Warning:
Only for readers aged 18 and over.
This book contains sexually explicit content, both M/F and M/M. (The first 4 chapters only contain M/F content). The cover picture is of Dante Rata.
1
Friday
Kara pressed the gate’s intercom buzzer
once again, wondering whether Craven was purposely tormenting her. She’d been
sitting in her car for over ten minutes, waiting for the seven-foot
wrought-iron gate to open sesame, and going over all the possibilities why
she’d been ordered to come to her boss’s estate at such short notice.
1) He wanted
payment. She owed Craven thirty grand, a debt she’d accrued from borrowing
money to send back to her family in Croatia.
2) He wanted
sex, although he’d always gone to the studio for that, which he’d stopped doing
eight months ago, right before marrying.
3) He had
another video surveillance job, the type that required her becoming an
attractive man’s girlfriend, then secretly installing cameras in their bedroom,
the sex tapes becoming entertainment for wealthy clients who were members of an
exclusive porn club.
Her hands shook
as she pressed the buzzer again, praying it wasn’t number one, although she had
a feeling it was, the warning she’d received a few days ago still colouring her
ribs with a patchwork of bruises.
A deep voice
rumbled through the intercom, making her jump. “Sorry for keeping you waiting,”
the man said. “Please drive through.”
Kara looked up
as the gates opened soundlessly, assessing whether it was too late to take off.
She exhaled loudly, knowing she couldn’t run, because the bastard would hurt
her family, his connections stretching across the world to Croatia.
She drove
through the gates, steering her old sedan under a willow canopy, their drooping
leaves waving her by as though she was driving to her own funeral. Beyond the
trees, a tennis court, stables and an equestrian field broke up the manicured
lawns, while straight ahead a white two-storey mansion stood proud on the
horizon. She’d always felt like she was on a film set when she visited Craven,
because his home looked like a larger version of Scarlett O’Hara’s house from Gone with the Wind, something that Kara
had watched over and over again as a teenager. It was just one of the many
American films that had helped her learn English, although her Croatian accent
still remained strong, her time in New Zealand having little or no affect on
it.
Kara turned
right at the end of the driveway, and parked next to an old Rolls Royce. She
got out of her car and pulled down her leopard-print work dress, which had
ridden up to her backside. Once decent, or at least semi-decent, the tight
little number far from business attire, she headed for the entrance, her
stilettos click-clacking across the concrete, announcing her arrival. The front
door opened before she reached it, revealing Talia, an old workmate and the
boss’s wife. Dressed in a pale-yellow sundress and with a blonde halo of hair,
the woman looked the picture perfect housewife, her angelic face adding to the
illusion. But Kara knew better, her first memory of Talia still seared in her
mind. Naked and kneeling under a table, Talia had been blowing men for fifty
dollars a load as they played poker.
“The Devil was
once an angel,” Kara said, voicing her thoughts, something she had a bad habit
of doing.
“I could never
understand you, and I’m not referring to your accent,” Talia said, tucking her
hair behind her ears, which was probably to show off the sparkling earrings
adorning them, something that Talia would’ve stolen in the past to own, her
fingers always too free with things that didn’t belong to her—men included.
“Can’t change a
prostitutka no matter what she
wears,” Kara added.
“Did you just
call me a prostitute?”
Kara smiled.
“No, it’s Croatian for angel.”
“You’re a
liar,” Talia snapped. “And unlike you,
I don’t sell my body anymore.”
“Craven is more
of a client to you than a husband,” Kara indicated to Talia’s earrings, then to
the Rolls Royce parked next to a black Maserati, “and those are part of your
payment.”
Talia glared at
Kara. “Jealousy fits you tighter than that slip of a dress, which tells me that
you’re still shopping at Whores ’R’ Us.”
Kara tugged the
hem down.
Talia crossed
her arms over her chest. “You better not be here to fuck my husband or Saul.
You can do the others, but those two are off limits.”
Kara let go of
her dress. “You have a thing for Saul?”
Talia spun
around and walked inside, confirming what Kara had asked. Kara followed the
woman, impressed as usual as she stepped into the grand entrance. The interior
had been upgraded since she’d last been here, the new chandelier above her head
grander, along with the plush red carpet on the staircase, reminding her of something
from a 1930s stage set, polished and primped to perfection.
Talia indicated
for Kara to follow her down a passageway, their heels clacking across the
marble floor like castanets. “If you value your life,” Talia said, stopping in
front of the last room, “keep your acid tongue to yourself, and do whatever
Nigel asks without answering back.” She then left like she couldn’t get away
fast enough, Kara wishing that she could do the same.
Sending a quick
prayer up to God, Kara kissed the rosary tattoo wrapped around her right
forearm and hand, then pushed open the door to Nigel Craven’s sanctum. The room
was elegant: white walls, red curtains and carpets, along with an old painting
of hounds and their gun-wielding owners. Behind a large mahogany desk, Talia’s
husband was sitting staring at a computer, his fingers doing a tap dance across
its keyboard. Kara said hello, but Craven continued typing without lifting his
head. She stood there awkwardly, waiting for him to finish whatever he was
doing. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally looked up.
