8. Dante
8
DANTE
I watch her sleeping until the burnt umber hues of dawn begin to temper the darkness. Light steals into my room, and she barely stirs. I want to wake her and lose myself in her again, but there’s something about the way she sleeps that stops me. She curls up like a child, tucking her knees to her chest, with her arms and her dark hair fanning out across the white pillowcase. It portrays an innocence. A trust. Two qualities that I don’t deserve from her right now. Not after what I’ve already taken tonight.
I indulged and feasted until I was sore and sated, and still, I couldn’t get enough of her. I took and took and pushed her to her limits. I let the darkness inside me devour us both as I craved the oblivion she brought me. I gave her pleasure in return, many hours of it, but at what cost?
Fuck .
There goes my conscience again, flickering and false starting like an engine in the dead of winter. She does this to me, and I don’t have the damndest clue as to why.
Sometime around five a.m., I rise from the bed and make my way downstairs. Walking past the rows of shelves in the library, I run my fingers along the edge of one, feeling for a button. A low mechanical hum sounds, and I step back to allow the concealed door to swing open.
Once inside my private sanctum, I pay no heed to the lines of discolored military medals on the wall, nor do I glance at the faded black and white photograph of a little girl. She was the perfect seed that planted the roots of so much hate in my life. I’m still biding my time as far as she’s concerned.
I’ll not forgive.
I’ll never forget.
Consumed by a sudden fit of rage, I rip the medals down and head for the closet next door to deposit my unwanted memories in a drawer.
Stripping off, I step into the shower and lift my head to the boiling water. Only then do I allow myself a moment to indulge in the past. That girl is the reason there are no pictures on my walls, no personal possessions of any kind on display in my house… No trace of the man I really am. My enemies found a weakness in me once. I’ll never give them the satisfaction again. These days, my true identity is as subtly concealed as this bunker, and that’s the way it was staying until an angel walked past me on a dirty, desolate street.
I’m playing with fire as far as she’s concerned. I know I can’t keep her. Her presence in my life will only cause problems. I made a pact with my brother fifteen years ago: No one gets close to us. Ever. Besides, I’ve fucked her now so this whole situation should be done. The way I see it, I have two choices: kill her, or send her back to America. One problem. Neither of them are having any real sway over me right now.
I reach for a towel to dry myself, roughly slaking the water droplets from my skin. There must be another way, but I’m running out of time. Joseph’s dossier on her must be nearly done. He’s going to make the connections with the DEA agent, and then he’ll give me shit about it. If Emilio finds out, it’ll be worse.
My cell beeps. It’s Joseph.
Emilio on Line 1.
Speak of the fucking devil.
This should be interesting… I may have obliterated the Garcia Cartel, but I still haven’t given him an explanation for Miami yet.
The reason why my DEA target is still alive and breathing.
I tap out a reply as I step into the living area of my bunker. Dressing quickly, I can’t resist one final trip upstairs before heading to my office.
Eve is still asleep. The white bedsheet has slipped to her waist, exposing her breasts. I’m tempted to drop to my knees and wrap my lips around one of those pink buds, biting and teasing until it puckers and lengthens between my teeth. Instead, I rearrange the sheet across her shoulders and exit the room, resolving not to lay another finger on her until I have a plan.
I tell myself it’s for her own good, but I know I’m lying. If I get any closer, I’ll lose perspective. If I press my mouth to that body again, I run the risk of bringing us both down in a hail of bullets.
Joseph scowls at me as I enter the office. What’s crawled up his ass and died? His moods are nowhere near as capricious as mine, but when he blows up, he’s a formidable adversary.
He’s standing by the phone system on my desk. It’s flashing a single, solitary red light.
“My brother, I presume?” I say, cocking one eyebrow at him.
He doesn’t react so I take my place in the chair by the desk and go to switch the holding call to speakerphone. He slaps his hand down on mine at the last second.
“We need to talk.”
“Not now,” I say irritably, shaking him off. “Let me take this call. Emilio’s waiting.”
“Since when have you ever given a damn about that? Emilio can wait a while longer.”
“Fine…then talk.” Leaning back in my chair, I start drumming my fingers against the desk.
“Eve Miller,” he states, moving to stand in front of me, his gray-blue eyes drilling into mine. Two words I’m learning come with a shit load of complication.
My drumming slows and then stops, but there’s never a flicker of a reaction on my face.
“You’ve completed your dossier then?”
“You’re playing with fire,” he says, echoing my own thoughts.
I laugh, but it’s a hollow, empty sound. “I’m betting you couldn’t find the first fucking thing on her, Grayson. There’s not a single item in that document that’ll shock me. She’s as wholesome as they come, a real American homegrown sweetheart. I assume this is about her father, or rather her father’s occupation?” I glare at him, daring him to confirm it.
