20. Dante
DANTE
I stand outside, staring down at the frayed toothpick on the ground for a long, long time, my eyes burning. Samantha’s…better. Not holed up in her room.
Not crying.
Not even pale anymore.
She looks…healthy. Glowing. Almost happy.
I don’t know what I was planning to say to her when I called out her name, but I suppose it doesn’t matter. It’s for the best. It’s what I keep telling myself, over and over.
I draw in a breath that shakes only a little and straighten up, heading back inside the house and up to my room. I think about going to the basement to hit something, but I did a lot of that the first night after I ended things, and my knuckles are still sore.
Besides, I’m exhausted.
I’m not sleeping much. Not eating much. Barely functioning.
I can’t stop thinking about her—remembering the way the amber flecks in her brown eyes flash when she’s mad. How crooked her smile is. How she lights up when she laughs. What she looks like with her head thrown back, her eyes rolled back into her head.
Fuck.
I stick my finger through the blinds in my room. It overlooks the pool and she’d been in a bathing suit, and I’m a fucking idiot so… I’m looking for her.
I see her sitting on the edge of the pool with her friends, leaning her head on Reese’s shoulder and all the breath goes out of my lungs in a rush.
This’ll be just the opening he’s looking for, won’t it? It’s only a matter of time before she moves on. I’d told her to, hadn’t I? I practically pushed her into his arms.
I can’t breathe, gasping in air like I’m drowning, my heart pounding too hard as I shut the blinds again. I sit on the edge of the bed, putting my head between my knees before I black out.
My phone buzzes with a text. It’s Elio: My office. Now.
Fuck.
He’s probably pissed at me. The night before, I was supposed to go for a shipment but I fell asleep after too many scotches and Ricardo had to go, instead.
Of course the shipment was hit by the Ricci’s, and Ricardo barely escaped with his life.
I groan and stand up, still trying to catch a deep breath. I have to get my shit together.
His door is slightly ajar again, and dread rushes through me as I slowly open it. He sits behind his desk, his arms crossed over his chest. I shut the door without him asking me, sitting down hard in the chair across from him.
“Before you say anything, just let me say I’m sorry,” I say quickly, looking down at my hands.
Elio doesn’t respond and finally, I look up. He’s frowning, leaned forward over his desk now. He doesn’t look angry. “What’s going on with you, Dante? What’s wrong?”
My eyes start to burn again and I clear my throat. “Nothing.”
Elio points at me, anger now flashing in his eyes. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Dante. Not after last night. We almost lost three of our men, including Ricardo, who’s trying to take care of his dying mother. You don’t get to lie to me now.”
A laugh bubbles up in my throat, but I push it down. I’ve been lying to him for months. I’ve been in love with Samantha since practically the moment I first saw her.
“Remember the girl I told you about? The young one?”
Elio sits back in his seat. “Yeah?”
“I… I ended things.”
“What? Why? I told you to follow your heart.”
“Yeah, well. It’s… complicated. Her father… he hates me.”
Elio hums. “And they’re close?”
“Very close.”
Every word that I say that has any truth in it makes my heart feel a little less broken. Makes me breathe a bit easier. Not enough, but something.
“Shit. How’d she take it?”
I do laugh, then, a bitter chuckle that escapes my throat. “Better than me.”
“Yeah. No shit. You look worse than I did after Grace died.”
My eyes shoot up to his. “I know I’ve been distracted. I’ll do better.”
“It’s not just distracted, Dante. You almost got people killed last night. I’m benching you.”
My mouth opens to protest. Closes. I hang my head. “Alright. For how long?”
“You’ll still watch over Samantha, of course.”
Oh. Great. Wonderful. “Of course,” I say bitterly, but Elio doesn’t seem to catch it.
“Ricardo can’t do it all on his own.” Elio smiles slightly. “My girl is a handful and a half.”
Don’t I know it.
“I’ll take tonight’s shift,” I offer, even though my voice comes out strained.
