Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
DANTE
It’s my second night back at work since Rev intervened with my hunting plans again, and I’ve somehow convinced myself that he’ll magically appear among the clubgoers.
Of course, I’ll be upset if he does.
I’m also slightly disappointed that he hasn’t. My walks home have been charged with anxiety. I can’t help but feel like someone is out there, waiting for me to get distracted so they can get the jump on me.
My brain isn’t a fun place to be right now.
Coated in a sheen of sweat, I grab a towel from my locker in the back room and swipe it over my damp face.
As much as my social battery is drained from my shift, I’m not ready to go home. Could be the walk that’s got me feeling on edge, but I don’t want to spend the money on a cab when Laz got upset about whatever crap our landlord had to say about fixing the heater.
If things don’t sort out soon, Laz might suggest moving, which would cost money we don’t have saved.
Gathering up my clothes, I head for the employee showers.
As I’m scrubbing the glitter off my body, I hear my phone buzz with a text.
It could only be Laz at this hour. No one else contacts me.
I keep my world small. I set boundaries and protect them with a sharp attitude.
The more people you let in, the more you have to lose.
Concern for my brother has me rushing out of the shower to check my phone.
DANTE
The message is from an unknown number. Frowning, my fingers hover over the keys for a few seconds before I type out a response.
who is this
Dots appear, and I grip the phone tighter to keep my hands from shaking.
Is it Rev? I wouldn’t put it past him to find my number. He works in security, and he figured out where I worked.
Is he here?
My heart beats faster. If he is, he stayed hidden from sight. I may have searched the crowd for him one too many times during my shift.
Dots appear in my message with the stranger and then…nothing.
Does he think this is funny? Pretty sure he gets some sort of sick pleasure out of fucking with me. Almost as much as he apparently likes it when I get rough with him.
Why did I rip up his business card? I could have confirmed it was him. Do I text back again?
Somehow, I don’t feel like my silence will shut Rev down, and threats would probably excite him.
I lock my phone, tossing it on a bench so I can get dressed. I’m not playing this game. Our interactions are done.
The door to the back room swings open, and Gage struts in, all lean muscle and feminine glam in his skintight crop top and matching pleated skirt.
Strands of blue shine in his black hair under the lights, and his lips shimmer with gloss.
His dolled-up appearance is part of who he is, not just his stage performances.
He considers it a successful day if someone throws a slur at him. He’s fearless in his own skin.
Gage pauses to take me in. “You okay, sweets? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Shit, I can’t work here if the place is haunted.”
The last thing I need is for Gage to start prying. There’s a good chance he’ll find a crack in my armor and worm his way down into my feels. He’s done it before, and I’m already feeling too fragile tonight.
I tug my hoodie over my shirt. “I’m fine.”
Gage continues to watch me as I slip on my shoes, one hand propped on a bare hip. If it were anyone else, I’d roll my eyes and tell them to fuck off.
I care about Gage, though. He’s a good friend. He wanted to be more, but it wasn’t fair for me to keep stringing him along. I got swept up in his charm when I wasn’t ready to love. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for that shit. Better to distance myself before he asks for my heart.
Not to mention, topping isn’t my preference. I never told Gage that. Never told him much of anything.
“Do you need me to cut someone?” Gage asks, flourishing his hand in a way that would most definitely not scare off my enemies. I have to hold back a snort, imagining him standing up to Rev.
Actually, I’m not sure who would win that fight.
My amusement at the thought turns sour. Would Rev be attracted to Gage? Most people are.
Scratch that. I don’t care.
“I can handle myself,” I mutter.
“Dante.”
“Gage.” I mimic his frustrated tone.
“If someone’s not being good to you, they’re not worth your time.”
I ball my hands into fists within my hoodie pocket. Gage means well. He does. I just can’t handle this right now. My throat feels itchy, and my eyes are burning with unshed tears.
“Why don’t you take tomorrow off? I’ll tell Kayla I caught you puking your guts out. You know I can weave a whole-ass fictional story within seconds.” He snaps his fingers.
Shaking my head, I mumble, “Can’t take off.”
“Okayyy. How about a Netflix and chill kinda night at my place?”
I meet his gaze, internally cringing at the hope swirling in those gem-green eyes. If sex with Gage would solve my problems, I’d leave with him in an instant.
I know for a fact it won’t. Then there’s his two belligerent, nosy roommates…
“Thanks, but I’ll pass.”
Before Gage can push me further, I hurry out of the back room. Chunky techno bass rattles my bones as I sneak through couples making out in the dark hallway.
I expect to feel relieved when I find no one waiting for me in the alley behind the club, but my heart only picks up its frantic chugging.
He’s not here.
Fuck that. I don’t want him to be. I don’t.
The thought of that text coming from someone other than the silver-haired fox of Sinro permeates my mind like a thick poison. Suddenly, breathing becomes a chore.
Leaning against the brick wall of Club Saturn, I drop my head back and gaze up at the smoggy, indigo night sky.
“Get it together, Dante,” I whisper.
After a few long breaths that do nothing to calm my nerves, I break down and send a text to Laz.
can you pick me up?
I can’t remember the last time I asked my brother for a ride. Since before I quit dancing professionally?
