6. Lennie
SIX
LENNIE
I sat in bed as Ollie and Gwen catered to my every need.
Kade had sent them over once he knew I was home.
I’d spoken to Kade to get an update on Evan, who was still in the hospital after being attacked.
He was getting stir-crazy, but that was nothing new.
He always did after he had been severely injured in combat.
Today I would go and visit him, because I knew if I didn’t, he would check himself out of the hospital just to make sure I was okay.
My phone continued to ping with new notifications. I had text messages galore from Jax, Evan, and Kade. For some reason, part of me was sad to see that I hadn’t gotten a text from Dante yet. He had checked in yesterday to see how I was feeling, but nothing yet today.
I’d first learned of Zombie after Phantom had to come clean about her being undercover and her true identity. I knew losing Arrow, who was not only a teammate but a close friend, had devastated Phantom. It made me wonder how Dante was holding up.
I grabbed my laptop and began typing in my databases.
I needed to know more about Dr. Dante Spinelli.
Something about him was alluring, and it wasn’t just his looks—though he was totally my type with his sweeping dark-blond hair, deep-blue eyes, and a certain boyishness despite his sharp cheekbones and strong jaw.
My fingers danced over the keys as I researched everything, I could find on him. My searches finally got some hits once I tapped into government databases.
DANTE SPINELLI
AGE 33
MALE
Grew up in Irving, Texas. Doctorate Degrees in forensics and pathology, and a Clinical degree in medicine.
I found several articles from a newspaper in Texas recounting how Dr. Spinelli’s forensic findings had helped lead to the arrest of six murderers.
Impressive to say the least. Even though Dante didn’t have social media, he was in photos with his squad members.
One picture in particular on Phantom’s Instagram had me smiling and chuckling.
It was a picture of Dante and Arrow standing next to each other in matching pink DEFCON shirts.
Arrow was beaming, his arm swung around Dante’s shoulders.
Dante looked less thrilled. The caption read: I swear Zombie likes us.
“What are you smiling about?” Gwen teased as she walked into the room with a mug of tea in her hand. I jumped and slammed my laptop closed.
She raised an eyebrow. “Listen, if you want to look at porn, be my guest, but I would wait to flick the bean until you are feeling a little better, Len.”
My face scrunched up. “I was not looking at porn!”
Gwen just laughed and shrugged before placing the steaming mug on my nightstand. “No shame in it, girlie. Ollie and I need to get going. Are you going to be okay here?”
I nodded, picking up the hot cup. “Yeah, I’m good. Thank you to you both for coming. It really means a lot.”
Gwen leaned down and kissed the top of my head. “Always got your back, boo-boo.”
As Gwen began to walk away, Ollie walked in with a bag of Cheetos. “I’m stealing these.”
I chuckled as she walked over and gave me a small hug, being sure not to squeeze too tightly.
“Bye, my loves, thank you again for coming,” I said as the girls filed out of my bedroom.
They both smiled and waved, and shortly after I heard the beep of my security system letting me know that the door had been opened.
I was getting ready to take a bath when I heard my phone ping with a text from Dante.
DANTE:
Morning, how are you feeling today? I was hoping that I could see you at some point so I can take a look at your bruises and laceration to make sure no infection is brewing.
I smiled at my phone, loving how technical he was. He was a little awkward, but also sweet.
ME:
Morning, I’m feeling okay. Still really sore. But sure, if you want you can come to my place this afternoon. How does 3 pm sound?
The bubbles on my phone appeared and then disappeared before reappearing again. Shit, should I have offered to come to his office instead of inviting him over? Had my offer been too intimate? My phone chimed.
DANTE:
Send me your address and I’ll be there.
An unexpected wave of happiness hit me as I sent him the address to my condo before going to wash up.
After my bath, Evan FaceTimed me from his hospital bed. He looked awful, connected to several machines. The look of devastation on his face at my bruises nearly broke me. After reassuring him that I was okay and keeping him company for a while, I hung up to let him rest.
I couldn’t admit to him that I was in physical and emotional pain.
I refused to tell him that I kept on having nightmares about the abduction every time I closed my eyes.
I wanted to just be able to get over this, but I couldn’t shake it.
I’d always had the ability to get over things quickly.
This felt like it should be no different.
