Julia
Chapter Twenty Nine
Dante steps out first.
He scans the curb, the lobby entrance, the parked cars along the street. Then he opens my door.
He has said almost nothing since we pulled up. The little bit of softness from the car has folded away again, replaced by the cold focus.
“Stay beside me,” he says.
I almost tell him I know how to walk into my own building.
I don't think he’d appreciate it.
The doorman is at the desk. He smiles when he sees me, then glances at Dante and straightens a little.
“Evening, Miss O’Brien.”
“Hi, Russell.”
We cross to the elevators and briefly wait for the doors to open.
I step in behind Dante.
The elevator ride feels too long.
Dante stands between me and the doors, one hand inside his jacket. His body is still, but the air around him is full of lethal concentration.
The only other time I've seen Dante like this is when he showed up in Connecticut to get me out of Harrison's house.
My heart pounds so hard I can feel it in my throat.
I want to tell him that just because he was assigned to take me home doesn't mean he has to do all this. This is my apartment building. I do this every single day.
The elevator doors open.
Dante steps into the hall first and looks both ways before he lets me follow.
I reach into my clutch for my keys.
Dante stands at my side, close enough that his sleeve brushes my arm.
The lock turns.
I push the door open, but Dante puts out an arm so he can step in first.
My heart is in my throat, and I want to tell him that he's taking it too far. He's freaking me out, and I don't think my nerves can handle it.
He steps in first, but I can't wait another second. I'm starting to feel sick again. I step in with him, prepared to push past him and run for the bathroom.
“Jul—”
I step ahead of him. The apartment beyond is dim. I left one lamp on in the living room before I went to the gala, and its warm light spills across the entryway, the console table, the pale rug, the bowl where I drop my keys.
And the flowers.
The perfect white roses, arranged in a crystal vase, sitting in the center of my table.
Horror dawns, spreading through coldly me before I can make a sound.
I turn toward Dante.
His gun is out, and I barely register confusion before he snaps, “Down.”
He grabs me hard around the waist and and yanks me backward.
I hit the floor behind the kitchen counter, and the impact jolts up my legs.
A shot cracks through the apartment.
Somewhere above me, glass shatters. The wall splinters. I throw my hands over my head and gasp as Dante stands over me, shoving me deeper behind the counter with the weight of his body and the force of his arm.
Then Dante fires.
Once.
Twice.
The muzzle flash lights the kitchen in brutal bursts.
A body hits the floor somewhere near the living room.
I scream, but the sound is swallowed by another shot, another impact, Dante’s arm driving me lower, his voice cutting through the ringing in my ears.
“Stay down.”
He turns before I can grab him.
A shadow moves near the hallway.
Dante fires again.
The man grunts and goes down hard, knocking into the side table with a crash that shakes the floor beneath my palms.
A deafening silence falls over us.
I am crouched behind the kitchen counter with my hands pressed to the tile, staring at Dante’s shoe. At the blood that’s just begun seeping out of the man who crashed against the side table.
My breathing is loud and fast. There’s a high, thin ringing in my ears. The distant sound of someone shouting in the hallway. The smell of smoke and plaster dust and flowers.
Dante stays crouched in front of me, gun raised, body angled between me and the apartment.
“Julia,” he says. “Look at me.”
I try.
My eyes stray to the living room instead.
One man lies half in shadow near the sofa.
Another is sprawled by the hall.
Two men.
Two men were waiting in my apartment.
Dante took them out.
The thought barely forms before I see his hand pressed against his side.
Blood spreading dark beneath his jacket.
My breath stops.
His face is pale.
“Dante,” I whisper.
He looks down like he has only just realized it.
Then his knees hit the floor.