Page 52 of Depraved
And it’s fucking working. Damn him because he’s damned me.
“Okay,” I say, taking a breath, hoping for some amount of calm. “Well. You have fun,” I bite out, shaking my head “But let me point out that you didn’t know—for two days—that I wasn’t on my knees and you still brought this whore home?”
Dante narrows his eyes at me, disliking my point. “You’re the dick in this scenario. Not me for avoiding speaking to a lunatic.”
“Um, excuse me,” Barbie pipes up with a whine. “Don’t let her call me a whore.”
“Oh, come on, you know who you are, hooker,” I snap as she scowls. “I don’t have the desire to examine your poor life choices right now. Do what you’re good at and be quiet. Or better yet, say something else and not even Dante will be able to help you,” I offer with a smile.
The son of a bitch actually chuckles. “If I’m reading this right—and I am—you care that I brought another woman back to my home?” He smirks arrogantly. “You’re jealous.”
I wipe my cheek, afraid of a tear that may fall. “You want me jealous. I’m not. I’m disappointed that you keep proving to me that you’re like all the rest of the men in my life.”
I see his hands fist and the anger spike like electric shocks through his body.
“No. That’s bullshit. You fucking care. Admit that shit. Now,” he growls.
We stand staring at each other, our eyes locked.
“I couldn’t care less,” I counter, lying through my damn teeth as his toy runs her hands over his shoulders. It’s like she’s in heat. Fucking bitch.
“Yeah?” he challenges, shrugging off Barbie’s hand on his shoulder. “You don’t care who I fuck, right? We don’t exist, right?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely!” I bark, crossing my arms, still holding my wineglass.
Dante narrows his eyes at me as we stand locked in a fierce stare down. I refuse to look away until he admits he’s being an asshole. Simple as that. I win. No other option.
“Unbuckle my pants,” he directs in a low gravel.
I open my mouth to say “hell no” when I hear his buckle rattle.
That wasn’t for me.
My heart stops, right in my chest. He’s not talking to me. My head shakes as I watch her jump to action.
His hips jerk forward, and my eyes shoot to his waist as Barbie pulls the leather from the hook. I glance back to him, and he smirks as she unbuttons his slacks but leaves them zipped.
My chest begins to rise and fall faster as fight or flight begins to take over. Because that’s a natural reaction when someone declares war. But my body is still trying to decide if I leave or kill everyone.
“Get down on your knees,” he growls.
Her hand slides across his chest as she looks over her cheap-ass shoulder and steps out of her heels, slowly dropping to her knees.
My words get caught in my throat, eaten by the bile trying to come up. My arms drop to my side, and I stare at him, not even trying to hide the hurt behind my eyes anymore.
Dante’s not my boyfriend, and I don’t love him, but this still feels like a betrayal.
“You could stop this anytime, Billy. Just say what I want to hear,” he says tenderly, and I want to scream.
His eyes don’t leave mine, and I say exactly what he wants to hear, but it all stays in my head because he doesn’t deserve to ever hear it.
I want you, just for me, more than I’ve wanted anything in my life. I haven’t stopped wanting it since you first touched me, but I’m leaving and never coming back. And that’s all for you. All my lies have all been for you, not against you.
My eyes blink away the thought and drop to the couch. I grab a pillow, tossing it in their direction. “Here, for your knees. Bruises are a hooker’s dead giveaway. You wouldn’t want everyone to know your trade secrets, sweetie.”
Dante’s jaw tenses, all the muscles rippling, but all I feel is empty. I’m done. I’ve reached the point where I can’t care anymore.
“You didn’t really expect me to fold that easily, did you?” I laugh, but it’s hollow. Tipping my glass back, I remember it’s empty. “Looks like I’m dry…I should put this in the sink.”