Fifty-something with a bald spot and spectacles, Talia’s husband gave the
appearance of a mild-mannered accountant. He got to his feet, his wicked smile
saying he was anything but. He walked around the desk and hugged Kara like she
was a long lost daughter, someone he cared for and wouldn’t hurt, but she knew
better, the man always reminding her of the saying: A wolf in sheep’s clothing.
“How are you
today, my dear?” Craven said, pulling back to give her a good peruse.
“I’m fine
th-thank you, Nigel,” Kara answered, fear making her trip over her tongue.
Craven
indicated for Kara to take a seat, then returned to his own. “You’re probably
wondering why you’re here?” he said, loosening his tie. He was impeccably
dressed, his crisp white button-down shirt and tailored pants perfectly fitting
his slim physique. She knew he was all wiry muscle underneath, much stronger
than he looked, a body that didn’t match his ordinary face, his smile the only
thing betraying his sinister nature.
Painting on a
smile, she unzipped the front of her dress, getting the required reaction,
Craven’s eyes instantly going to her greatest assets and giving her hope that
she could pull through this meeting without bodily harm. “I know why you would
call someone like me in,” she said, unclipping her bra at the front.
His smile
widened, like he could eat her whole. “I didn’t bring you here for my
entertainment, although I must say, you’re looking quite tempting today, my
dear.”
“Tempting is
good, da?” she replied, the Croatian
word for yes slipping out, or what
many people had called Serbo-Croatian before the war had split Yugoslavia
apart, making her childhood a living hell, her old home in Bosnia long
destroyed. Kara refrained from going to that place in her mind, where she’d
watched her father and older sister herded into a line and shot down.
“Yes, tempting
is very good,” Craven said, ogling her naked breasts, “which is why my men
haven’t taken away your looks, because you have proven a very useful woman—up
until now, that is.”
She pushed her
breasts together. “But I’m still useful, and will do anything to pay back the
money I owe you.”
He looked up at
her face. “DDs are not the currency I’m after, so put your clothes back on.”
“Are you sure
about that?” she said, easing back in the chair and parting her legs, her
crotchless panties showing him everything on offer.
“Yes!”
he shouted, making her jolt. “And don’t make me say it again.”
She
quickly clipped her bra back together. “Please forgive me, I didn’t mean to
offend, and the only reason I couldn’t pay on time was b-because I had to send
money to my mother.”
“I don’t care
why you couldn’t pay, just that you haven’t.”
“But I will pay,
I promise, all I need is a little more time.”
“You shouldn’t
have interrupted me, I wasn’t finished speaking.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not
interested in your apologies, nor the money you owe me; instead I brought you
here to say that I’m quite happy to wipe your debt.”
Kara stopped
zipping up her dress, his words taking her by surprise. “Truly?”
“Yes, but I
want one little thing in return.”
Kara’s hopes
came crashing down. She was stupid for believing the wolf for even a second,
because Craven never did anything for free and nothing was ever ‘little’ with
him.
“What do you
want me to do?” she asked, willing herself to look at this as a reprieve, not
her funeral.
He smiled
wickedly, his eyes amused. “I want you to do
Dante Rata.”
Kara stared at
him, the name stunning her. Although it had reached her ears, she couldn’t
process that it had been uttered. “Did you say Dante?” she finally asked, rolling the name around on her tongue,
tasting it like she wanted to taste the man himself. Dante had been the only
man she’d ever fallen in love with, but he belonged to her past, someone she
never thought she would be allowed to see again.
“Yes,” Craven
answered, looking pleased with himself. “I’m finally granting your wish: I’m
allowing you to go back to him.”
“But why?
You’ve never allowed me to return to past surveillance jobs before, and you said
you’d kill my family if I went anywhere near him.”
“No harm will
come to your family, and you’re the only person who can do this job.”
“Then what do
you want me to do with him?” or to him, because, God, she would do so much.
“I want you to
become his girlfriend again.”
“I would love
to,” intensely, “but I highly doubt
he’d take me back after what I said to him.”
“Yes, I saw
that video,” he said, his smile widening. “From memory you called him a
prostitute and said some other rather nasty things. His reaction was most
entertaining. He destroyed his room right after you left, tore it apart to the
point that his brothers and cousin had to restrain him. He totally broke down,
sobbed like a baby.”
Kara stared at
him in shock, his words slashing her heart to threads. She hadn’t considered what
Dante might have gone through after she’d walked out, was too caught up with
her own sorrow at being ordered to leave him. And she’d been told by Craven’s
whores that he’d moved on from her like she’d meant nothing, taking another
woman into his bed within days, then another and another, his exploits now
legendary.
“Are you
crying?” Craven asked.
She scrubbed at
her eyes. “How do you expect me to be his girlfriend again after what I said to
him?” You heartless bastard! She
wanted to slit his throat, to shoot him in the head, to kick him in the nuts,
to totally and utterly destroy him like he’d done to her.
