Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
DANTE
Icame so hard last night, I think I blacked out.
That, or I drank too much beer. Either way, I can’t be held responsible for my actions. Especially not the lacy red underwear I’m wearing when I wake up.
It’s that stupid mercenary COO’s fault. He keeps forcing his way into my life, making me question everything. Even when I try to push him away, dishing out low blows, he shows no sign of giving up.
Maybe he could handle me and all my baggage. I don’t think I can hurt him like I can hurt Laz, or Gage, or anyone else in my life who tries to show me kindness I can’t fucking process.
Grabbing my phone beside my head, I notice a missed text from Rev.
Obsessed with you
My heart skips as I scroll up and see the video I sent him last night. I jolt upright in my bed.
What the fuck?
I hit play on the video and end up shutting it down five seconds later with my stomach churning.
No, no, no.
My fingers fly over the keyboard.
delete it
His response is almost instant, like he’s had his phone open to my messages.
Good morning to you too
Fuck you
We need to work on your insults
That video wasn’t meant for you
It’s a lie. I may not have been completely sober last night, but I remember how he made me feel. How desperate I was for him to put his hands on me. To take control. To break his word about not touching me until I’m begging for it.
No response comes through. Did I succeed in finally pushing him away? Fuck. Why am I panicking now? I shouldn’t care. I don’t want this to go any further.
Tugging on clean clothes, I rush over to his house and bang on the door. My heart is pounding. I’ve done a lot of reckless shit, but sending a dirty video to the guy I hate?
Yeah, I’ll never live this down.
Forest answers the door. “Hey, Dante. What’s up?”
I frown at him, a surprising wave of jealousy crashing over me. Why is Forest in his house? Did he spend the night? Are they…a thing?
“Where is he?” I demand.
“Bossman? He’s in the office today. You need something?”
Yeah. To burn that video from his memory.
I stalk back to my own porch. It’s not like sending that video was an admission of anything except the sexual tension crackling between us. And that only happened because I’ve denied myself sex for too long.
Maybe I should just let him fuck me, and we can both move on.
“Jesus, Dante.” I drop into a squat, bracing my head in my hands.
This man is successfully infecting me. His poison is already in my veins, slowly breaking me down.
Part of me wants to ask Forest for a ride to Sinro, but if Laz comes home for some reason, I want someone around to watch out for him.
I sink my hands into my curls and pull on them. When the fuck did I come to rely on Sinro for protection?
Maybe since I got beat up and stabbed outside my house?
After calling a cab, I stare at my messages with Rev in the backseat, mulling over how to address this situation. Driving to Sinro definitely isn’t the best idea, I know that. I just need boundaries reset ASAP.
“Gonna get out or what?” the driver asks, peeking at me in the rearview mirror.
Looking up from my phone, I’m surprised to see we’re already parking in front of Sinro’s impressive tower. I exhale before sending Rev a message.
here
Dots pop up and disappear.
Finishing up meetings. Front desk will give you a badge.
I’m handed a guest badge by a kind woman at the long reception desk in the main lobby and instructed to bypass security to head to the seventeenth floor.
As I step off the elevator, my nerves draw taut like a rope. Rev’s apartment is to my left. I could enter, but I don’t want to risk trapping myself in enemy territory.
Wandering past three other apartment doors, I explore a common area with a modern kitchen, dining tables, and a giant sectional. The massive windows overlook a balcony with wooden lounge chairs, a built-in grilling area, and a steaming pool.
And then there’s a gym unlike anything I’ve ever seen. The floor is made of that spongy black speckled stuff. One wall is covered entirely in mirrors, while the others hold more equipment than I’ve ever seen.
There’s even a boxing ring tucked in the corner.
I suppose mercenaries need to work out religiously. Judging by Rev’s physique, I’m guessing he spends a lot of time here. Did Sinro train him? Or did they hire him for his skill?
Walking over to the ring, I run my hand along one of the ropes.
A strange mix of sadness and nostalgia overcomes me.
Some of my earliest memories come from gyms like this.
Well, not as nice as this, but still, gyms are where I first received praise from Papi.
I was certain that pride wouldn’t extend over to dance, but he cheered me on just as much at recitals as he did at Laz’s fights.
I could do no wrong in his eyes.
The wound in my chest splits open, threatening to sever me in two.
When does this get better? When does it stop hurting so much? It wasn’t this bad with Mamá, but I don’t remember her like I do Papi.
Dropping low, I brace my hands on the ropes for support.
“Sitting beside you, okay?” A gentle voice cuts through the fog of pain blanketing me.
