Chapter 10 #2
Char’s eyes found mine. She looked like she was trying to decide whether she was allowed to come closer. Like she was afraid of what I might be now. I took one step toward her. She flinched. That flinch hit me harder than any bullet ever had.
I stopped, breathing slow through my nose. Char moved first, closing the distance with careful steps, like approaching a wild animal. When she reached me, she didn’t speak. She just looked up at me, eyes shimmering.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered hoarsely. Her voice still hadn’t recovered. Every word scraped.
I stared at her throat. I couldn’t help it. Her hand lifted instinctively, fingers brushing her collar like she wanted to hide the marks.
“I didn’t,” she started, voice breaking. “I didn’t mean for anyone to get tangled up in my mess”
“I know,” I said.
The words were flat, deadened. Char’s eyes widened slightly at my tone. Nita watched us, tension tightening her shoulders, like she was bracing for impact.
Char swallowed. “Dante.”
I finally met her gaze. And whatever she saw there made her inhale sharply, her breath catching like she’d been slapped.
Because she took a step back. Not far. Just enough to put air between us.
Fear. Not of me hurting her physically. Fear of what I might do.
My voice came out low. Quiet. “He did that to you.”
Char’s lips trembled. “Yes.”
“I watched Lamonte bleed out,” I said, and my voice didn’t shake. That was the problem. “I watched you die and come back.”
Char’s eyes filled fast. “I’m here,” she whispered. “I’m here. I’m, I don’t know, but I’m here.”
“I know,” I repeated.
But I didn’t reach for her. I didn’t comfort her. I didn’t soften. Because the softness had been buried with my best friend.
Char’s voice turned pleading. “Dante, please.”
I held her gaze. And then I said it, the thing that had been living like a blade behind my teeth since the hospital.
“He will never be a problem for anyone again.”
The sentence was calm. Almost gentle. And it was the most terrifying thing I’d ever said.
Char’s face drained of color. Her eyes went wide, pupils blown, like she’d just realized the kind of darkness grief could forge.
Nita stepped forward instantly, hand grabbing my arm. “Dante,” she hissed. “Don’t. Don’t do something you can’t take back.”
I looked at Nita like she was speaking a language I didn’t understand.
“You can’t,” Nita’s voice shook. “I know you’re hurting, I know you’re—this isn’t you.”
I exhaled slowly, eyes still on Char. Char’s mouth opened like she wanted to speak but didn’t know what words could hold this moment.
Nita tightened her grip. “Dante, please.”
I turned my head toward her, just enough to meet her eyes.
“I lost my best friend,” I stated, voice even. “And I can’t ever get him back.”
Nita’s eyes filled with fresh tears. “Dante.”
“Too late, Nita.” The words were cold. “Do me a solid and take care of your sister.”
Nita’s face crumpled. “What are you saying?”
I looked back at Char. “I don’t know what could have been.
We’ll never know. I’ll never be the man I was before and you deserve a man who can give you everything I can’t anymore.
Live a good life Charlaina. Live a life full for Lamonte.
Live a life free because the last thing I’ll do is make sure he can’t ever get to you again. You’re free, Char. Make it count.”
She stood very still, like if she moved the world might collapse.
Her bruises were fading, but they were still there.
Proof of what had happened. Proof of what he’d done.
Her eyes were wet, scared, exhausted. And still—still she looked at me like she wanted to hold onto whatever part of me was left.
I stepped closer.
Char didn’t step back this time.
I lifted my hand slowly, fingertips brushing her cheek.
Her skin was cold from the wind.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
I shook my head once. “Don’t be.” Then I leaned in and pressed my mouth to hers.
It wasn’t hungry.
It wasn’t soft.
It was a goodbye.
A seal.
A final promise that whatever we might’ve had, whatever could’ve been, was now something I was walking away from to keep it from getting ruined by what I was about to become.
Char made a small sound against my lips—broken, pleading. When I pulled back, her eyes were shining, wide and devastated. “Dante,” she whispered, voice trembling. “Don’t—”
I didn’t let her finish. Because if she begged me, if she said my name like she needed me, there was a chance the cold would crack. And if it cracked, I might not be able to do what my mind had already decided was necessary.
I stepped back.
Nita’s mouth opened, fury flaring through her grief. “You can’t just leave.”
“I can,” I cut in. “And I am.”
Char’s breath hitched. Tears spilled, sliding down her cheeks. “Dante—please.”
I stared at her for one last second.
Memorized her face.
The curve of her mouth. The bruises that would fade but never fully disappear inside her. The strength it took for her to stand here, recovering, grieving a man she barely knew but who’d nearly died trying to protect her.
Then I turned away.
My boots crunched gravel as I walked. I didn’t run. I marched steady.
I didn’t look back.
Behind me, I heard Nita say my name again, sharper now, like an order.
“Dante!”
I kept walking.
“Dante Verdone, you saved my sister. Don’t forget the good inside you. I owe you for saving her.”
I kept marching on. Because if I turned around, I might still be human.
And I couldn’t afford that.
Not anymore.
Not with Lamonte in the ground and a monster still breathing somewhere in my city.
The wind bit at my face as I reached the edge of the crowd, moving past uniforms and condolences, past folded flags and grieving families.
I felt every eye on me. Or maybe that was my imagination. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was the vow, steady as a pulse in my chest and the way I was determined to fix this for good.
He would never be a problem again. And neither Nita nor Char would be dragged into what came next.
I slid into my car. Closed the door.
And for the first time since the night of the apartment, I let myself sit in the silence and feel nothing at all.
Stone cold.
Just like the grave I had left behind.