Serena
“You have no idea how long I have been waiting to have you to myself.”
“You look so pretty when you cry. I wonder how many tears I can make you shed before the night is over.”
I make a break for the kitchen. I need a knife or something to hurt him with.
He stops a foot away from me and laughs at the blade.
He takes a step towards me. I start slashing the blade around, trying to keep my distance from him. I can’t see his face, but I can feel the smile he is giving, patronizing me. I do the only thing I can think of. I throw the knife as hard as I can and grab another knife from the drawer. He dodges the flying knife and pulls a gun on me.
He holds the gun up, aims at my chest, and laughs. I straighten my back and wait for the shot that is coming. I stare death in the face and wait. The seconds feel like hours while he holds me hostage. He clicks the safety off, and I close my eyes.
BANG!
“.” Someone is frantically calling my name. The voice sounds so familiar, so comforting. I want to open my eyes, but they won’t cooperate.
The voice calls my name a few more times, I can feel their hands on me. I should be scared, worried that my stalker finally has taken me, but I’m not. I feel content, safe, and protected. Like nothing bad will happen to me again.
I blink a few times, clearing the fog that covers my sight. Dante is leaning over me, fear and worry lining his beautiful features. I try to reach out to him with my right arm, but the pain is scorching. I look around, noticing I am on the floor, surrounded by all the men who were at the table. The creep is still on the floor in front of me, bleeding out of the wound on his head.
I must have fallen on my injured arm when I blacked out. I can feel my arm pulsing, but I try to push through the pain and sit up. Dante starts barking orders in Italian, making everyone run from the room. The man who was speaking to Dante during the meeting grabs a glass of water from the table and hands it to me. I smile in appreciation and take a sip.
He looks at me, once again assessing me. His gaze wanders across my body, not in a creepy way. Almost like he is deciding if he trusts me or not. His eyes reach mine again. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Michael.”
“. I wish I had made a better first impression.” I joke, trying to avoid the embarrassment I feel.
Dressed the way that I am, and fainting in front of all these people is a horrible first impression. I don’t know what relationship these men have with Dante, but it’s obvious they respect him in a specific way. I always thought if I met anyone that Dante knew, I would be prepared for that. I would have been able to dress up, and, you know, not faint in front of them because I had a flashback of that night.
Dante helps me stand, his arms protectively around me as I get to my feet. He keeps me tucked against his side as he waits for everyone to vacate the room. Michael is the only one left, clearly not leaving. Dante guides me over to a booth, far away from the dead body that is still lying on the ground.
“Chiama l'equipaggio delle pulizie. Voglio che quel corpo sparisca entro i prossimi venti minuti.” Dante says to Michael.
Michael bows his head before taking out his phone, walking a few paces away, and calling someone.
The room is quiet except for Michael, whisper-yelling in Italian to whoever is on the other end of the call. My eyes wander around the room, needing somewhere to look besides Dante’s pressing gaze. Anxiety coursing through my body as I, unwillingly, look at the body still bleeding out on the floor.
My stare is focused on him, but all I can see is me. What if my stalker had done that to me the night he broke in? What if Mom or someone else came in and found me lying on the floor, lifeless, like that man over there?
The one thing that surprises me the most is that I don’t feel bad for him. I don’t feel like killing him was wrong. What does that say about me? I mean, no one deserves to die, but who knows what else he could have done to me.
Michael walks back over to us, tucking his phone into his coat pocket. He leans over, whispers something in Dante’s ear that I can’t hear. Even if I could, it’s probably in Italian, so I wouldn’t understand. Dante sharply nods his head.
Michael walks to the back of the restaurant, through a set of doors. He emerges a few minutes later with a thick blue tarp and places it over the body. I turn my head, not wanting to see any more of what he plans on doing.
A few moments later, the front door of the restaurant opens, and five men wearing hazmat suits walk in. They don’t look at Michael or Dante, they just walk over to the tarped-covered body.
I watch in fascination as they efficiently wrap the body up, take it out through the back, and clean the blood off the floor. They complete their task in less than twenty minutes and leave. Never speaking once to anyone. How many times have they done that?
The door closes behind them, ushering in a deafening silence in the room. Dante hasn’t let go of me since we sat down, and I can feel his penetrating gaze on the side of my head. Taking a deep breath, I look over at him. In the depth of his dark amber eyes, I can see all the questions that are screaming in his head.
I glanced over at Michael, still standing a few feet away from us. Dante says something to him, I’m guessing he is asking for some privacy. Michael nods before walking to the back of the restaurant.
“Darling,” Dante starts. So much emotion is in his mesmerizing greenish amber eyes. Many things about Dante catch your attention, but his eyes have to be the most spectacular of them all. They are so vibrant, with little flecks of gold woven in. He may hold a hard exterior, but his eyes are the windows to his soul. I can see every emotion. Every thought he has in them. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” His voice is soft, like he is speaking to a wounded animal.