Elio shakes his head. “No. Not tonight. She’s going out with her friends, and you look like you haven’t slept in a week. I’m ordering you to stay home and get some rest.”
“Elio–”
“Don’t argue with me, asshole. I’m doing you a favor here.”
I blow out a breath but don’t protest. I”m not going to put up too much of a fight, because as much as I’m aching to see her, I don’t think it’s a good idea right now.
That spider crack in the shell around my heart keeps growing and growing. It’s only a matter of time before it shatters.
“Sleep. And lay off the scotch, will you? It’s not helping.”
Shows what you know. It’s the only way I can get a few thin hours of sleep.
I look at him. “Alright, Dad. We done here?”
Elio cracks a smile. “Yeah, we’re done. If you do get drunk, at least call your girl. Something good should come out of it.”
“No.”
“You’re a tough nut to crack, Dante, but I’ll get there.”
“Fuck you.”
“Fuck you right back,” he says cheerfully, grinning.
“What about the rat?”
Elio’s face goes serious. “Let me worry about that. I’ve got a plan.”
“What kind of plan?”
“We’ll have a meeting soon. You, Leo, Marco, Ricardo. All my enforcers. I’ll be giving you each a different location for fake shipments. Whichever location Ricci hits… well, that’ll be the rat, won’t it?”
I blink at him. “That’s actually a smart plan.”
“What, you doubted me? I’m a genius,” Elio crows.
“Yeah, yeah.” I pause. “What about your girl? How’s that going?”
Elio sighs. “Too well.”
I cock an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“She wants to get serious. Wants to meet Sam.”
“Wow. That’s a big step.”
“It is.” He groans. “Maybe it’s too big. Maybe I should take a page out of your book. Break it off.”
“Don’t you dare.” My voice goes low and almost dangerous. “Take your own advice, Elio. Follow your heart. What does it tell you?”
He frowns. “That I don’t want to lose anyone ever again. That I don’t want Sam to lose anyone ever again.”
“You can’t predict who you’ll lose, Elio. It was just bad luck with Grace.”
“She’s the best luck I ever had,” Elio says quietly, and I go silent, waiting for him to continue. His eyes have gone misty, and I know he’s struggling to compose himself. “I still miss her, you know. Every day.”
“I know you do.”
“Maybe I always will.”
“Probably.” I pause. “But Samantha wants you happy, Elio.”
I know that because I know her.
“Well, Olivia’s pissed at me right now, anyway.”
“What about?”
“Getting serious. I told her I needed to think about it.”
“What’d she say?”
He frowns. “That if I thought too long I”d end up thinking her into another man’s arms.”
I snort out a laugh. God, that sounds like something Samantha would say. Something Grace might have said. “You really do have a type.”
“Shut up.”
“So, do you want her with another man or…”
“Fuck no,” he growls. “But…it’s hard. Moving on.”
“I know it is.” God knows I haven’t been able to do it.
“We’ll see how it goes,” Elio says noncommittally.
“Don’t make the same mistake I did.”
Elio looks at me, tilting his head curiously. “You’re in love with her.”
I swallow hard, staring at him. I don’t confirm or deny, but a slow grin creeps across his face. “Dante Bianchi. Finally in love. I can’t believe it.”
I groan. “Don’t make this a big deal. It’s over.”
“It’s never over when you’re in love. Really in love.”
I rub a hand across my face. “I don’t think I like it.”
“Being in love?”
I nod.
Elio laughs. “You’re telling me. It’s scary, right? Like jumping out of a fucking plane. But you know me, I’ve always loved adrenaline.”
“We are two very different people, Elio. Call Olivia. Tell her you’re in love with her.”
Elio blinks. “Who says I’m in love with her?”
“You did. Practically.”
“Maybe.”
“Definitely.” I stand up. “I’m going to eat something and then go to bed for approximately three days.”
“Good. The meet will be Friday. I’m going to throw a party after we catch the rat.”