“You’re a
talented woman, Kara,” Craven said, “so I’m sure you’ll win him back.”
“But for how
long? Because I can’t face it if you make me leave him again.”
“If you achieve
what I want, you can have him for however long you want.”
“Which is
forever.”
Craven laughed.
“Okay, forever it is. So, will you accept?”
“Da. But why do you want me back with
him?”
“The Ratas are
leaving my employ and moving away, which will lose me considerable revenue,
their monetary offer to cut ties a pittance in comparison. I found out today
that their cousin lied to them about why they are tied to me: That he owes me
three-hundred thousand dollars—”
“He doesn’t?”
Kara said, remembering the reason Dante had given her for why the Ratas sold
drugs: that they were paying off their cousin’s debt, something that never
seemed to diminish, Dante’s gambling habit exacerbating the problem.
“Oh, Hunter
does owe me, but only fifty grand, which he could pay back easily if he sold
his house, but I’m not interested in obtaining that money, if anything, I wrote
it off a long time ago, Hunter’s loyalty to me more than enough payment,
especially since he did time on my behalf.”
“Did you tell
Ash and Dante this?”
“No. I allowed
then to believe Hunter’s exaggeration.”
“But you can’t
take their money, it’ll ruin them, and you don’t need it.”
Craven smiled
at her. “There’s no need to get worked up, because I have no intention of
taking it. I only allowed them to believe I would, but that’s because I need to
stall. They have to sell their home before they can pay me, and selling
property doesn’t happen overnight and especially not in their rundown neighbourhood. And since they’ve agreed to work for
me until it’s sold, I have time for you to change their minds, which you will
do through Dante. But if you fail in doing that, then as a backup I need you to
stay with them, Dante in particular so we can continue to film him, because
that boy has no idea how much money he’s worth.”
“Why don’t you
just threaten them, like the last time Dante’s brother tried to quit? Ash caved
in quick after you kidnapped his child.”
“Threats won’t
work this time,” Craven said. “Ash has changed. He wasn’t the same person when
he came to see me today. Normally he’s controlled, but when I tried to talk him
out of quitting, he started ranting at me that if I didn’t take the money he
would shoot me. Shoot me! I’m the one who threatens, not a lowly drug runner,
but I’m a logical man, so I agreed to it, although he deserved a bullet through
his head for what he said.”
Kara frowned,
not understanding any of this. “Then why didn’t you? I’ve heard you’ve killed
people for less.”
“Haven’t you
been listening? The Ratas are worth more money to me alive than dead—or more
specifically Dante is, and I don’t think he would appreciate me ordering a hit
on his brother, because after today, he would know it was me. Normally, I
wouldn’t allow people to leave my employ, but in the Ratas’ case, I will make
an exception just as long as you make sure we can continue filming Dante, and
if you succeed, your debt will be wiped clean and your family will be safe.”
“I still don’t
think Dante will let me back into his life, but I will certainly try.”
“Beautiful,”
Craven drawled, using the word as a name. “He will let you back in, it’s just a matter of whether you can change
from being a charity case to a lover.”
“What do you
mean by a charity case?”
“You’ll find
out soon enough.” Craven pressed a buzzer on his desk. “Please come to my
office, Saul,” he said into the intercom.
A few seconds
later, Craven’s right-hand man entered the room, an extremely attractive Samoan
packed with muscle. Saul’s impressive frame towered over Kara, his dark face
unhappy, the only expression she’d ever seen him have. One of Craven’s henchmen
stepped out from behind Saul, the leather-skinned sadist who’d beaten her up
for not paying on time.
Kara’s
terrified gaze flicked back to Craven. “Why is he here?”
Craven opened a
desk drawer. “Big Mack needs to do a bit of work on your face, and once he’s
finished you will go to the Ratas and tell them your fictional husband beat you
up,” he said, referring to Dante believing she was married.
Kara pushed out
of her chair. “You can’t do this to me!”
Craven removed
a knife from the drawer, which he held out for Mack to take. “And to spice
things up, if you fail completely in your task, Big Mack will carve your face
up like he did to Cindy, which means you’ll be working under tables again.”
“I will
succeed, I’ll get Dante, I will,” Kara babbled.
“Good girl. Now
go get your makeup done without causing problems.” He smiled, the expression a
mixture of wickedness and amusement, then he redirected his gaze to his
right-hand man. “Saul, tell that new guard I want him full-time.”
Saul nodded,
then pushed Kara through the doorway, herding her down the passage and outside,
with the sadist following. Her heels sunk into the manicured lawn as she was
directed past the swimming pool and through a cluster of trees, which hid a
quaint stone cottage. Saul unlocked the door, then shoved her inside, making
Kara trip over her heels and crash to the hardwood floor. She let out a yelp as
her knees took most of the impact, but flung herself around before the rest of
the pain could register, knowing that she had little time to defend herself.
