Enrage Page 9

  Maybe that was why it had taken me a while to recognize him.

  Because my brain refused to acknowledge that this man, this very dangerous man with even more dangerous connections was in the same city as me.

  Same University.

  “You do not belong to the Italians.” His voice was threatening.

  Dante snorted out a laugh. “Yeah well neither do I, looks like we’re both trapped, why else would I be screwing her under their roof? The spoils of war, Andrei.” His eyes locked on me. “She’s mine.”

  “Pity, I would have liked to take her back where she belongs.”

  I tried not to puke.

  To react.

  Where I belonged in his mind was chained to a bed.

  Ivan spoke up. “Andrei,” He pointed to his watch.

  Andrei gave Dante one last once over before he put on his sunglasses. “You’ll eat with us.”

  “We’ll see,” Dante said.

  Klaus looked between them like he was waiting for Andrei to pull a gun or punch Dante, instead Andrei smiled and put an arm around Dante. “I like you.”

  “Most people do,” Dante said in an amused voice.

  “You don’t take shit,” Andrei added.

  “I’m better at giving it.”

  Andrei barked out a laugh one more time and slapped him on the back. “Eh, eat with us, don’t eat with us, just come back tonight.”

  “Another fight?”

  “Fighting. Food. Fucking.” Andrei shrugged. “It’s all the same to us—” His jerked his attention to me again. “You can bring your girl if you want, just remember, if another member wants her — you have to at least let them look — even if they can’t touch.”

  “I’ll think about it.” Dante smiled blandly, while Andrei and the rest of the guys walked off.

  I was still shaking from the exchange when Dante grabbed my hand again and led me toward my first class. When my legs wouldn’t cooperate, he pulled me behind a large oak tree and pressed me against it.

  “Hold yourself together, El, you’re stronger than this shit.” His blue eyes searched mine. “All right?”

  I sucked in a large breath and gave him a jerky nod. “He…he,” I could barely get the words out. “He saw me one night after Xavier beat me, he laughed.”

  Dante slammed his hand into the tree, his jaw popped as he gritted his teeth together and then calm washed over him as he whispered near my ear, “Want me to kill him?”

  A few people walked by and stared at us, it looked like he was kissing my neck, like we were normal college students sharing a moment.

  Nope. Wrong story, kiddos.

  He just offered to kill someone for offending me, run along, nothing to see here.

  “After,” I said. “Kill him after he stops being useful to you, to the bosses.” I couldn’t believe what was coming out of my mouth, what I was agreeing to. “Yes.”

  Dante pulled back, his face broke out into a smile. “How messed up is it that I’m actually looking forward to that moment?”

  I gulped. “It’s in your blood.”

  “I wish it wasn’t,” he said gruffly. “I wish I didn’t crave it — dream about it — almost as much as I wish I didn’t feel guilt every day because of it.”

  I sighed and put my hands on his chest, then ran them up around his neck, he didn’t move, or flinch, so maybe we were having a moment as our mouths almost touched. “The only shame in life, is not being who you were truly born to be. If that means you kill the bad guys — kill the bad, guys Dante. Just don’t lose your soul in the process.”

  “And if it’s already gone?” He croaked his eyes darkening as he slowly leaned in until his forehead touched mine.

  Days ago I would have been terrified that his body was this close.

  Days ago, I would have shoved him away and run.

  Days ago, I would have shuddered that his bloodstained hands were running up and down my skin.

  But today.

  Today was different.

  Today I closed my eyes and drank in the wicked scent of Dante Nicolasi, the cologne mixed with soap. I inhaled.

  And opened my eyes again.

  Yesterday I was angry. I was afraid.

  Today. Against the tree.

  Pinned by Dante’s arms.

  I was safe.

  “I’ll help you find it,” I whispered.

  “Just don’t damn yourself in the process, El.” He cupped my face with his right hand, his eyes fell to my mouth, his half-lidded seductive look could stop a girl dead in her tracks.

  The wives always talked about how attractive his father was, even at an older age.

  Almost like he’d aged backward.

  Dante was no different.

  If it was possible for a human to get more attractive by the day — he’d be the one to prove you right.

  “Are you going to kiss me again?” I asked hopefully.

  “No.” He pulled away.

  My heart sank into my stomach.

  “Because I don’t want to start something I have no intention of stopping.”

  My head jerked, our eyes locked, and I saw it. The honesty.

  “Told you I’d never lie to you, El.” His voice had a warning edge to it, like I shouldn’t push him, push whatever invisible boundaries he’d mentally set up between us. His eyes never left mine.

  And I knew, this was what he looked like when he was telling the truth.

  His eyes pierced through my defenses in an unapologetic search for my heart, my soul.

  And I let them.

  “We should get to class.” I finally found my voice and started walking, he fell into step beside me.

  And I spent the rest of the day thinking about the non-kiss.

  And the promise that came with it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Dante

  I SHOULD HAVE been thinking about business — about the art of warfare, keeping your enemies closer than blood.

  Instead, I was thinking of El’s mouth.