I scoff. “A party? You know I hate parties.”
“Too bad. It’s a work party, you’re obligated.”
“As long as no tequila is involved.”
Elio grins. “Can’t make any promises.”
I sigh and exit the room as he laughs. I make my way to the kitchen, and I can’t help peeking out the window.
Samantha’s on Reese’s shoulders as he walks her around the pool, screaming “Marco” with her eyes covered by her hands.
She’s giggling. Glowing. Happy. My heart plummets into my stomach, and suddenly, I’m no longer hungry.
“You should really eat something,” Maria says softly behind me, and I jump, startled.
“Jesus, Maria, you scared the shit out of me.” My words come out in a gasp. She’d legitimately snuck up on me.
She laughs, and it lights up her whole face. She’s pretty. Her husband is a lucky man. “You can’t live off coffee and scotch, you know,” she scolds.
I smile sheepishly. “You noticed?”
“Mmhm.” She walks past me, rummages around in the fridge and pulls out a covered bowl and pops it in the microwave. “This is roast and potatoes from last night.”
The smell makes my stomach growl audibly. “You don’t have to–”
“I’m doing my job.”
“You don’t work for me.”
"Maybe not, but you’re living in this house, aren’t you?” Her words are matter-of-fact, and I can’t help but chuckle.
A gale of laughter and a big splash comes from the pool area and Maria smiles. “I’m so glad Miss Samantha is feeling better. That flu almost took her out.”
“The flu?”
“She was sick as a dog for a week, didn’t you know?”
I go silent. She wasn’t sick. She was upset, and it was all my fault.
But it’d only taken her a week to get better.
How long will it take me? I can’t imagine feeling like this forever.
It might actually kill me. Always thought I’d go out with a bullet in the back of the head. Not slowly, painfully, from heartbreak.
“I haven’t been feeling well myself.”
Maria looks at me, straight through me. It’s stupid to lie to her. She already knows, has known since Samantha and I first started this thing. “I’ve noticed. Something tells me it’s related.”
“Maybe.”
“Are you being careful?”
I clear my throat. “More careful than I’ve ever been before.” And it’s fucking killing me.
“Careful isn’t always the best option.”
“It’s the only option.”
She tilts her head. “Is it?”
The microwave beeps and I’m grateful, because I don’t know how to respond to that.
She hands me the bowl, putting a cloth on the bottom so it won’t burn my hand.
I dig in, occupying my mouth so I don’t have to speak, and Maria watches me, as if making me clean my plate. It’s rich and delicious, and I finish it quickly, standing in the kitchen.
She nods, smiling, and takes the bowl out of my hands, washing it before putting it away and grabbing her purse. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Elio gave me the night off. It’s my anniversary.”
“How long?”
“Twenty-one years.” She smiles.
“Congratulations.”
“It wasn’t always this easy, you know. Relationships are hard. They take work. Compromise.”
“Sacrifice.”
She frowns. “Not sacrifice. Not if you do it right.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I just nod. She walks out the door and I finally let out a long breath. I feel better now that I have something in my stomach, so I start to head up to my room. I walk past Samantha’s door. It’s slightly ajar.
I shouldn’t look.
I peek inside anyway.
Reese sits on her bed, looking up at her with a fond smile.
Samantha’s trying on outfits while Sofia rifles through her closet, doing a little spin while Reese praises her.
Suddenly I don’t feel better at all. I want to rush in there, grab him by the shirt, throw him up against the wall. Tear his fucking head off.
But Samantha’s smiling for the first time in… how long? He’s the better man for her. He’s young. Bright.
Not her father’s best fucking friend.
I hide in my room, drinking scotch until I hear Ricardo come in. I make my way downstairs once I hear them leave, sit on the couch, and turn on that show that Samantha and I used to watch.
Felicia’s winning. Samantha would be so pissed.
I gulp down scotch like it’s water. Tell myself I’m not waiting for her to come home.
Keep hating myself.