Mack pushed past Saul, the goon licking the knife Craven had given him.
Kara grabbed a
stiletto and scrambled to her feet, kicking the other one off. “Stay back or
I’ll put this through your eye!”
Mack pointed
the knife at her, making Kara back up into the couch. “I don’t have any
intention of cutting your pretty face,” he said, “but you better put down that
stiletto or Saul will shoot it out of your hand.”
“No! I still
have bruises because of you! That’s enough to convince Dante!”
Mack leered at
her. “Then unzip your dress and lemme be the judge.”
“No! You stay
away from me!”
“You don’t have
to make this harder than it already is.”
“The only thing
that’s hard is your small dick, you sadist freak! You get off on hurting
people, but I won’t let you touch me again!”
“I say Saul’s
tool begs to differ...” He stepped aside, causing Kara to inhale sharply at the
sight of Saul’s gun pointed at her, “...and if you give us too much trouble—”
“I won’t, just
put that thing away,” she said, dropping the stiletto.
Mack’s leer widened.
“Now drop the dress.”
“Mack,” Saul
said, in a warning tone, “do what you’re paid for and not what you have to pay
for.”
“Cock-blocking
bastard,” Mack grumbled, pocketing the knife.
“Look,” Kara
said, unzipping her dress enough to display her ribs, now willing to do
anything to prove that he didn’t need to hurt her, “I’ve got enough bruises,
you can just let me go to Dante like this.”
“They’ve
faded,” Mack said, his eyes running down her body, then back up to her face, a
self-satisfied smirk replacing his leer. “Plus, you’ve got no bruises on your
face.”
A jagged breath
left Kara’s lips, knowing he was going to attack her no matter what, and that
she couldn’t do a thing about it, Saul’s gun stopping her from defending
herself. But instead of screaming and yelling at him, like she wanted to, she
lifted her chin, determined to take the punches the same way her sister and
father took the bullets: Standing strong and proud. Mack shook his head,
clearly amused, then before she could flinch, his fist barrelled into her
cheek, knocking her onto the couch. Stunned, she lay over it, the pain not
fully registering, although she could feel it like a heartbeat throbbing beneath
her skin. Mack grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head around, making her
cry out. Another punch slammed into her face, this one splitting her lip, then
he raised his fist again.
“That’s enough,
Mack!” Saul hollered.
Mack dropped Kara
to the floor. His eyes glazed over as he climbed onto her, his pupils dilated
as if he was high. Kara covered her face, expecting more punches to rain down
on her. Mack batted her hands away, then grabbed her by the ears and yanked her
head back, banging it against the floor. “Why aren’t you crying, bitch?” he
said, glaring down at her like she’d affronted him. “I hit you hard.”
Although it
hurt every pore in her face, she smiled up at him, feeling her lip split more.
“Because I am grateful to you.”
“Why?” he
asked, looking confused.
“For getting me
Dante back.” She spat in his face, his next punch taking away her
consciousness—but not her dreams.
2
Ash had been standing outside the
psyche unit, talking on his damn phone for the past twenty minutes, no doubt
using it as an excuse so he didn’t have to visit their cousin Hunter. But they
had to, because tomorrow they were planning on telling the twins they were
adopted and that Hunter was their real father.
“Get off the
phone?” Dante snapped. “You can talk to Tiana when we get home.”
Ash gave Dante
a dirty look, then said bye to Tiana. Hanging up, his gaze moved to the psyche
unit, the lights inside the small building breaking through the darkness
surrounding them. “Looks like visiting hours are over, but we can come back
another day.”
“Like hell,”
Dante said. “You’re backing out on telling Hunter about the twins, aren’t cha?”
“No I’m not,
and it’s not my fault—Tiana called me.”
“Bullshit, you phoned her. I saw you hit those
keys.”
Ash pulled a face,
then looked over at the door again, his tortured expression making Dante feel
like crap for snapping at him. The past week had been a hellish nightmare for
Ash after their stepfather had kidnapped and held him for two days; chaining
him to a bed and making him think he was never going to escape.
“You’re right,
I’m not sure I can tell Hunter,” Ash finally said, referring to the man he loved
like a father.
“Then we can’t
tell the twins they’re adopted.”
“But we have
to, they needa know.”
“Which means Hunter
needs to be warned, cos what happens
if one of the twins decides to visit him, angry that he pretended he wuzn’t
their father?”
“I ... I just
don’t want him gettin’ upset,” Ash said, pushing back his messy black hair,
revealing the bruise on his forehead, a reminder of how he’d tried to kill
himself during his captivity. “I made a promise to him that I wouldn’t tell the
twins, now I’m breaking it.”
“I promised him
too,” Dante said, “but since no one believes the shit that comes outta my
mouth, I might as well be the one to spill the beans, so go wait in the car.”
Ash exhaled.
“No, this is my responsibility, plus it wuz my idea.”
“Maybe, but
it’s both of our responsibilities; so if you’re not backing out, we’ll do it
together.”