I thought I was doing good. I should have anticipated what my brain would do after I actually made a move on those masked fuckers.
If Laz knew I was still this messed up, he’d lose sleep over it. But we haven’t had a solid conversation since Papi’s murder. I spent a lot of time ignoring him. Eventually, it became the norm for us to drift by each other with no more than a few words exchanged.
My phone vibrates in my hand, and I answer the call immediately.
“What’s wrong, manito?” Laz’s voice is strained with worry.
“Why do you assume something’s wrong?”
“Because it’s after midnight, and you only text when you’re having a hard time.”
“I’m not having a hard time,” I argue. “I just don’t want to walk home in the cold.”
“Where you at?”
The question trips me up. I hadn’t thought about the fact that I’d have to give Laz the address to the club. What will he think about my job dancing for money? Will he make me quit?
What if he figures out I’m gay?
It’s a secret I’ve kept since I was ten years old, when I started noticing too many things about other boys at school. Their haircuts, or freckles, or smiles.
Laz doesn’t share things with me, either. We’d die for each other, but we don’t know shit about each other anymore. I’d say I’m to blame for our lack of communication, but he was the one who restrained me against my will during Papi’s murder.
“You can’t judge me,” I mumble.
“House rule, remember?”
“Yeah.” I sink my nails into my palm. “House rule.”
But what if Laz doesn’t understand? What if he doesn’t want to live with someone like me? Gage told me his family started treating him differently when he came out. Told me he wasn’t always so flamboyant, but he learned to lean into it with time.
“I’m at Club Saturn,” I say quietly.
There’s enough of a pause at the end of the line to flood me with hot embarrassment.
“Forget it.”
“No, manito. It’s just… fuck, I’m an hour out from there. Can you hang for a bit?”
I bite my lip. I don’t want to wait inside at a table where I can be propositioned or badgered by riled-up drunks. I could hide in the back room, but then Gage would really start to hound me. He’d offer me a ride. He’d offer me more.
All of this because I got freaked out by a text.
“I could be there in forty-five if I speed,” Laz states.
“Don’t do that,” I grumble.
It’s sitting on the tip of my tongue to ask what Laz is doing that far out when his work is a twenty-minute drive from here, but the answer to that might take me under. The final wave to sink my damaged ship.
I know Laz gets into trouble, but I give him a pass because he’s got a good heart.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll grab a cab,” I say.
Laz rambles off curses in Spanish. “Text me when you get home. Promise me.”
“Sí. Lo prometo.”
I hang up and hug my coat tighter around me as I start the quiet walk home. My pace is fast, my gaze never lingering too long in one place. I don’t want to give my brain the opportunity to conjure things from the darkness.
I need to get back to hunting.
This fear doesn’t belong to me. It belongs to SIXX. I didn’t fucking consent to it.
Cutting down my street, I spot a figure sitting on the front porch of my house. He’s wearing a silver demon mask.
My heart plummets into my stomach.
Immediately, I backpedal as I notice the gun in his hand. He toys with the chamber, spinning it with a mechanical whir and flicking it into place.
I take off in a sprint, as if I can outrun a bullet.
I make it to the end of the street before a beat-up, windowless black van screeches in front of me.
Back doors swing open and three more figures, these ones wearing cloth masks over their mouths painted like skulls, leap into my path.
One of them has a knife. Another smacks a wooden bat against her palm.
I’m so fucked.
Honestly, I should have expected this. I’ve been stalking them with an unwarranted confidence. They probably assume I’m to blame for the recent deaths of their gang members.
The unarmed SIXX rushes me first. Flight turns into vicious fight as I catch his arm swinging at my face.
I load his weight onto my hips and toss him over my shoulder.
As soon as he hits the street with a grunt, I’m on top of him, raining punches down with a violence that might horrify anyone other than these criminals.
My body knows this is a matter of life and death.
Something strikes me hard in the ribs. I fall to my side, pain curling me into a ball. The SIXX with the bat steps over me. “Poor, Dante.”
I have a suspicion she might be my anonymous texter. Which means SIXX has my name and my address.
“Thought you could get the upper hand on us, huh? Now you gotta pay.”
The woman raises the bat for another blow. Ignoring the ache in my ribs, I shove to my feet and stumble backward.
Right into the SIXX with the knife.
He grabs me by the hair and jerks my head to the side. Before I can get my hands around his wrists, he punches me hard in the back.
At least, it feels like a punch. Then I feel something warm and wet seeping into my clothes, and I know it wasn’t his fist that struck me.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Gonna carve you up nice and slow,” the SIXX rumbles in my ear.
All I can think about is surviving. All I can hope is that Laz won’t come home anytime soon, or we’ll both be dead.
The pressure on my back eases. Adrenaline has me spinning around to bring a knee up into the SIXX’s stomach. He stumbles back for a second before charging me with his bloody knife. I grab his wrist and twist it until I hear a revolting crack.
It’s one thing to practice moves on the mat. It’s another to use them in a real fight. To experience how effective body mechanics can be. How much damage I can inflict when I want to.
I go to snatch up the knife he dropped when something hits me hard on the side of my head. I crumple to the ground.
Seconds after, my vision goes black.