I guess in some ways, I am. Not how I ever wanted to describe myself, but it’s true. Everything I have been through has turned me into this. It’s not what I want, but it’s reality right now. A reality that I plan on changing. I refuse to let everything that has happened to me affect me.
I look at Dante, trying to find the right words. I already gave him the half-truth, so that should explain why I reacted the way I did. But do I keep up with the half-truth or do I tell him the real story?
Can I trust him enough to tell him everything?
Do I trust him?
Weirdly, I do. There is something about him that I can’t put my finger on, but it calls to me. Telling me to tell him every secret I have, knowing they will be kept safe. Dante is a protector. He wouldn’t use this against me.
I take a deep breath, steadying myself before letting everything out. I pull the end of my sleeves over my hands, adding another layer of mental protection, as I debate telling him about Evan. I haven’t told the Kings, but maybe I should finally get it all off my chest. If I tell Dante, I know I will need to tell them too.
I trust all four of them. They deserve to know every dirty secret of mine, even if they are all keeping some from me. Hopefully, if I can open up, so can they.
Isn’t that what relationships are about? Honesty. Trust. Communication.
Not that we are in a relationship. I don’t even know what you would call this situation I have going on. But if this ever turned into a relationship with just one of them or all of them, the last thing I would want it to be built on is lies.
I take a deep breath, steadying myself. I need to be honest. I need to tell the whole truth. I need someone to know everything.
My voice is quiet, nervous as I start with everything that happened with Evan. The whole story. How he made me feel. What he did to me. How it ended.
The more I speak, the angrier Dante gets, though his body stays as relaxed as he can force it to be. I drip his hand, holding it with mine for him and me. I need the stability that he gives me after spilling my horrible past.
I stop speaking for a moment. Not sure where to go from here, but Dante is sitting on bated breath for me to keep going. So I do.
“Midas might drive me crazy, but I love it. Arguing with him is something foreign to me, but it feels right. To have someone challenge me and not make me feel bad about it. He may be thick-headed and arrogant, but he has a sweet side to him.
“Odin is everything I never knew I wanted. He is wild, crazy, and unpredictable, but those are the best qualities. He makes me laugh and smile even when I thought I never would.
“Zeus is strong and level-headed, but he has a darker side to him. He can be the sweetest guy to me, but he also stands up for me when I need it. He cherishes me in a way no one has before.”
Dante’s body was rigid as I spoke about the Kings. He takes in my words, assessing them. I can see the wheels turning in his head as he merges the version of them that he knows with the words I say about them. He doesn’t refute my claims, letting me get out everything I need to.
I don’t know why I need to say all this, but I do. I think it’s because of the animosity between them. I am silently praying that if they all know the truth of my feelings for each of them, they can overcome whatever is between them.
Wishful thinking, I know.
“And you, Dante. You are the most surprising to me. I don’t know much about you yet, but there is something I can’t deny between us. You are a protector, and I have never had that in my life. You spoil me in a way I never could have imagined I deserved.
“I like all four of you for very different reasons, but I feel like I need all of you to make me whole. I know that probably sounds insanely selfish and unrealistic, but it’s the truth. Since moving to Fallingbrook, life has changed so much, but it has all been for the better. I don’t want to lose any of you.”
He instantly relaxes when I say how I feel about him. He leans over, gently placing his lips against me. The kiss is sweet, tender, and not nearly long enough for my liking.
Before I can deepen the kiss, he leans back, imploring me to continue my story. This is the part that is the hardest to tell him. The stalker. My hands shake as I tell him about the letters, pictures, text messages, and roses. How he has broken into my home more than once, and about that night I thought I was going to die.
The air becomes thick with the anger radiating from Dante.
“Give me your phone.” He demands.
I obliged, taking my phone out of my bag and handing it over to him. I watch as he reads over the messages that were sent to me from the stalker. His jaw is thrumming the more he reads. I watch as he forwards the messages to himself and then sends them to Michael.
“I promise you that I will find this person and he will find a fitting end.” There is so much conviction in his voice, I know he is telling the truth.
He is now the fourth person to promise that to me. It should terrify me that they speak of killing like it is a normal thing. That they can take a life without any remorse, but that is the life they have grown up in. From this meeting, it is obvious to me that Dante is a part of a gang.
Just another thing to get used to in my new reality.
Instead, warmth rushes through my entire body. I understand being happy about someone committing to killing another person for you is wrong on so many levels, but maybe I need a little wrong in my life.
“Let’s get out of here.” Dante steps out of the booth, extending his hand for me to take.
I don’t have to think twice before placing my hand in his. He grips my hand tight, pulling me out and tucking me under his arm. We walked out of the restaurant and to his waiting car that Michael brought around for us.
In this moment, I knew I would follow him to hell and back.