Ash looked over
at the psyche unit again. “But it’s past visiting hours.”
“The
receptionist is sweet on me; she’ll let us in.”
Ash sighed.
“You ain’t gonna make this easy on me, are ya?”
“I already gave
you an out, not my fault your conscience won’t let ya take it, and anyway, you should
be more like me and tell your conscience to suck eggs.”
“You don’t have
a conscience,” Ash said, cracking a smile for the first time in a while.
“Nah, I’m just
a sensitive soul who knows how to hide my feelings well, which is why I write
romance stories in my spare time. You should read my last one; it’s a fanfic of
Debbie Does Dallas. I’m calling it Freya Fucks Frankfurt. Do ya think
anyone will know it’s plagiarised?”
Ash laughed. “Thanks,
bro.”
“For what?”
“For making me
laugh, didn’t think that wuz possible after this week.” Ash indicated with his
head to the psyche unit. “Let’s get this over and done with before I change my
mind.”
“Better sprint
then, cos you’re worse than a woman.” Dante moved behind Ash and gave him a
shove.
Ash backed up
quickly, stepping on Dante’s toes and making him yelp, then headed through the
sliding door sniggering.
“You bastard,
I’ll get ya back for that,” Dante said, following him into the air-conditioned
foyer and past a security guard. The cream-coloured room was dotted with pretty
prints of New Zealand landscapes, made up of varying tones of blues and greens.
On their left, a different receptionist from the one he’d expected to see was
sitting behind the desk, the girl barely out of her teens. She looked up as
they stopped in front of her counter, a noticeable jerk vibrating through her
body. Dante knew what she was thinking, that their leathers and tattoos equated
to them being gang-members, although she was wrong, but telling her that they
were drug dealers instead wouldn’t exactly alleviate her fears.
What looked
like a practiced smile formed across her face, only her eyes betraying her
worry as they flicked to the security guard, who was watching them from the
doorway.
“How may I help
you?” she said, focusing on Ash.
Ash stepped
back, an invitation for Dante to take over. Although he had no interest in her,
Dante leaned on the counter and put on an award-winning smile, knowing he had
to work his charms since he didn’t know this chick. “We’re here to see Hunter
Rata, ma’am.”
She touched her
hair, the dark curls the only thing pretty about her, the rest of her features
plain and forgettable. “What are your names?” she asked.
“I’m Dante Rata
and tall, dark and glum is my bro Ash. So, can we see our cuz?”
“Do you have an
appointment?” she asked, continuing to play with her hair.
“No, we don’t
normally need one,” Dante replied, wishing the other receptionist had been on.
“It’s after
hours.”
“I know.” He
leaned forward. “But the other receptionist always gives us passes.”
She stared at
Dante for a moment, then craned her head to look at Ash, who Dante hoped wasn’t
glaring at her, his brother’s patience usually short, but then again Ash might
be doing it on purpose, so he could have a valid excuse for not seeing Hunter.
Dante reached
out and touched the receptionist’s cheek, directing her gaze back to him.
“Don’t pay any attention to him, gorgeous, he’s just trying to psyche you out
so you’ll send us away. He doesn’t wanna be here, but I do, and I’ll be really grateful if you can help me
out.”
She touched her
cheek with a giggle. “I’ll just call the Charge Nurse to see if she can let you
in.” She picked up the phone.
Straightening,
Dante looked over at the security guard, who was glaring at him, the guy’s dark
features either Samoan or Tongan. Wondering what the prick’s problem was, Dante
waggled his tongue at him, getting a whack across the back of the head from
Ash, and a “Stoppit.”
“What cha do
that for?” Dante grumbled, rubbing where Ash had hit him.
“Cos I can’t
take you anywhere without you embarrassing me, you’re worse than a kid.”
Dante poked his
tongue at Ash, eliciting a grin from his brother, then refocused on the
receptionist, who was smiling wide at him, her expression amused.
“The Charge
Nurse said that it would be alright,” she told him, looking proud of herself.
“She’ll be with you in a few minutes. You can take a seat over there.” She
indicated to a blue vinyl couch behind a small table stacked with magazines.
“Thank you,”
Dante said, turning to sit down.
“Oh, Dante...”
He turned back.
“Yeah?”
“Here,” she
said, quickly scribbling her name and number on a piece of paper. She held it
out for him to take, a blush colouring her face. “If you’re free sometime, call
me.”
“I’ve got a
girlfriend.”
Her face fell.
“Oh.” Then a smile reformed. “For when you don’t have one then.”
“’Kay.” He took
the paper and glanced at the name. “Donna, I’ll be happy to.”
Her smile
widened. “That’ll be great.”
He nodded then
followed Ash to the couch.
“Why ja do that
for?” Ash said, plonking himself down on the cushions.
“Do what?”
“Take that
chick’s number; I thought you were head over heels in love with Beth.”
Dante breathed
out at the mention of his girlfriend—and Ash’s ex. “I am in love with her, but it would’ve been rude not to take the chick’s
number, and it’s not like I’m gonna call it,” he said, placing the note in his
pocket.
