Luna #2
Dante dismounts his bike, turns it off, removes his helmet, and sets it on his seat.
I hand him my helmet, and he accepts it, hanging it on his handlebars.
He steps closer to me, closing the small distance between us.
I can’t take my eyes off him as he stares down at me.
“Are you sure you can make it home okay?” His voice is light but filled with what sounds like concern.
I nod, catching my bottom lip between my teeth.
I don’t know what to say, but I don’t need to as Dante steps even closer, slowly reaching out, his fingers dancing across my cheeks as he pulls me in for a soft kiss.
His tongue dances across my lip, and I invite him to take it further.
I put my hands on his chest, nipping at his lip, and he takes the bait.
I open my mouth for him, and his tongue greets mine in an eager frenzy, like he’s been dying to taste me all night.
His hands quickly tangle in my hair, and if he grips it any tighter, I'm going to come in my panties right here in the parking lot—but I can sense how much he’s holding himself back, too.
His heart is thundering in his chest as loudly and fiercely as my own.
I pull away first, breathless and dazed.
Dante smiles, his hands falling to his side. “I would like to see you again, Luna.”
“I’d like that, Dante,” I say, straightening myself and trying to come back down from cloud nine. Dante smiles, backing away.
I turn, grab my door handle, and try not to crawl into my car.
I start my car, rolling down my window, but Dante’s already on his bike, holding his helmet in his hands.
“Text me when you get home, please.” I nod and watch him put on his helmet and back out of the parking spot.
Dante turns to look back at me before taking off, flipping his visor up on his helmet, giving me a wink, and speeding off down the street.
I slump back in my seat, willing my heart to calm down.
Holy fuck, tonight was amazing. Dante’s such a gentleman, and he didn’t even bat an eye at my dark romance books. I throw my car into reverse, backing out of my spot, and replay our kiss in my mind during the short drive home.
I pull into my parking garage, park in my usual spot, and make the trek up the three flights of stairs, forgoing the elevator to walk off this adrenaline.
I reach my door, now sufficiently calm, and unlock it, stepping inside.
The light in the kitchen is still on like I left it, and the quiet stillness of my apartment envelopes me.
I let out a heavy breath with my back pressed against the cool metal of my front door.
The quietness is cut short by a ping from my phone.
I pull my phone out of my purse and see a text from Dante:
I kick off my shoes and toss my purse on the kitchen island, and head to my bedroom.
My bed is groaning my name, and I long for her, but before I take a few steps into the room, a noise from the bathroom makes me pause.
I stand in the doorway, listening for the sound again.
A shuffling noise catches my attention. My heart drops, and all the hairs on my neck stand up.
“Binx?” I call out, hoping he’s playing in my laundry basket.
A chirp from the bed, and Binx pops his head from my pillows.
I snap my head back toward the bathroom, and everything unfolds in slow motion.
A gloved hand appears, and my body takes over before my mind catches up.
I slam my bedroom door shut, just before I see the shadow of someone pass in front of it.
I throw my entire weight against the door, sealing myself off from whoever’s on the other side.
I feel the handle to my door jiggle as the person bangs on the door, trying to get in, and I scream as loud as I can.
With my phone still in hand, I open it one-handed and frantically call Dante.
I set the phone on speaker, toss it onto the ground to hold the doorknob, and gain better leverage.
He answers on the second ring, “Dante! Help me! Someone broke into my apartment! I live in the Ozark apartments; please come quickly!” The jiggling and banging cease, and I can hear footsteps retreating.
I quickly grab my dresser, shoving it haphazardly in front of my door, and pick up my phone as I head into my closet.
“Dante?” I whispered into my phone, but I doubt he can hear me over his motorcycle, which sounds like it’s reaching its maximum speed.
I hope he’s on his way here.
After a few minutes, the engine sounds dwindle, and I can hear Dante again. “Are you there, angel?”
I breathe a sigh of relief. “Yes. I’m hiding in my closet. Apartment 23,” I whisper, holding back my tears.
“Good girl, stay there. I’m almost there, hang on.
” A bang at my front door startles me, and I can hear someone moving around in my apartment.