  Her lips mainly, and the way they curved into the most stunning smile I’d ever seen when she was happy. The way her tongue slid across her bottom lip, wetting it just enough to make her look like a damn feast for my eyes.

  I would have kissed her.

  I wouldn’t have stopped.

  I was the guy you wanted on your side in a war.

  I was the guy that killed the guy you hated.

  I was the guy who bled for you.

  I was not the guy who just kissed and walked away.

  I honestly wasn’t sure I had it in me. And I knew if I kissed her again, if it happened, everything would snap.

  My focus would be gone.

  It was already complete shit and all I had were the memories of what she tasted like, right along with the feel of her ass pressed against me in that damn pantry.

  She belonged to someone else.

  Would belong to someone else.

  And I would be the biggest prick alive if I took what wasn’t mine to take just because I wanted to taste her again.

  The guy who kissed her next, needed to be a guy who didn’t have blood on his hands, a guy who didn’t enjoy this side of the mafia.

  A guy who didn’t live this life.

  I tortured myself another hour before my last class and tried not to take it out on her on the way home.

  Which was harder — in every way — when one of the buttons on her shirt came loose exposing her lacy powder blue bra just at the precise moment that I turned to ask her a question.

  I almost murdered three mailboxes on the way back to the house.

  And was gripping the steering wheel so tight I’m surprised my fingers hadn’t developed a type of lockjaw against the leather.

  “Are you… okay?” El asked before opening her door.

  I stared down at the steering wheel, not trusting myself to look down her shirt. “Yup.”

  “Dante…”

  My dick twitched, treacherous bastard. “Yeah?” br />
  “We’re friends… right? I mean, still friends?”

  “Yes, El.” I unbuckled my seatbelt and got out of the car, then grabbed my back pack from the backseat just as she dropped a pen from her bag and bent over right the hell in front of me.

  “Leave it,” I barked.

  She looked up, didn’t stand, just looked up, on her knees, in front of me, I was never getting that vision out of my head, great more things to fantasize about.

  I needed people to kill.

  I pinched the bridge of my nose, closed my eyes, and just walked around her, leaving her in the perfect position for me to drop my pants in front of her.

  Maybe that was best. Just make her feel like a cheap whore, get her to hate me forever like she used to, and move on.

  Except.

  The thought of treating her that way.

  Of her thinking I even thought that.

  Made me sicker than when I had to shoot Ike last night.

  So, I let the door slam behind me and made my way into the kitchen only to find Chase staring into a bottle of red wine.

  “Kinda early, Chase.” I swiped the bottle and started chugging.

  I stopped after a few gulps then slammed it down on the counter.

  “Drinking at four in the afternoon, not normal Dante behavior…” Chase grinned. “I mean, I’m not one to judge, I treat water like wine as every good Italian should, but something got you… hard up?”

  “I see why Nixon’s always threatening to shoot you now. I really get it.” I reached for the bottle again, but he scooted it away and crossed his bulky tatted arms. “So? Who’s the girl?”

  “Girl?”

  “Guy?” He looked confused. “Llama?”

  “You’re a jackass.” I reached behind him, he blocked me with one of his ninja tricks just as El made her way into the room, took one look at us, and charged right on by.

  “Huh.” Chase let me get the wine this time.

  “It’s not what you think,” I grumbled.

  “So, you’re not the reason for the missing button?” His amused expression wasn’t helping my mood at all. “The one near the top, is that bra, blue?”

  I reached into my back pocket pulled out my knife and held it to his throat at the same time he pointed a gun at my chin. “Damn it.”

  “Still faster.” With his free hand he grabbed the wine and poured it into a waiting glass, the gun still pressed to my chin, he drank and then sighed happily. “So, you like her?”

  “No,” I lied.

  “You’re holding me at knife point because I commented on the color of her bra.”

  “Say it again, I dare you,” I snapped.

  “Blue.” He laughed as a trickle of blood ran down his throat where I held the knife.

  Nixon walked in, took one look at us, rolled his eyes and walked off.

  You’d think this would concern him.

  I think it just made him jealous he wasn’t a part of the pissing match.

  Damn mafia.

  Chase pulled the gun away, his eyebrows shot up. I relented and shoved my knife back into my pocket.

  “So, we have guests tonight,” Chase said changing the subject like we hadn’t both been ready to attack each other. “Try not to pull any knives on them.”

  “You’re the only one lucky enough to piss me off on a daily basis.” I stole his glass and gave him the middle finger.

  Chase laughed loudly, then handed me the whole bottle. “Honestly, I think I’m going to really enjoy this.”

  “What?” Dread filled my stomach.

  “One of our cousins is here, I think he’d be great for El.”

  I spit out the wine into the sink and wiped my mouth. “Bullshit. What? I thought it was going to take weeks? Didn’t you say days this morning? Days until one of them came into town?”

  Chase shrugged. “He had business, decided to come early, we invited him into our lovely home—”

  “Never say lovely again.”

