him in the eyes and see what’s there: honesty and fear and longing and regret. “—never fucking put you in danger? That everything I do is for you? That every fucking move I make is to keep you safe and to give you the goddamned world?”
“Dante, this—" His grip tightens, and he speaks through gritted teeth.
“Do you fucking understand that, Delilah?”
“Yeah, Dante. Yes.”
“I need you to trust me tonight. No matter what. You put on your siren’s smile, and you sit pretty and pretend you’re not deadly. Got me?”
“Dante, you’re scaring me.”
“I will find you tonight. I will explain.” His phone rings from where he left it on the vanity across the room, and he curses under his breath. His fingers dig into my chin harder, and he looks at me.
His eyes are frantic.
He needs this.
I can give him this peace, this knowledge that I understand, that I know he loves me, that I trust him. That no matter what chaos happens tonight, I’ll be waiting for him after.