“And why were
you annoying that guard?” Ash added.
“The prick wuz
giving me the evils.” Dante looked over at the guard, who was still burning
holes through his head. He blew him a kiss, making the guy’s eyes go wide.
Ash punched
Dante’s arm. “Stoppit, before you get us thrown out.”
Dante grabbed
his arm, now getting pissed off. “Stop bloody whacking me; and it’s not like
you care if we get chucked out.”
“I’ve changed
my mind.”
“Again, you’re worse than a woman.”
“I’m not the
one hitting on a bloke.”
“I don’t hit on
dudes, and it’s his fault for perving at me.”
“You think
everyone pervs at you.”
“That’s cos
they do, and you’re just jealous, cos I’m gorgeous and you’re not,” Dante
sniggered.
“We look the
same.”
“Nope, you look
like an axe murderer while I look like everyone’s wet dream.”
Ash shook his
head, but still smiled.
“Two smiles in
one day, whoo-hoo, I’ve broken the world record,” Dante said happily, then
looked up as the guard headed their way. “What do ya want, perv?”
The guard
stopped in front of him. He was a big bloke in his early twenties with a
closely shaved head and a cleft pallet. “You’re Dante Rata.”
“Yeah, what’s
it to ya?”
“It’s a sin
what you do.”
“Blow me,”
Dante said, wondering whether the guy knew they were drug dealers.
“Man-whore.”
Dante jumped to
his feet. “What the fuck didja just call me?”
“A whore.”
Ash grabbed
Dante from behind before Dante could launch himself at the guard. “Don’t,” Ash snapped.
“Not here, not now.”
The guard
lifted his chin. “You will burn in hell for what you do.”
“How would you
know what I do, you self-righteous prick?” Dante growled, aching to rip the
guard apart. “I don’t even know you.”
“But I know
you, and how you have sex with everything in sight.”
Dante’s lip
curled. “I wouldn’t fuck your arsehole, so piss off.”
The guy’s eyes
flashed with anger. “You will pay for your debauchery,” he said, then headed
back to the door, his glare returning to Dante as he settled next to it.
Dante glared
back, wishing he could shoot real daggers.
“Sit down,
bro,” Ash said, still holding onto him.
“That fucker
deserves to be bashed for saying that shit to me.”
“You still
can’t attack him here.”
Here. Yeah, he’d bash the
ugly cunt somewhere else, because the sonofabitch was going down—and not on his
dick. Dante settled back on the couch. “I’m sick of people calling me a whore.”
“Which is why
I’m surprised you forgave Beth for causing it.”
Dante looked
down at the floor, still bothered over finding out that Beth had texted a naked
picture of him to half the neighbourhood before they’d gotten together, all
because she’d been jealous when he’d slept with someone else. He frowned. “People
still called me names before that, just not as much.”
“That comes
with the territory of fucking everything in sight.”
“I only do
females.”
“Sorry, I’ll
rephrase that: everything with a pussy.”
“Pretty
pussies, and I haven’t been fucking around since me and Beth got together.”
“Which hasn’t
even been a week,” Ash said, his gaze moving to the door on his right as it
slid open.
A forty-something
nurse headed for them with a smile. She was dressed in cream-coloured clothing
that hung off her stick-thin frame. “Hello, Ash and Dante, it’s good to see you
again. Sorry for the hold up, the receptionist is new. Please come through,”
she said, handing over passes with straps on, which they hooked around their
necks.
Dante flicked
the security guard the finger, then followed Ash and the nurse through some
sliding doors that led into a lounge, where people were watching TV, playing
card games or chatting.
The nurse
stopped behind a couch. “Hunter,” she said, to a man who was watching a telly
programme.
Hunter glanced
over his shoulder, then jumped to his feet with a look of delight. He shot
around the couch and grabbed Ash into a bear-hug, saying, “Hello, son.” Dante
stared at Hunter, shocked at how much weight his cousin had lost since he’d
last visited, which had only been a few weeks ago. Minus his trademark beard and
a good ten kilos, Hunter now looked like an older version of Ash and Dante’s
younger brother Sledge, just without the muscles.
Ash patted
Hunter’s back, the tension in his body betraying his apprehension. Hunter
pulled backed, his smile dropping as his eyes landed on Ash’s forehead. He
brushed Ash’s fringe aside, examining the bruise like Ash was a small kid and
not a man who’d just turned twenty-six.
“What happened
to your head, Ash?” Hunter asked.
Ash shifted
about. “Banged it.”
“How?”
“Wuzn’t lookin’
where I wuz goin’.”
Hunter scowled.
“You’re lying. What really happened?”
Ash put a hand
on Hunter’s back and steered him towards an empty couch in the far corner.
“You’re making
me nervous, son,” Hunter said, sitting down.
Ash frowned.
“I’m not your son, Sledge is.”
“You’re a son
to me, and I didn’t bring up your brother.”
