Chapter 9
GENESIS
I thought I was free. Safe. But as the car sped down the dark streets, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. My phone buzzed in my lap, and I hesitated before glancing down at it. The message was from an unknown number, but I knew exactly who it was.
“You can’t hide forever, Genesis. I’ll find you.”
My breath hitched in my throat, and the air around me suddenly felt too thin. Chant. He knew. He knew where I was, and he was coming for me. My hands trembled as I clutched the phone, willing it to stop existing, as if that would make him disappear.
“Everything okay?” Dante’s voice cut through the haze of panic that threatened to engulf me. He was sitting next to me, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body. Close enough that I should have felt safe. But Chant’s words echoed in my head, drowning out everything else.
I forced myself to look at him, at the concern etched into his features. He was trying so hard to protect me, to make me feel secure, but how could he when Chant was always one step ahead?
“No,” I whispered, the word slipping out before I could stop it. “He knows, Dante. He’s found me.”
Dante’s eyes narrowed, a storm brewing behind them. “What do you mean? Did he contact you?”
I nodded, unable to speak. I just handed him the phone, the screen still glowing with that horrible, taunting message. Dante snatched it from me, his expression darkening as he read the words. His jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might crush the phone in his hand.
“This changes everything,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “We need to move. Now.”
I knew he was right, but the thought of running again made my stomach churn. I was tired. Tired of being scared, tired of looking over my shoulder, tired of feeling like a pawn in a game I didn’t understand. I wanted to be strong, to stand my ground, but the fear was suffocating.
“Where will we go?” I asked, my voice barely audible.
“Somewhere safe. Somewhere he can’t reach you,” Dante replied, his tone firm. But I could see the uncertainty in his eyes. He didn’t know if there was a place where Chant couldn’t reach us. Neither of us did.
The car made a sharp turn, and I was thrown against Dante’s side. He wrapped an arm around me, pulling me close, trying to shield me from the world outside. But it wasn’t the world I was afraid of. It was the man who had once promised to love me.
“I’m scared,” I admitted, my voice cracking. It felt like a confession, a weakness I wasn’t supposed to show. But Dante didn’t judge me for it. He just held me tighter.
“I won’t let him hurt you,” he said, his voice a growl. “I swear to God, Genesis, I won’t let him get to you.”
I wanted to believe him, to take comfort in his words, but Chant had a way of slipping through the cracks, of finding the weak spots and exploiting them. What if this was just another one of those times?
“Why won’t he leave me alone?” I asked, my voice breaking. “What does he want from me?”
“He wants control,” Dante said, his tone bitter. “He can’t stand the thought of you being with someone else, of you being happy without him. It’s not about love, Genesis. It never was.”
I knew he was right. Deep down, I’d always known. Chant didn’t love me; he loved the power he had over me, the way he could make me feel small and insignificant with just a look, a word, a touch. And now, even from a distance, he was still pulling the strings, still trying to control me.
“We’ll stop him,” Dante promised. “No matter what it takes, we’ll stop him.”
I nodded, trying to muster up the courage to believe him. But as the car hurtled through the night, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were being hunted, that Chant was out there, somewhere, watching and waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
The silence hung between us, heavy and suffocating. Dante’s eyes were on me, sharp and steady, like he was waiting for me to break. And maybe I needed to. Maybe it was time to let this shit out.
“It wasn’t just the control,” I started, my voice rough around the edges. “It was the way he’d get in my head. Twist everything around, make me think I was crazy, like I couldn’t trust my own damn mind. He’d cut me off from everyone, make me believe I didn’t have anyone but him.”
Dante didn’t say a word, just pulled me closer, his hand a solid weight on my back, grounding me.
“He was a pro at it,” I went on, bitterness seeping into my tone. “He’d pull me back in every time, saying all the right shit, making me believe he actually cared. But it was all part of the game. The charm, the rage, the apologies—round and round.”
Flashes of those nights hit me like a punch to the gut. Him coming home with that look in his eyes, like he was just waiting for an excuse to blow up. The mornings after, with bruises I couldn’t remember getting, just a sick feeling in my stomach and the knowledge that it would happen again.
“And when I tried to leave…” My voice cracked, and I swallowed the lump in my throat. “That’s when he got mean. Real mean. Threatened to hurt me, hurt my family. I was trapped, Dante. I didn’t see any way out.”
Dante’s hand slid up to my cheek, turning my face to meet his eyes. They were burning with anger—anger that wasn’t aimed at me but at the bastard who did this. But there was something else there, too. Something I didn’t know how to deal with. Compassion? Understanding? Whatever it was, it was real.
“You’re out now,” he said, his voice low, with a hard edge. “You’re not alone anymore, Genesis. He’s not touching you again. Not on my watch.”
I nodded, but the fear was still there, a gnawing thing in my chest. “I want to believe that, but sometimes, it feels like he’s still got his claws in me. Like no matter what I do, I’ll never be free of him.”
Dante’s grip tightened, a silent promise. “He doesn’t own you, Genesis. You’re stronger than he ever gave you credit for. You’re here, aren’t you? You survived. And as long as I’m breathing, that son of a bitch is never laying a finger on you again.”
His words settled over me like a blanket, soothing the raw edges of my fear. For the first time in what felt like forever, I didn’t feel like I was standing on a cliff, about to be pushed off. I felt safe—safe in a way that I hadn’t since before Chant came into my life. Dante’s presence was like a fortress, and all I wanted was for him to pull me closer, to let his strength seep into me.
I leaned into him, my body craving the warmth and security he offered. “It’s just… I’ve never felt like this before. Like someone actually cares enough to protect me, to stand between me and the nightmare I’ve been living.”
His grip on me tightened, but it wasn’t the kind of hold that suffocated. It was firm, reassuring, a promise that he wasn’t letting go. The fierceness in his eyes didn’t scare me. It made me feel cherished, like I mattered, like I was worth something more than just being a punching bag or a pawn.
“Dante, I… I just need you to hold me,” I whispered, the words barely making it past the lump in my throat. “I need to feel like I’m not alone in this. Like I can actually breathe again.”
He didn’t hesitate. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me into his chest, his strength enveloping me in a way that made me feel small but not weak. Protected. Loved. He didn’t say anything, just held me tight, his heartbeat steady against my ear, anchoring me.
The tension in my body started to ease, the knots in my stomach loosening. For the first time in so long, I let myself relax, let myself lean on someone else without feeling guilty or afraid. His hand stroked my back, each movement slow and deliberate, like he was trying to smooth away the pain, the fear, the memories.
“I’m here, Genesis,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through his chest. “You don’t have to go through this alone. Not anymore.”
His words washed over me, and for a moment, I let myself believe them. I let myself sink into the comfort he was offering, let myself feel cherished, valued. For the first time in a long time, I felt like maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t as broken as I thought. Maybe with Dante by my side, I could piece myself back together.
And as I rested against him, feeling his strength, his protection, I realized just how much I yearned for this. Not just the safety, but the connection. The way he made me feel like I was worth fighting for. Like I was someone who deserved to be cared for, to be loved.
In his arms, I felt like I could finally breathe. Like I could finally start to heal.