I hear a lot of shuffling, and I feel like time’s standing still.
“You can come out now, angel. It’s clear.
” Dante says through the phone, and I hang up, cautiously stepping out of my closet.
I move the dresser away from the door and open it slowly to find Dante in my living room, holstering a gun at the waist of his jeans.
He crosses the room, scooping me up in his arms, and what feels like the heaviest weight crashes down on me.
I sob into his chest as he shushes me, petting my head.
“Have you called the cops yet?” I shake my head, unable to speak.
“You have to call them, angel. You have to report this.”
I swallow hard, hating what I know’s coming next. I nod and pull back, wiping at my face. “You’re right.” I pull up my phone, my fingers shakingly dialing out 911.
After talking to the 911 dispatcher, Dante sits me on my couch, wrapping the blanket I always keep on the back around me.
“Do you want me to get you anything?” I shake my head, my mind in too much of a daze to verbally answer.
He sits next to me, wrapping his arm around me.
“I’m so sorry this happened to you, Luna. ”
The echo of voices and beeps from walkie-talkies fills the stairwell, and I prepare myself to face the police.
A knock on my front door makes me jump, and a female officer pokes her head into the ajar door.
“Hey. We got a call about a break-in? I’m Officer Diaz, and these are my partners, Officer Reo, Officer Dempsy, and Officer Smith. ”
“Yes,” I say, as the four officers pile into my tiny apartment.
“I called. I had just gotten home when I heard someone in my bathroom. I barricaded myself in my room. I don’t think I saw what they looked like.
It all happened so fast. But I know I saw a gloved hand on my bathroom door before I shut myself in. ”
“Who’s the guy?” One of the male officers asks, giving Dante a pointed look.
“He’s my boyfriend.” I lie.
“So was he here with you?” Officer Diaz asks.
“No, he had just dropped me off from our date when everything happened. I called him because he could get here faster.” Not a complete lie this time, but they didn’t need to know the truth about Dante and me.
“Why didn’t you call us first? Maybe we would have caught him,” one of the other male officers says in a smug tone, smacking gum. I don’t care to learn their names or who they are.
“He was gone by the time I got here. I wasn’t that far away when she called me. I doubt you would have gotten here faster than I did.” Dante says, moving close to me.
“And the last time you showed up, you told me there was nothing you could do. This time will be no different, and that’s hard to hear when your privacy has been so viciously invaded.
Someone could have seen something, and you won’t ask around?
Why can’t the police do anything before the women end up dead?
” Dante stands behind me, his large arm crossed over his chest, exuding a menacing big-dog energy.
Officer Diaz glances at the three male officers, who leave my apartment without another word.
Officer Diaz turns to me and says, “I’m very sorry this happened to you, Ms. I understand this is a gross invasion of privacy.
But we can’t knock on every door in this apartment building.
We’d be here all night, and the city of Boston never sleeps.
I will have my partner question anyone lingering in the halls, and I’ll make a report and have a squad patrol the area—but that’s all I can do without a name, a face, or any evidence to go on other than your word.
Woman to woman, invest in some home security.
It will at least give you peace of mind. ”
I nod, feeling defeated, and Officer Diaz takes down my name and number for the report before leaving my apartment.
I turn to face Dante, and he opens his arms for me as I step into him. His big arms surround me, giving me a gentle squeeze, and I breathe in his scent—bergamot and spicy smoke. I melt into him, his scent envelops me, and he feels good.
If I’m honest, sharing this burden with someone else, even if just for a moment, makes me feel like I’m not alone. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this mess. I didn’t think it would escalate like this.”
Dante angles my face up, holding my gaze. “No, Luna. Don’t do that. Thank you for calling me. I’m sorry I couldn’t get here fast enough. When I heard you scream, I—,” he swallows hard, “I don’t ever want to hear that sound again, angel. I’m glad you’re okay.”
I nod, biting my lip, feeling nervous about asking him, but I don’t want to be here alone tonight. “Would you mind staying here tonight?”
“I wasn’t going to let you out of my sight tonight, whether you wanted me to or not.” Dante smiles, and I let out a small laugh in relief. “I’ll sleep out here on the couch for the night. I don’t mind.”