“You
should’ve.”
Hunter’s brows
pulled together. “What’s this about?”
“Me and Dante
wanna tell Sledge and Juliet they’re adopted, and that you’re their father.”
“No!” Hunter
yelled, then lowered his voice as everyone in the room turned to look at him.
“Don’t you dare,” he growled.
“They have
every right to know, and it’s wrong that you call me son and ignore your real
one.”
Hunter pointed
a finger at Ash. “I don’t give a damn whether it’s biological or not, you’re my
son, and I’ve never connected with the twins, Sledge especially. He’s a harsh
kid, who hardly ever talks to me.”
“Cos he doesn’t
know you’re his father.”
“And I want it
to stay that way.”
“You have no
right to steal his heritage. Both him and Juliet don’t even realise they have
Italian and Tongan blood. Christ, they speak Croatian better than I do. How do
ya think they’ll feel when they find out they’ve been brought up in the wrong
culture?”
“Devastated.
Which is why you need to keep your big mouth shut. Have you even considered the
consequences of what will happen when the twins find out your grandparents
aren’t theirs, especially after they were raised by them?”
“It still has
to be done.”
“Says you. And
you promised to keep this a secret. You know how I feel about them.”
“It’s not their
fault your woman died.”
“No, it’s mine
for gettin’ her pregnant, and if I hadn’t done that, she would still be alive—”
“—and the twins
wouldn’t exist,” Ash snapped. “I’m sorry Joanna died after giving birth, but
you should stop punishing Sledge and Juliet for sumpthin’ they had no control
over.”
Hunter shook
his head. “It’s too late now. What’s the point of dredging up the past? And if
you did, you won’t come out of this unscathed either. How do ya think the twins
will react when they realise you knew all along?”
“Upset, but I
ain’t backing down, it’s happening whether you’re on board or not.”
Hunter leaned
forward, his eyes flashing with anger. “Then why didja even bother to tell me?
Cos ya don’t give a shit ’bout what I think.”
“I do care; I
just wish you’d accept that it’s the right thing to do.”
“I fed and
clothed you, looked after you when you were suicidal, and yet you can’t even
gimme this one thing?”
Ash’s face
hardened. “I’m giving up the house for you.”
“What?”
“It’s being
sold to pay off the three-hundred grand you owe Craven, so we don’t hafta work
for him anymore.”
Fear filled
Hunter’s eyes. “You can’t quit.”
“Too late, it’s
done.”
Hunter shook
his head. “No, you’re putting everyone in danger.”
“No I’m not;
he’s agreed to take the money.”
“Like hell he
did!” Hunter yelled, again grabbing the attention of the other occupants in the
room. “He’s lying, he won’t let you free. Ever.”
“Then why did
he accept my offer?”
“I don’t know,
but I don’t owe that bastard nowhere near that amount, fifty grand at tops, and
he said I didn’t hafta pay it back, and I only told ja that BS ’bout the
three-hundred grand to stop ya from quitting, cos the only way people leave his
employment is through a coffin.”
Ash shook his
head. “You’re lying, my mate quit chauffeuring for him, and he’s still alive.”
“When did he
quit?”
“Just over
three months back.”
“When wuz the
last time you saw him?”
“A few days
after he quit.”
“Have ya seen
him recently?”
“No, he moved
overseas.”
“Have ya phoned
him, spoken to him at all since then?”
“No.”
“Then he’s
dead.”
Ash leaned
closer to Hunter. “He is not dead.”
“I’d bet
three-hundred grand he is.”
Ash got to his
feet, shaking with anger. “He is not dead,
you psychotic bastard.”
Hunter reared
up on Ash, making Dante push in between them. “Calm down both of you.”
Hunter glared
past him at Ash, looking like he wanted to yell, but instead his voice came out
dangerously low. “I may be psychotic, but
you, Ash, live in a fantasy world more than I do. You’ve worked for Craven
for ten years, yet you don’t even know the shit you’ve gotten yourself into.
Craven has a name for employees who quit: Liabilities.
He knows you don’t like him, so what assurances does he have once you’re out
from under his hand? None, cos you’re a witness in waiting in his mind.”
“I wouldn’t
rat.”
“You might say
that now, but what happens when the cops turn up at your doorstep, putting bogus
charges on you to get at Craven? It’s happened to me, that year in prison all
trumped up BS to get me to nark.”
“That wuz a
real charge.”
“It may have
been, but the coppers were after Craven, not me. They tried to make me nark on
him, said they’d let me walk if I did, but I refused, cos he would’ve killed
me, or if not me, you or Dante or maybe one of the twins. I know that, but you,
you think you’re safe, and cos of it you’ll nark on him to stay outta prison.
That, son, makes you a liability who needs to be taken out.”
“I don’t
believe you, cos he could’ve easily threatened my family, like the last time I
tried to quit, but he didn’t. He wants the money, and if I wuz him, I’d let us
go for three-hundred grand too.”
