Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
“Still, I fought like crazy, until one of those dudes pulled a knife on me. This long switchblade. I remember the look in his eye, told me to get on the ground, give him the fucking money or he’d slit my throat. I believed him too ‘cos I’d just punched him in the neck and kicked his friend in the balls.” Gino grinned, his eyes a little distant, before sipping his coffee.
“How did Dante get involved?” I asked.
“He was in the park,” Gino said. “Didn’t see him at first. I guess he was there selling weed. That’s what he said, anyway. I don’t know why he came up or why he got involved, you’d have to ask him that. But as soon as that asshole pulled a knife, Dante appeared with Steven at his back, shouting at the dudes to fuck off, even though he was still younger than them. Well, shit got tense, and the knife guy got into Dante’s face. Dante knocked the guy down, took his knife, and Steven pulled a gun. The dudes got on the ground, the two of them took all their money, and we got the fuck out of there.”
Gino grinned huge, ear to ear, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Are you serious? You guys ended up robbing them?”
“Fuck yeah,” he said. “Made another hundred bucks each. They didn’t have to give me anything, but I think Dante felt bad. After that, I started working for him, you know? He cut me into his business and I started selling weed. Little bit at first, but more and more. I never forgot what he did for me, never fucking will. I’ve been with Dante since the start.”
He finished his story and slumped back in his chair. He let out a breath and finished his coffee.
“Should I be afraid of him?” I asked Gino, my voice soft and low.
Gino shrugged. “Probably. If you weren’t stupid, you would be.”
“But I don’t think I am.” I bit my lip and shook my head. “It’s crazy. He… you know what he did to my father. You were there that night.”
“I know,” he said. “And your dad deserved it.” Gino stood up abruptly. “Look, I’m just your guard, all right? Don’t ask me shit about Dante anymore.”
I blinked, surprised. “I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to… I didn’t mean to cross any lines.”
“I don’t want to get involved in his shit. I just do what he tells me to do, all right? So don’t ask me shit about him anymore.”
“Yeah, okay, Gino. I won’t.”
“Good.” He hesitated then shook his head. “Of course you should be afraid of him. You don’t know shit about Dante. Maybe if you got to know him, you could answer your own stupid fucking question.” He turned and walked away from the table. He sat back down on the couch, feet up on the coffee table, and turned the TV on.
I sat there for a long moment trying to figure out what I just did wrong. But he didn’t look back and I knew not to push him too hard. So I got up, cleared his dish and his cup, poured myself more coffee, and headed back to my room. I was tempted to go get into Dante’s bed, breathe his smell from his sheets, but I decided not to push my luck. I retreated into my own bed and curled up beneath the covers, my eyes shut tight.
I kept thinking about Dante’s body against mine, about him stepping up onto the porch with water dripping into his eyes, his shirt splattered with blood and drenched with rain. He kissed me hard and pinned me there like I was his to use and abuse, and I liked it. God, I hated myself just a little bit, but I liked it when he took me like that.
But I was afraid of him, afraid of how I was starting to feel.
It was those words that just wouldn’t go away.
He was going to make me his bride.
That should’ve made me feel sick. Instead, it made my heart beat faster, made me feel lightheaded, made me feel dizzy with lust and need.
I covered my head with a pillow and tried to figure things out.
15
Dante
I spent two nights in the city reassuring my people that things would be fine and getting business done. But two nights away from Aida was too long, and I was itching to see her by the end of the third afternoon. I made Steven take me on a little side trip to center city’s shops before we drove back to Mt. Airy.
He didn’t comment on the big box I’d put in the back seat. Knew better than to push me on that, not with the mood I was in.
“Any word from the Don?” I asked him. “Or any of his soldiers?”