  “LOVELY!” Chase yelled loudly. “Besides, the sooner she gets under someone’s protection, the safer she is.” His expression sobered. “She doesn’t want in this life anymore. And we’re able to give her that choice,” He slapped me on the shoulder. “So try not to kill the lucky bastard, eh?”

  I swore. “No promises.”

  “Yeah well, I’ll tell Nixon to dig a hole just in case.”

  “Make it deep,” I murmured.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  El

  SOMEONE WAS KNOCKING on the bathroom door.

  Which would have been weird if I wasn’t fully aware of the someone and the room connected to it.

  I jerked it open. To see Dante staring at me, wearing nothing but low-slung jeans and a smile.

  I kept my eyes focused on his face.

  And tried not to let them linger too long on his mouth or anywhere below his chin where I knew there would be chunky abs and a V that dipped deep into his pants.

  My eyes followed the direction of my thoughts, I didn’t even realize I was staring until one finger tilted my chin back up. At least he looked more amused than offended, while my face heated to a painful degree.

  You’d think I’d never seen a naked man before.

  Then again, my husband hadn’t ever… let me touch him in any way, I was there for his pleasure.

  Not my own.

  And most of the time, I was taken swiftly, in every way that made it possible for him to get off while I never even got to look into his eyes.

  I shoved the memory away.

  Along with the feelings of his hands on me.

  Well at least I wasn’t embarrassed anymore.

  Numb again. One more parting gift from him I supposed.

  “So,” Dante shoved his hands in his pockets. “Since we’re friends… I thought I’d give you a fair warning.”

  My stomach leaped into my throat with all the possibilities of what he could be talking about. “That jackass of a cousin is coming to dinner tonight, the one they want you to marry.”

  I made a face.

  “Exactly.” Dante scowled. “I just didn’t want you to get blindsided.”

  “Can’t I just…” I licked my lips and then braced my hands against the doorframe, he took a cautious step back like he was afraid I was going to lunge my body at him. “Can’t I just change my identity? Move?”

  He sighed, then gave me a pitiful look that parents give children when they explain that Santa isn’t real and that the Easter Bunny doesn’t crap chocolate. “Want the sugar-coated version?”

  “Never,” I retorted.

  He nodded, respect shone in his eyes. “There is nowhere you can go where they won’t find you. Nowhere you can go where I won’t be able to find you. They have people everywhere just like us, we have the FBI in our pockets, El, don’t be stupid enough to believe they don’t have people too. The only way out of this is in… you’re part of this life now, but it’s your choice how much of it you want a part of. You can run — they like a good chase. Or you can marry some boring ex associate who likes to watch Netflix at night rather than wash blood off his hands. Your choice.”

  My head snapped up. “What’s your favorite movie?”

  He frowned. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

  “Yeah, I run, I get chased, blood, death. You must marry. No arguing.”

  “And your only question is about movies?”

  “You said Netflix.”

  “I was making a point.”

  “Right and now I’m asking what your favorite movie is.”

  His expression went from hardened criminal to sexy as hell and half-naked — again. “Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

  I held out my hand.

  Dante looked down, gripped hard, then jerked me against his warm chest, whispering in my ear so soft it tickled the hair at the back of my neck. “Newsies.”

  I gasped.

  He jerked away and winked. “You promised. I take promises very seriously, they’r
e basically blood oaths, you break your promise and I kill you.”

  “Not if I kill you first.”

  “Empty threats.” He smirked. “Do you even know how to use a gun?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe one day you’ll find out.”

  He licked his lips, took a purposeful step toward me until we were both standing in my room. Tension swirled around us.

  A knock sounded at my door.

  He squeezed my hand then turned around and quietly shut the bathroom door behind him, just as I opened my bedroom door.

  Nixon was standing there with Trace.

  He was holding their baby in one arm, and the bottle in the other. “How was school?”

  I glared past him then shook my head. “I lived to see another day.”

  He smirked while Trace rolled her eyes and pointed at him as if to say sorry, he’s turned into a dad now.

  “So,” She stepped around him while he fed the baby. “We have company tonight.”

  “Yeah Dante filled me in.”

  Nixon’s eyes narrowed while Trace looked hopeful. “He’s sweet, I promise.”

  Sweet. I used to want sweet.

  I’d already slept with the devil.

  I deserved an angel, right?

  So why did the angel have Dante’s dark features and light eyes.

  “Yeah, okay, thanks… I’ll get ready.”

  “It’s going to be fine,” Nixon said gruffly. “This is the only way.”

  “I know,” I nodded. “And thank you.”

  They left.

  And I sat on my bed, feeling… empty.

  The door to the bathroom clicked open, and suddenly Dante was in my room, sitting on my bed and pulling open a laptop.

  Newsies was playing. The music filled my room.

  “We have time,” he encouraged.

  But we didn’t. Not really.

  Because one day, he would knock on that bathroom door.

  And I would be gone.

  Nothing but a nice memory.

  Of a girl who asked for his friendship.

  Of a girl who was starving for human contact.

  And the man who was both monster and savior — who gave it to her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Dante

  HIS NAME WAS Chris.

  What the hell kind of Italian name was Chris?

  I hated him already.