I glance over at the pretty guy crouching beside me. He’s got shaggy blond hair. It’s not as tightly coiled as my own, but it’s just as wild. I keep mine tied back most of the time, but he doesn’t seem to care about taming his.
“Do you often have panic attacks?” His hazel eyes are kind as they study me.
“Um…no. That’s not…I’m not panicking.”
He blows out a breath of relief. “I was worried about you. I still get them sometimes.”
My brows furrow. Why would he be worried about someone he doesn’t even know?
He bounces on his heels a little, like he struggles to sit still, and I notice dozens of tiny white lines along his inner arm.
Scars.
Invisible bindings tighten around my lungs. As I raise my eyes back to his, he smiles sweetly at me. “I’m Ezra. Rev asked me to keep you company while he’s in his meeting.”
“Probably not the best time to be around me. I’m kind of an asshole.”
He lifts his left hand to flash a dainty gold ring. “Married to one.”
My eyes go wide. He looks so…young. Close in age to me. I mean, I’m not judging. I’ve just never considered marriage as a possibility for me. Not anytime soon, at least.
“Do you…uh…work here?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Sometimes. I mostly do shelter work in West Bank. It’s where I’m from.”
Looking him over, I try to place him on the streets I navigate daily. His expression is too earnest and open, his nails are manicured, and his ears are decorated with tiny diamonds and emeralds that would catch the wrong eyes in some areas. He’s even got a little gold hoop through his bottom lip.
He’s definitely climbed his way out of West Bank, that’s for fucking sure.
“Wanna roll?” He rocks his weight side-to-side.
“What? Like fight?”
He nods. “You look strong. Might be fun.”
I have to chuckle because he’s throwing me the fuck off with his personality. There’s this worry that I’m gonna hurt him, but then I begin questioning my own strength. Would I actually win a fight against him? I got my ass handed to me by SIXX.
The gym is empty, so it’s not like anyone else would witness my failure if this twink bests me.
Should I fight, though? I mean, my stitches are out, and my body feels pretty good…
“Yeah. Let’s do it.” I nod.
Slipping off his wedding ring to set aside, Ezra climbs into the ring and begins stretching, showing off his fit abdomen in a crop top sweater. He’s lean, but that doesn’t mean he’s not a threat. I’m smaller than Laz, and I can sometimes take his giant ass down with the right leverage.
I shed my hoodie, draping it over the top rope. After a few of my own stretches, we naturally fall into circling each other. I wait for him to strike, and fuck is he fast. He drops me to the ground with a quick sweep of my legs. In seconds, I’m on defense, fighting to keep him out of my guard.
Ezra manages to get ahold of one of my arms. Moving with unholy speed, he locks me in an arm bar. I’m helpless to do anything besides laugh as I tap.
“I was not prepared for whatever that was,” I admit.
Ezra holds out a hand to help me to my feet. “When it comes down to survival, you gotta be fast.”
Normally, I’d snap back at the comment. I don’t need someone to tell me that. But the way his hazel eyes shimmer with phantom pain, I know he’s not trying to poke fun at my failures. He’s admitting an ugly truth. Communicating something to me that resonates at a soul level.
I think he’s been wronged by life, too.
My gaze flits to his scars again, and Ezra rubs at them self-consciously.
“Go again?” he asks.
Ashamed I’ve made him uncomfortable, I nod. “Again.”
This time, when he takes me down, he gets his arms wrapped around my neck and an arm to choke me out.
“…the fuck,” I wheeze, tapping.
Ezra’s an anomaly. Sweet-faced and kind with his words, but lethal the moment we bump fists.
“Don’t go easy on me,” he complains, rolling away from me.
When I glance up at him, he’s bouncing on his feet. He seems to need more, so I take things up a notch. On our next round, I grip his forearms as he lunges at me. Then I kick out his legs and throw him to the mat.
I nearly have him in a cross-collar choke before he slips out of my hold and hops away.
We continue this dance of near misses until he gets me tangled up when I become distracted by Rev, striding into the gym in a smart, dark gray suit. I’m panting, sweaty, and pinned down as he leans over the ropes to stare down at us.
“I asked you to entertain him, pretty boy. Not put the hurt on him,” Rev says with a smirk.
Something sharp like jealousy jabs at me at the term of endearment thrown out, but then Ezra hovers those big, innocent eyes over me. “Are you not entertained?”
I barely hold in a laugh. Okay, I can’t be upset anymore. Ezra is pretty.
“You did good,” I reply.