Chapter 93 Rosalie
NINETY-THREE
ROSALIE
Iopened the door to the bedroom and stepped out. I had no idea what to expect, but I was greeted by a group of people my age who sat in various places in the massive living room. Floor-to-ceiling windows ran along one wall, where we could overlook the city.
I swallowed, nervous about what to do with my hands as I twisted them in front of me. I was still wearing Dante’s sweatpants and t-shirt.
“You came out,” Dante murmured, coming to me. He took my hand and led me to the center of the room. “I want you to meet my family. Our family. This is Malachi. We call him Stitches. He’s our brother.”
Dante gestured to a muscular, tatted guy dressed in black, who stood. I widened my eyes at him. He was the guy who spoke to me at the bar.
“Hey,” he said, raking his hand through his shaggy black hair. “Sorry about the bar shit. Just checking things out, you know?”
“Um…” I winced. “Y-You’re my brother?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I guess. Adopted.” He reached for me and gave me an awkward hug. “I really am sorry. Church can be a lunatic. We can’t control his ass.”
“Noted,” I murmured as he released me and went back to his spot on the leather wraparound.
“This is Sinclair. Sin for short.” Dante nodded to another big, tatted guy with a blond man bun and several piercings. Sin inclined his head at me.
“This is Bryce. We call him Shadow.” Dante pointed to the tall guy with a mess of copper curls on his head. The guy seemed out of place amidst the darkness in the room. He smiled back at me.
“Asher. He goes by Ashes.”
I looked to the next guy and noted he was holding a lighter. I was sure that wasn’t by coincidence.
“Welcome,” Ashes said, getting to his feet. He hugged me against him. “Sorry about Dante. He’s a work in progress. Be tough, OK? Don’t take his shit.” I knew his words were meant to soothe since they were so soft in my ear.
“And this is our girl. Sirena.” Dante held his hand out to the beautiful girl with colorful eyes who had been sitting next to Ashes. She rose. She reminded me of a ghost, so soft and delicate. Her black hair spilled around her like a shadow. She was breathtaking.
“Sirena doesn’t speak,” Dante continued as Sirena stared into my eyes. She reached out and traced her fingers along my lips, a tiny smile on hers. She signed something to Church, who let out a soft laugh.
“What?” I asked nervously. She was small, but her presence was overwhelming. I could tell she was in charge of these guys. Hell, she could probably command the city if she wanted. Some people just had that energy about them. She was one of them.
“She says I look like you,” Dante answered, a tiny smirk on his lips. “That I’m pretty like you.”
I smiled at that, feeling my cheeks heat.
“I-It’s nice to meet you all,” I said, swallowing nervously as I shuffled from foot to foot. They didn’t seem like they were going to kill me. The feeling of being in danger was passing. It was Dante who made me most nervous. I felt like he was just a breath away from losing his mind.
“Relax, Rose,” Stitches said, winking at me. “Ain’t no one here going to bite you. Church might, but he’s into that shit. The rest of us just deal with his strange ass.”
Dante shot him a sour look as the door to the apartment opened.
My mouth dropped open as Sylar walked into the room, dressed in all black, wearing a t-shirt with “Unbothered” in bold pink print.
“Sylar?” I called out, confused about what he was doing here.
“Hey, there, pretty lady,” he greeted me, a grin on his face. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“What are you doing here?” I blinked at him.
“These are my people. Church hasn’t let you go yet?” Sylar looked at him. “I told you to let her go. Fate can’t move if she’s stuck in your bedroom.”
“She’s in the living room,” Stitches piped up. “So…”
Sylar shot him a withering look before looking back at me. “Are you well?”
“I’m confused.” I looked nervously around at everyone staring back at us. Why was Sylar here? It didn’t make sense. He worked with Matteo. He was Fox and Ani’s cousin. Why was he dealing with Dante? So many thoughts raced through my mind. I struggled to find any connection to what was going on.
“Well, let me clear the air. I know you guys are confused.” He turned to everyone. “Rosalie was my lover.”
No one said a word for a moment. I felt like sinking into the floor.