“That surprised me, I’ll admit,” he says, gazing back at me steadily, but there’s a trace of anger there now. We don’t keep secrets from each other, not when it comes to business. “I’m not so bothered about him, though.”
“Oh?” Now he’s piqued my interest. “Tell me quick. I need to deal with my asshole brother.”
“Do you remember a man called Myers?”
Myers, Myers… I roll the name around my head a few times. Nothing of note springs to mind. “Who is he?”
“Was. Small time dealer in Miami. Thought he could make it with the big boys until he got in our way. Irritated you, if I remember rightly, which never leads to a happy ending. You ordered a hit on him five years ago. Sent me to do it. Before I could pull the trigger, he went to ground with a suitcase of blow and three prostitutes. He died in a hospital bed two weeks later.”
What a way to go.
“And I give a damn about this lowlife because…?”
“Miller isn’t Eve’s birth name, Dante. It’s Myers, remember?”
He stops talking then out of respect. I’m more than capable of connecting the dots, or rather decoding the imminent warning signs myself.
“You sure about this?” My voice is like stone.
“Eve and Ryan were siblings. No doubt about it. And that’s not all—”
I hold up my hand. “Let me get rid of my brother. ”
Truth is, I need a few moments to dissect this revelation. So, our lives have intersected before, and I’ve been the cause of untold pain for her. That’s not sitting well with me. That’s not sitting well at all.
“Emilio,” I snarl, hitting the speakerphone button.
“Dante.”
One word. That’s all it takes to make the nausea rise up from the pit of my stomach. Just one fucking word in that slimy rasp of his. My brother’s accent is far more pronounced than mine. He never felt the inclination to leave Colombia, while I couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there. That’s until our father insisted I put in a return appearance before my hate exited the back of his skull.
I set up residence in Africa not long after to conduct my side of the business. The distance suits me. Certain dealings force me to visit Colombia from time to time, but I limit these as much as I can. There are too many memories lying in wait for me there, and I prefer to spend as little time in the company of my brother as I can.
“You better be covered in bullet holes,” he hisses, dispensing with the pleasantries. “Why else would you leave that DEA scum alive?”
The heat rushes to my fists. My red mist is descending fast. Unreasonable doesn’t cover my brother… I’ll happily chuck in sadistic and paranoid, too.
“Well?” he taunts. “Is there a priest by your bedside reading you your last rights?”
“I just bought you Garcia’s head on a plate,” I tell him coldly. “You should be kissing my ass for that.”
“I don’t like loose ends. It looks careless. ”
Emilio feeds off conflict, and I can’t be fucked to give him the satisfaction today.
“The DEA got the message. I targeted three other agents before I left Miami.”
There’s a pause. “Are you going soft on me, baby brother?”
What the hell? “I was ambushed. Shit hit the fan… It was him or me, and I chose the latter.”
I know which one Emilio would have preferred. Our father may have been a sick bastard, but he’s never forgiven me for putting him six feet under.
“Nicolas told me about the girl. He said you refused to leave Miami without her.”
Nicolas needs to learn to keep his mouth shut. Perhaps he needs my bullet as an incentive? My gaze flicks to Joseph. There’s a slight shake of his head. Good. We’re on the same page as far as Eve Miller is concerned. Full non-disclosure until I figure out what to do with her.
“You’re developing a nasty habit of picking up bitches on the job, Dante. You need to get off that compound. Move somewhere with more pussy. That way your dick won’t be infringing on our business anymore.”
“I’m saying goodbye now, Emilio.” Hell will be an ice rink before I take advice from him. “I’ll be back in Colombia next week. The new merchandise is scheduled to hit Florida tomorrow.”
“Fine. Rick Sanders is standing by to receive it.” There’s a pause. “Are you screwing her?”
He sounds curious, and that’s not a good thing. I don’t want Eve standing out to him any more than she already does.
“When I can find a gag big enough to shut her up,” I drawl, sliding my eyeline away from Joseph’s.
Emilio’s laugh goes right through me. “Gag or no gag, I bet she screams pretty. You’re a real piece of work, Dante. I pity any woman who catches your attention.”
Likewise, I think grimly. Emilio has three ex-wives. Three ex-beauty queens who have all gone missing, presumed dead. You stay on the right side of my brother, or you pay with your life.
“Asshole,” I mutter, finally hanging up.
Joseph says nothing. I know he agrees, but he’ll never say the words out loud.
“Go on then, enlighten me.” I lean back in my chair again and place my hands behind my head. Bracing myself for the next revelation about my angel. “What else do you have on her?”