Page 26 of Falling Into Forever
She stands opposite me, rocking from foot to foot, as the scope of my nightmare plays out in front of me.
CHAPTER7
SAYLOR
“What we had wasn’t love, and it wasn’t professional.” This is where a horrid woman named Olivia flashes the camera a sickeningly sad grimace. The mind-numbing image burned my retinas when I watched it earlier. “Men like him don’t know how to love. I realize that now. It’s a power trip for them. He’s a predator, and I’m not the only one to fall into his web of abuse.”
Dante flinches, and his skin turns a sickly shade of green. “He doesn’t love anyone but himself. Not even his own brother. What he did with Trent’s girlfriend is unacceptable. He even named the baby—his niece. That’s beyond twisted. He’s been masterminding people’s careers for so long that he forgot we’re actually people when the cameras turn off.”
This god-awful actress lowers her gaze and wipes away a nonexistent tear. “How can that child’s mother allow that little girl to spend any time with him? He’s dangerous and violent. If he lashed out in front of cameras, imagine what he’s like in private.”
Olivia fake sobs, and I clench my hands into fists to keep myself from sticking my finger in my mouth like a dramatic teenager.
“I didn’t know what else to do.” She shakes her shoulders like I want to shake her. It should terrify me that I still have so many protective reactions for Dante, but it doesn’t. What I am scared of is how those feelings wrap around my body like a long-awaited embrace.
“I thought I had to do what he said, but I’ve never been so terrified.” The nasal voice of the worst actress in America snaps me back to the moment, to Dante’s face, and I wish I could erase the pain I find there. “Can you imagine how scary that life must be for a little girl? Trent has tried to keep him away from Poppy, but he’s still inappropriately close to her mother.”
Oh God. Oh. God. I might be sick. None of that is true, I know that in my bones, but what kind of monster would try to tear a little girl away from people who love her like that? Because that is the only thing they can possibly gain from this narrative. Child services will have to intervene, right? What will happen if he can’t see his niece?
I’m definitely going to be sick. As much as I need to keep up my walls, it’s becoming harder by the minute because I have never been able to forget Dante’s greatest wish—to have a family.
His body vibrates, sweat rolls down his temple, and a new vein throbs like a snare drum in the center of his forehead. But it’s his tears that tell me the truth.
The grating sound of Olivia’s voice plays in the background as a man steps up beside her. Him. Trent. I recognize him from shows I loved as a child, and the magazines in the grocery store.
He has the same strong jawline and elegantly slanted nose as Dante, and like their father, their high cheekbones and chiseled features always make them look like they’re smiling. But it’s the piercing blue eyes that give them away. There’s no mistaking the family resemblance. But where Dante’s mother was Italian and gave him his sun-kissed complexion, Trent has strawberry blond hair and fair skin.
“Dante?” His gaze is unfocused, so I gently close the laptop.
I’m not sure what to do, and it causes me to fidget. I can’t do feelings in real life. I was never very good at them, and since my sister died, I’ve become a master at shuttering them all behind a protective wall. They’re messy and uncomfortable and never work out how they should. Real-life feels are Ainsley’s department, not mine. I’m good for a quick comeback and a fuck off.
And isn’t it just a kick to the taint that the only person who can drag compassion from the dark, dank dungeon of my soul is Dante flipping Thompson?
The floor creaks beneath my feet, and I attempt to still my swaying limbs.
I didn’t think it possible, but his body continues to coil tighter until I’m sure he’ll explode.
“Dante,” I whisper, slowly moving closer, like I’m sneaking up on a cat with a travel carrier. I’m not even sure he’s able to hear me right now. This kind of rage has a way of blocking our reality—I should know, I’ve been fighting it for years. “Dante,” I try again. “What can I do?”
What am I even saying? I’m not the consoler. I’m the one who intentionally blocks emotions, and I certainly can’t care about his. Not anymore. Right?
Startled, he blinks rapidly, causing more moisture to fall from his sky-blue depths. He doesn’t open his mouth when he speaks, his jaw locked so tightly that I’d need a crowbar to open it.
“That’s not true,” he says, pointing to the computer. His words are filled with so much venom that the sting hits from six feet away. “I can’t believe they used Poppy like that. I—I can’t believe he betrayed me. Trent is my brother. I let him into my life. He knows…” His gaze pierces mine until I blink away the intensity of the moment.
“Trent knew about you.” He sighs and drops his head into his hands as it hits me. He’s the reason Malimar knew about my sister. Dante told Trent everything.
“I’m an adult who entered that world willingly,” he says, and I try to focus on his words through the blood pumping in my ears. “You guys didn’t. With Poppy, they didn’t want her growing up like the assholes we work with. Trent was adamant that she have a better childhood than he had. With you, I thought he understood. I thought…”
He leans forward, placing his forearms on his thighs. Then he begins to shake, and something I’ve avoided for years burns through my body like wildfire—empathy.
Losing the ability to sympathize was the first step for me shutting down all those years ago. But the pain inside me now is too real, too visceral to be anything else.
And it scares the shit out of me.
I scan my home like an answer will magically appear, but when it doesn’t, I desperately wish I had forced Ainsley to come over.
It takes three tries to dislodge the knot in my throat. It hurts going down and leaves the bitter taste of regret on my tongue. Then I sit next to the asshole—who isn’t feeling like an asshole at all.