But then again, I had never been kidnapped and tortured before.
I slowly cleaned up my condo in preparation for my visitor.
When I looked around my living room, I cringed at all my corgi decor.
My small obsession with corgis was not something I was sure I wanted him to see.
All my life I had wanted one but never had an opportunity to have one, hence the absurd amount of wiggle-butt décor around my condo.
Well, this was as good as it was going to get. Dante wasn’t coming over to judge my home; he was coming over to check if I was okay. Nothing more.
At ten to three, I heard the buzzer for the building entrance. The pain in my ribs as I got up from the couch made me groan but I made it over to press the button to let Dante in, waiting a minute before opening my front door.
Dante walked down the hall in charcoal slacks and a white button-up shirt, the top two buttons undone. His blond hair was disheveled as if he had been running his hands through it. A stethoscope hung around his neck. I felt my panties dampen just looking at him; he was drop-dead gorgeous.
The corner of his mouth tipped up when he saw me, making my stomach flip.
“Hey,” I said breathlessly.
Dante walked up to the door and seemed to give me a once-over. I looked down to realize I was still in my corgi-printed pajamas.
Oh great. Just great, I thought.
He gave me a nod of greeting before I opened the door wider and stepped to the side. With one giant step, he walked over the threshold and took in the living space.
“Sorry, I know it’s a mess,” I said, picking at my cuticles. Why was I so nervous? It wasn’t like this was the first attractive male to ever come into my home.
Dante turned to look at me with an amused smirk. “It’s fine.”
I sat on the couch and Dante squatted in front of me, his face returning to a stern expression. “How are you feeling?”
Don’t look at his crotch, don’t look at his crotch.
Despite my efforts, I looked down at his pants. The fabric was stretched tight, and I couldn’t mistake the bulge between his legs.
Realization dawned on me, and I remembered he had asked me a question. I met his eyes, which were sparkling with amusement. “I’m still in a lot of pain.”
Concern spread across his handsome face. “Have you been taking the pills that I gave you?”
“I took some of them, but I didn’t keep taking them because they make me feel funny,” I interjected.
Dante frowned. “I know they can cause some disorientation, but they will help your body relax so you can heal.”
I looked down at my hands resting on my lap, suddenly feeling more self-conscious about my pajamas. I felt the coolness of Dante’s pointer finger under my chin, making me look up at him.
“What else is on your mind?” he asked.
I couldn’t tell him how I was truly feeling. I couldn’t tell him that I didn’t want to take the medicine because it would make me sleep, and I knew if I slept, I’d have nightmares.
“Nothing, I just want to feel better,” I said quietly.
His finger still rested under my chin and he raised an eyebrow as if he could detect my bullshit.
He removed his hand and I instantly felt the loss of his touch.
What was it with this man? Sure, I had my share of fun with the opposite sex, but no one had the effect that Dante seemed to have over me.
He was like a book that I wanted to curl up with and take comfort in.
Dante stood and sat next to me on the couch. “I can understand that. But your body needs time to heal. Are you having any nightmares from the trauma you experienced? I know of several good therapists that could—”
I shook my head vehemently. I’d hated shrinks ever since I was a young girl. My mother put me in therapy after the car crash that killed my father. It felt less like my mother wanted to help me and more like she wanted me to be someone else’s problem; a feeling she cemented when she left.
“No shrinks. I’ll be fine,” I bit out more forcefully than I meant to.
Dante nodded. “I just want to check your wrists and the bruising to make sure everything is starting to heal.”
“Okay,” I responded.
Methodically, he took off my bandages and inspected my wrists where the red marks were fading to pink.
He lifted my shirt slightly to check the bruising on my side and along my back, then checked my breathing again, the whole time not saying a word.
When he was done, he disposed of his latex gloves and wrapped the stethoscope back around his neck.
“Everything looks as it should for this point in the healing process. If you don’t take the pain medication I gave you, please alternate Tylenol and Ibuprofen to help with inflammation and some of your pain.”
I met his cold, steely blue eyes. “Okay, I will.”
He gave me a nod of satisfaction, and, with a curt goodbye, he was heading out the door.
I wanted to find a reason for him to stay longer, but my mind was dulled by exhaustion. One thing was certain; I wanted to get to know Dr. Dante Spinelli.