“What the fuck did you just say?” Dante demanded, snapping out of it and moving like a predator around me towards Sylar.
“You heard me. It was only for a night, but I won’t forget it.” Sylar winked at me.
Now I wish Dante had smothered me in my sleep. My face was hot from embarrassment.
“You fucking touched my sister?” Dante snarled.
I instinctively moved in front of Sylar to block him from Dante.
“It’s not like that. I-I was lonely. We kissed at his place. H-He reminded me of Fox. That’s it. Nothing else.” I looked to Sirena, who watched the scene unfold with no emotion on her pretty face. “I-I didn’t know you guys were together. I would have never—”
“Sirena and Sylar aren’t together,” Bryce cut in.
I exhaled. “I’m still sorry. I was drunk and hurting. It’s no excuse—”
“Whatever.” Sylar waved me off. “It’s the perfect excuse. Firefly, it was for the future.” He moved to Sirena and went to his knees. “You know I would never betray you—”
I watched her reach out and cradle his face.
“Mm, good girl,” he said softly. She hadn’t said a word, but I knew Sylar was strange in that manner. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead and whispered something to her that I couldn’t hear before he got to his feet.
“Dante, for what it’s worth, she’s a fantastic kisser,” Sylar said, coming back to us and grinning at me.
“Shut up,” I hissed at him. He wasn’t making the situation better, but I’d be a fool to think that was his intention.
He chuckled as Dante tightened his hands into fists.
“Relax, Dante. Klaus Seeley and the horsemen have been doing far worse to her than a few kisses. Right?” Sylar grinned at me.
“Klaus?” Dante growled, turning back to me. “We need to discuss that.”
“We really don’t.” I looked around at everyone before deciding to hell with it. I didn’t feel like I was going to die now, so I reached out and grabbed Dante’s arm.
He seemed surprised at the gesture and stumbled along behind me as I led him back to the bedroom and closed the door.
“Dante, I am super grateful to have a sibling. I am,” I started, “but I’m an adult and do what I want.”
He stared at me for a moment. “Why did you touch me?”
I blinked at him. “To get you in here…?”
He advanced on me, making my heart jump into my chest. For every step forward he took, I went backward until the backs of my legs were against the mattress. He kept coming and pushed me onto it and loomed over me as I trembled beneath him.
“I don’t know how to be with you,” he murmured, staring down at me with so much confusion on his face it would have been comical if this were a different situation. It was a sentiment he kept repeating.
“You can start by not doing this,” I whispered. “I-It’s weird.”
“I’m weird,” he replied, studying me.
“Dante, please.” I pushed on. “Let me up—”
“No.” He pinned my arms over my head. “Make me.”
“What? Are you serious?”
“Yes, dear sister, I am. You think you’re strong enough to handle the big and bad without me, then fucking make me.” He shifted closer and ran his nose along my jaw. “I’m the biggest, baddest in this city. Now fucking make me.”
“And if I can, do I get to go home?”
He chuckled softly, sending goosebumps skittering along my skin. “Perhaps, but if you can’t, then I get to keep you.”
“What if I don’t want to be kept?”
He pressed a fierce kiss to my temple. “Shh, sweet sister.”
I let out a cry and did the move Matteo taught me all those months ago.
I caught Dante off guard with it because within seconds, I had him on his back, and I was looming over him, the knife I’d seen in his boot now in my hand and against his throat.
“Little brother, you’re a mess,” I said, staring down at him. “If you’re the baddest in this city, then what am I?”
I thought he’d freak out on me. Instead, he grinned, his green eyes lighting up.
“You’re my perfect little nightmare. Welcome home, Rosalie.” He took my hand and forced it forward so that it broke his skin. His blood dribbled out in a trail of red before he disarmed me and put me on my back again, the knife now in his hand.
“Let’s make a deal,” he said, twirling the knife before he brought it down over my neck, the blade biting into my skin. “Scream for me first, though, so I know you’re serious.” He dug the blade deeper, and I did exactly what he wanted because I was dead serious.
Or maybe just dead.