9. Victoria
9
VICTORIA
The hard line Dante and I clearly drew between us has shifted. It might as well be erased at this point.
He hasn’t kept his hands off me.
We drove Liam to the hospital while Dante kept his fingers threaded through mine the whole drive, as if I might disappear if he let go. Even as he touched me so soothingly, he gave a clear warning to Liam about what to say—and what not to say—that sent chills running down my spine. Dante’s words must have had a similar effect on Liam, since he carefully repeated the story his uncle fed him for the doctors.
It was a drug deal gone bad. Liam got roughed up and shot, end of story.
Once the doctors leave the room, Dante crisply explains to his nephew that he likely has, at most, twelve hours to get cleaned up and discharged before the cops put two and two together and find him. The hospital isn’t too far from the creep-tastic house we were holed up in. I feel my skin prickle with my own sense of urgency—Liam needs to get away, sure, but so do we. We aren’t out of the woods yet.
And if the cops do get involved, if they manage to connect me to Liam or the mess we left behind, I already know what I’ll do. I have my story ready.
I will tell the police everything Liam did to me, what he did to that poor man at the gas station, and I won’t mention my husband’s name at all.
Guess my sense of loyalty is enough for me to forget the bloodbath in that backyard.
I’ll gladly throw Liam under the bus to save my husband. I’ll protect Dante at any cost.
‘Till death do us part and all that.
We leave Liam behind at the hospital and Dante checks us into a hotel room, still keeping one hand entwined with mine. As he guides me through the door of our room, which is way nicer than the last few places I’ve seen, he turns and pulls me into his body, wrapping me in his arms. The rough scrape of his stubble against my cheek and the warmth of his chest makes my anxiety vanish. When he stares down at me with those rich brown eyes, the world melts away.
I’m safe.
I give into the comfort, the peace of his hold. The power he has over me should probably worry me, but I choose to lose myself in the wash of calm instead. Why fight it?
“How about you use my phone to text Ellie and let her know you’re okay?” Dante swipes at the screen to unlock it before handing it over. “And maybe once we’re home we’ll get together, the three of us.” He smirks. “I should probably meet her for real.”
I can’t help my dry chuckle. “I’d like that. But I don’t know if you’re ready for her.”
“Text her,” he urges.
As I tap out a quick assurance that Dante found me and that we’re spending the night at a hotel before heading back to Connecticut, I can’t quite hide the tremor in my hands. I’m exhausted, crashing hard after an hours-long adrenaline rush, and all I want is to curl up in a tight ball under the covers.
“Why don’t we get you in the shower,” he suggests, his tone rugged and a bit strained as he gently takes the phone and sets it on the nightstand. “I’ll order you something to eat.”
I’m not hungry.
The thought of food isn’t at all appetizing. Yet, if it will make Dante feel better, I’ll choke down whatever he puts in front of me. It’s the least I can do. He can’t hide the worry sketched across his face as his eyes fill with so many complicated emotions that I can’t possibly decipher them all.
“Okay.”
I don’t want any distance between us, but washing the road trip from hell off my skin sounds like heaven. Like a step back towards normal.
I turn to the bathroom, but Dante’s grip closes around my wrist. Guess he’s not done talking yet. “Why didn’t you allow the doctors to take a look at you?”
My brows snap together. Wouldn’t me needing a full exam have blown our cover, linking me to Liam and the fictional drug deal? Bad enough that I had a face full of bruises that the nurses kept trying to fuss over. I’d made up something about playing roller derby. They didn’t back off until I assured them I’d been seen by a rink medic and was following basic concussion protocol. Honestly, I plan to act like the last bit is the truth, which means resting and limiting my screen time. Easy enough to do, and better safe than sorry. “They didn’t need to.”
“Don’t lie to me,” he growls softly, and I shiver in response to his sudden and palpable anger. “You don’t have to protect Liam or anyone else. You don’t have to be ashamed or worry that I’ll feel or treat you any differently.”
Oh.
Shit.
He thinks I’ve been raped.
I swallow thickly. I should have known Dante would want to unpack all this tonight. That what he’s imagined is eating him up inside and weighing on his soul.
