Chapter 9
DANTE
I screwed up, and now Essence is going to have to pay for it.
I should have just dropped her off and left, or maybe I shouldn’t have even offered to pick her up at all. The man in the mask did say he would see her today, after all. I should have kept my word on that.
Fuck, I just wanted to see her, to be near her and touch her. She undoes me and she doesn’t even realize it.
Pulling out my phone, I bring up the camera app and click on the living room feed. My nostrils flare at the sight of Evan with his hand gripping my flower’s hair and shoving her against the wall.
“You fucking whore,” he snarls, getting in her face. Her soft whimpers make me want to jump out of my truck, kick that front door down, and make good on my promise to cut out Evan’s tongue, but I stay where I am.
“He’s just a friend, Evan,” she pleads. “I swear!”
He pulls her away from the wall only to slam her into it again. Lunchbox’s whines fill the room as he claws at the confines of his cage.
“You’re a liar!” he yells.
I can’t do this.
The feed cuts out right as Evan throws Essence to the floor. The anger that I’m feeling intensifies at the thought of him hurting her.
Soon, he’ll learn that hurting her is the worst mistake he could have ever made. I need Essence to be more trusting of me, to want to be with me so that I can finally end Evan’s life.
I force myself to take a couple deep breaths, and the anger is replaced with guilt. I just wanted to be near her, and I couldn’t bear the thought of her riding on that bike again when the man who should be taking care of her can’t even be bothered to pick her up from work.
That reminds me…
Turning in my seat, I look in the bed of my truck and see her bike still lying back there. She forgot it, but that’s okay. That just means I’ll have to pick her up again tomorrow morning, which means I have to let my Captain know I’ll be late for work.
Smiling, I start up my truck and leave the neighborhood.
As soon as I get home, I unload Essence’s bike from my truck bed and place it in the corner of my garage before going inside my house. I kick off my boots by the front door and hang up my jacket on the hook before going to the kitchen to get started on dinner.
And by that, I mean I pull out the stack of menus I keep in the drawer by the fridge and play Russian Roulette to see what I’m eating tonight.
If I’m being honest, I don’t have much of an appetite lately, but I promised my brothers at the firehouse that I would take care of myself, and I intend to keep that promise to them.
For Leo.
Fuck.
A sharp pain lances through my heart at the thought of my little boy.
I look through the small opening in the kitchen to the door leading to Leo’s room. I haven’t been in there since the night he died, and I’m honestly not sure if I ever will again.
I’ve tried to find things to take my mind off of losing him, but I just can’t.
My obsession with Essence has only grown more intense, because now that I’ve lost my son, I don’t want to lose her, too.
The absence in my heart from his death has left me wide open to the emotional vulnerability of being completely and utterly obsessed with her.
And starting fires… I just can’t describe the feeling I get when I switch on my lighter and set the world ablaze.
It ignites that dead feeling inside of me and burns it away, even if only for a few moments.
Because then I have to put on my firefighter facade and suppress the very same fire that brought me so much pleasure and peace just moments before.
It’s addicting—I can’t stop, and it’s the only other thing that keeps me from jumping off the deep end.
Since I don’t have much of an appetite, I throw the menus back into the drawer and go into my bedroom to grab my gas mask. The need to see my flower again is overwhelming, especially after what I saw Evan doing to her earlier. But if I go back there again, I’ll only end up killing him.
My fingers flex around the mask, and my heart races with anticipation at the thought of starting another fire.
This is a different kind of feeling than what I get from following my flower around.
It’s a surge of adrenaline that has my heart racing and cock aching.
It’s the euphoric feeling of being alive for the first time in your life, watching the flames engulf and destroy everything in its wake.
I’ve always been fascinated by fire, starting from an early age when I started one in my bathroom as a kid and nearly burned down the whole house.
Ever since then, I knew that I wanted to be a firefighter.
Dousing those flames is so dissatisfying, but in the moment, when I feel the heat through my turnout gear and see the beautiful oranges and reds and yellows of the flames, I can just forget about everything.
I change into all black everything—long-sleeved shirt, jeans, hoodie, and gloves—before going back to the front door to put my boots on. Tucking my mask under my arm, I go back out to my truck and pull out of the driveway. An electric thrill runs through me thinking of the night I have ahead of me.