Page 83 of Depraved
“Not even you,” Gretchen warns, grabbing her wine and walking toward the door.
The drive back to Dante’s is quiet. Our unfinished conversation hangs over our heads like a dark cloud. The rest of the night seemed to go by fine, but I could tell it was on his mind, needling him. He kept staring at me like he was deciding what to do with me.
I reach for his hand, sliding my much smaller one into his palm. Dante closes his around mine, but he keeps his head turned, staring out the passenger window.
“Are we ever going to talk about it?” I whisper to his profile.
“Did you have a good time tonight?” he answers flatly, finally turning his head toward mine.
I guess not.
I nod, hating how off we feel. With my free hand, I unbuckle my seat belt and close the space between us, crawling into his lap. I want to be close to him; we might be sitting inches from one another, but he feels a million miles away.
“Billy,” he breathes out, tipping his head back again to look at the ceiling of the car. The way he says my name sounds like regret.
And I know it’s my fault. I placed that acid on his tongue.
I don’t say anything, choosing to just stay curled in his lap with my head on his shoulder and held close by his strong arms. The entire time I lie on him, I listen to him breathing, the steady rhythm of his heart beating inside his body as his hand trails up and down my back.
How do I walk away from him?
Before I knew him this way, I would’ve slipped right out of the door and never given it a second thought because leaving was the only choice. It was the only one I could make to protect the people who I’ve come to love here, but now all I want to do is stay.
If I stay, I put everyone in danger. How do I do that…even in the name of love?
The car slows to a stop, and I drag my head from my Dante pillow and look into his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, hoping it’s accepted for everything I’m planning to do.
His face is serious, not a hint of tenderness, as if he understands everything I mean. I search his deep hazel eyes as his features become hard and removed. Dante’s eyes falter, and the man I know, the one I love, disappears.
“There’s something you need to know,” he says gruffly.
It’s the way he says it that tells me that whatever I’m about to hear is going to be hated by my soul. Dante lifts me off his lap, pushing me into my seat as if he’s discarding me. His door is opened, and he steps out, holding his hand out for me to take. The freezing night air bursts inside the car, so I hand his jacket out to him before putting on my own.
I duck my head and take his hand to join him outside on the sidewalk in front of an older building. My head swings around as I begin to realize that we’re a block up from my apartment.
“What’s going on?” I question, fear creeping up my spine.
The last time I was here, I saw Christopher.
Dante stares at me with unreadable eyes—ones that feel like they’re burning right through me.
“Dante.” I squeeze his hand. “What’s going on?”
Blinking, he looks away from me, and my stomach begins to fall. “Come with me,” he directs, stalking forward and pulling me inside the concrete building. I’m immediately ushered up one flight of stairs. The old, dank linoleum cracks under our footsteps as we walk, announcing our presence.
Dante stops in front of an apartment with a tarnished number 4 on the door, and I look down the hall, noticing the old tattered wallpaper and the busted light on the wall. He reaches for the handle, twisting and opening it.
Stepping inside, he motions with his head for me to enter. Everything inside of me says to run. To refuse. And with every look I give him, the angrier he becomes.
“In,” he demands, repeating the head jerk.
I hesitate but move, slowly looking up at his face as I pass him. Dante follows me in and shuts the door behind him as I wrap my arms around my center, turning to look at him in the middle of the disheveled pigsty.
“This is where your father and brother were staying. After they called you that night, when they got a look at who you were with…that was all it took. They split.”
All the breath leaves my body. They were around the corner…and for how long? The thought makes me physically ill.