“I didn’t…” The words catch in my throat. How do you calmly say I almost got raped? Is there a magic phrase to keep from sparking someone’s smoldering temper while explaining that, sure, you were assaulted, but you weren’t raped? I’m still processing it myself, struggling to sort out what did and didn’t happen. The mix of relief and helplessness I feel is enough to make me want to crawl out of my own skin until everything calms down and fades to a memory. “Don’t worry about that.”
Dante glowers, and while I don’t think he means to focus his anger on me, I still feel the heat of it. “What does that mean?”
“He didn’t.” One of Dante’s fingers loosens around my arm, but only one. And I’m not sure if that means he’s beginning to relax or what, but he needs to know. “It never got that far, Dante.”
He finally gives me a curt nod, but he doesn’t take his eyes off my face. “Where did you get the phone?”
My gut churns and I swear I can feel an ulcer forming. I don’t think I’ll ever get that image out of my head. The blank eyes of an innocent man killed for being a good person.
Tears blur my vision and my eyes sting. I never should have put that man at risk. I didn’t even think about the sort of danger I might be putting him in when I hopped into his car and begged for help.
He probably has a wife, maybe even children, and now that family will never know he died a hero. The police will probably call it a robbery gone wrong, or maybe a case of mistaken identity. I’ll have to live with the secret of the truth for the rest of my life.
Dante’s palm lifts to my jaw and his thumb wipes a tear away. “Princess…please don’t cry. I can’t bear to see you upset over this.”
His words set off the waterworks, and I can’t help but feel betrayed by my body. I’ve felt disconnected from myself since he arrived, lacking control over my emotions and reactions.
I can’t manage to stop thinking about the man Liam killed long enough to remind myself of the reality of who stands in front of me now.
A killer.
A man with no limits.
A Moretti—a family completely lacking any morals.
And even knowing all those facts, I’m starting to develop very strong and deep feelings for my temporary husband. It’s wrong. It’s not what we agreed to.
But when he swoops in to rescue me, when he fills me and claims me like he’ll never get enough of me…what exactly is a girl like me supposed to do? No one has ever risked themselves for me the way he has.
Dante pulls me against his chest and wraps his arms tightly around my frame. I want to tell him everything, but I don’t want him to blow it off or try to make me forget about it.
The man at that gas station chose to help me, and I wouldn’t be standing here with Dante if it wasn’t for him and his phone. I would’ve been raped tonight and Liam would likely have killed me within days of my money hitting my account. Maybe hours.
“I’m sorry,” Dante mutters above my head. “I’ve failed you twice now with my nephew.”
I squeeze Dante’s waist and shake my head. “Please don’t say that. I never once blamed you. I just hoped you’d find me in time.”
“Are you sure he didn’t force himself on you?” I lean back in his arms and stare up at him. His brown eyes are filled with uncertainty. I want nothing more than to reassure him and drown his doubts. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I have to know. What did he do to you? Those bruises tell a story and I’m going crazy imagining what it could be. I need to know the truth.”
“He tried…but I got a hold of his gun. He didn’t think I’d do it, but he moved and I…I shot him. It just—the reality of what I did, that I pulled the trigger… I froze and he got the upper hand. He beat me, but that’s all.”
I feel a shuttered exhale leave his body, even as his fingers flex into me, and he nods.
“He had me check my bank account almost constantly, but he wouldn’t tell me what he planned to do with me, not really. I think I was becoming too much of a liability, so he probably planned to drop me in the nearest ditch after the money came through.”
“That’s where I’m thinking about putting him,” Dante admits. “I’ve had more than enough of that fuckin’ kid. He touched my wife .”
I love it when he says that word. It’s always said with such passion, but I’m an idiot to revel in this feeling of being his when there are more important things to deal with.
“He’s scared, Dante.”
He shakes his head in flat denial. His eyes fill with unfiltered rage as he returns my gaze. “Don’t. I told you not to protect him.”
“I’m not. I just?—”
“And don’t tell me you understand, either.” He drops his hold on my waist and tips my chin higher so that I can’t miss any of his words. “He kidnapped my fucking wife. He hit you. Fuck knows how he would’ve murdered you. He was going to let some guy rape you for three grand. I married you. You’re mine , princess. Game over, end of discussion.”
“I don’t think Liam really believed that guy would—” Dante’s mouth crashes into mine then, and his hands fall to my hips, crushing me against him.
My husband’s tongue is demanding, devouring me as he urges me backward. I give in to the pressure, submitting to him completely as he licks and nips at me.
Dante needs this as much as I do, and I’d never deny him a thing in this world.
He gives me a light shove to the mattress, and I fall back against the comforter and watch him as he begins removing his shirt.
“Take your clothes off. And then let’s hear you defend him while I’m deep inside you, princess.”
That sounds…unnecessary.
“Dante, I’m not trying to upset you. I just?—”
“I am upset,” he admits. “I’m irate . The amount of rage I’m trying to control is beyond belief.”
“I’m safe?—”
“If you hadn’t gotten that cell phone, I’d have never found you. Do you understand that? I could’ve lost you.”
My heart clenches at his vulnerability and it kills me that he’s so unsettled and distressed. “I would’ve made it back home to you. I wasn’t going to go down without a fight, Dante.”
“I don’t doubt you, princess. But it never should have gotten this far. He never should have even considered taking you.”
I swallow. Liam didn’t see any other options beyond finding a way to take me and control my money. I’m not agreeing with what he did at all . I’m not even asking my husband to try to understand his nephew. All I want is for us to cool down on the taking him out portion of the conversation.
“I could have done things differently,” I counter. “Maybe if I had refused to drive?—”
“Was a gun to your head?”
“Yes, but?—”
“Then you did the right thing.” I open my mouth, determined to assuage his worry, but he continues, “I won’t let this fly, Victoria. You are my number one priority. I can’t have you in danger anymore.”
“I understand that, but you’ll be in danger of a murder charge if you keep thinking this way.”
“I’ve buried men without a trace before. This won’t be any different.”
It should be revolting—terrifying—that Dante has not only dug graves, but filled them with people he killed, but all I can process is the man falling apart in front of me.
“Focus on me,” I tell him. “I’m here.”
His eyes soften slightly and I’m relieved, to say the least. “You are. And you’ll never leave my side again.”
“Good.”
“But there will be consequences for Liam, necessary ones, so I can keep you safe?—”
“Please stop talking about him,” I plead. “And come here.”
“I don’t want to lie to you, Victoria.”
“Then don’t. Just leave him be.”
His body tenses and a muscle ticks in his jaw. Here we go again. Clearly, my husband has a one-track mind when it comes to death and murder. “Let’s get one thing straight, princess. I don’t forgive. I don’t let shit go, either. You weren’t supposed to—” He snaps his mouth shut, his words screeching to a halt.
“I wasn’t supposed to what?” I press, more than curious about what the end of that sentence might be. I’m not sure what I could’ve done differently beyond aiming for Liam’s head when I had the chance, but even if I’d known how to shoot properly, I know I wouldn’t have put his life in the crosshairs.
“Nothing,” Dante replies flatly. “You did everything you should’ve done and more.”
I push myself up on my elbows. “Apparently not. Spill.”
“Victoria—”
“ No ,” I snarl, my own anger bubbling up and finding a target at last. “Don’t Victoria me. I’m not built for this. I don’t drive across the country while I’m held at gunpoint. I don’t stay in grungy hotels with hourly rates. If you think I should have killed Liam in his sleep, I’m sorry to disappoint you. The asshole chained me up to keep me from running off last night.”
Dante moves closer to the bed, but I scoot away from him. I don’t know what he wants from me, and I don’t think he knows either. “Don’t be like that. I’m not pissed at you.”
“I’m not so sure about that. One second you act as though you’re afraid I’m going to disappear if you blink and the next, you’re mad at me for not asking you to kill Liam in some drug dealer’s kitchen.”
“You should have.”
“He’s your nephew.”
“Not anymore. That boy fucked up royally.”
I’m done with this conversation, done with being the focus of Dante’s messy emotions.
I crawl from the bed knowing he’ll reach for me and try to keep this conversation going, so I speak before he can take a breath. I want some space. I need him to leave me alone so I can think my own thoughts. “I’m going to go take a shower.”
He doesn’t move to follow, giving me a chance to wrap my head around what he’s said, what he’s revealed.
This is what happens when I get in too deep and catch feelings. I’m fully aware I should not let myself get attached to Dante. No way, no how. I’m fully aware, that this isn’t going to end in a happily ever after.
But it’s too late.
I’m falling for him. And I can’t turn off the part of my brain that wants him and wishes for more than the deal we struck.