“Three-hundred
grand is Monopoly money to him. He has his finger in every illegal pie there
is. Now, if you gave him three million,
then yeah, he might consider it.”
Ash stepped
away from Hunter, his expression disgusted. “I know why you’re doin’ this. You
want us to keep working for that bastard so you get to keep your ready supply
of drugs.”
“Keep your
voice down,” Hunter hissed. “And you’re wrong, I’m clean.”
“You’re a drug
addict for life whether you’re clean or not. One shot of coke and it’ll be all
on again.”
Hunter raised a
finger. “I am clean, and you, boy, are delusional if you think
Craven will sit back and do nuthin’.”
Ash’s lip
curled. “I ain’t a boy anymore; I’m the head of the family.”
“No, I am, and you have no right to sell my
house.”
“Not my fault
you were stupid enough to put it under my name, now suffer the consequences for
gettin’ me tied in with Craven.”
“I never pushed
you into working for Craven, I wuz dead against it, so don’t you mouth off at
me, boy.”
Ash threw his
hands up in the air. “Believe what ya want, it’ll change nuthin’. We’re free
from Craven, and I’ve done my duty telling you. See ya when you get out, cos I
ain’t discussing this again.” He turned to leave.
“You ain’t
goin’ nowhere.” Hunter bashed into Ash from behind, ramming him into a wall.
Dante launched
himself at Hunter, grabbing him around the neck. “Let him go!”
“Not until he
agrees to ask Craven for your job back!” Hunter yelled.
Ash flung his
head back, butting Hunter in the face, then rammed his forehead into the wall.
Hunter let go and grabbed his bloodied nose, looking stunned. Guards rushed at
him, taking hold of his arms. Hunter let them as he stared at Ash, who slumped
onto the floor, cradling his forehead. Dante dropped down in front of Ash,
removing his brother’s hands to see the damage. Blood leaked from the bruises
that were already there, the rest of the skin reddening to match it. A nurse
ran over to help.
Hunter called
out, “Is Ash alright?”
Dante jump to
his feet as the guards pulled Hunter away. He followed them, one of the guards
yelling at him to back off. “I’m not gonna retaliate,” Dante said, making the
guards stop. “My brother hit his head on purpose.”
“Why did he do
that?” Hunter asked, the blood from his nose dripping onto his sweatshirt.
“You shouldn’t
have rammed him into the wall, he’s been abused.”
“I know, but
that happened ten years ago.”
Dante shook his
head. “It happened again this week.”
“What do ya
mean?” Hunter said, looking confused.
“Chaz escaped
prison and kidnapped him. You can take an educated guess on what went down.”
Hunter’s face
fell. “Oh God, no.” He looked over at Ash, who was being tended to by a nurse.
“I’m sorry, Ash, I didn’t know!”
Ash glanced up,
his eyes haunted as the nurse wound gauze around his head.
“Lemme go!”
Hunter yelled at the guards. “He’s my son! I wanna go to my son!”
Dante shook his
head. “Not today, wait until he’s stable.”
“But he won’t
come back.” Hunter looked at Ash. “I love you, son, I didn’t meana hurt you,
you must know that.”
Without
responding, Ash got to his feet and went for the door, asking the nurse to let
him out.
“Don’t walk
away from me!” Hunter yelled. “You’re everything to me.”
Ash turned, his
eyes flashing. “Sledge and Juliet should be everything to you, not me! How can
you ignore your own flesh and blood?”
“You’re my
flesh and blood, you’re my soul.”
Ash shook his
head, then turned to the door.
Hunter looked
like he was about to cry. “Everything I’ve done is to protect you and this
family. Please go back to Craven or it’ll all be for nuthin’.”
Ash yelled at
the nurse, “Lemme out!” The nurse swiped her card over the monitor.
“I hafta go,”
Dante said to Hunter.
“First tell me
you believe me ’bout Craven.”
“I believe
you,” Dante said, just saying it to calm Hunter down. “And I promise I’ll sort
this mess out with him.”
“Thanks, and
make sure that Ash knows I didn’t meana hurt him. I would never hurt him on
purpose.”
“’Kay.” Dante
patted Hunter’s arm, then strode to the door, indicating for the nurse to let
him out. He exited both doorways, relieved to find that Ash was waiting for him
in the reception area.
Ash got up from
the couch and headed for the exit, punching the security guard in the face. The
man crumpled to the floor. “That’s for insulting my bro!” Ash yelled at him,
then headed for Dante’s Holden, parked on the other side of the darkened car
park.
Covering his
nose, the guard pushed to his feet. “You won’t be allowed in here again!” he
shouted, his voice partially muffled by his hand
“That’s what he
wants,” Dante said as he walked past, feeling no satisfaction over the guard
getting hurt.
***
Dante turned off the main road and
drove past Claydon Primary School, the night tucking a dark blanket over the
buildings. “I think we should ask Craven for our jobs back,” he said, hoping
Ash didn’t bite his head off for saying it, but he knew he had to, because it
had been bothering him the whole ride back, Hunter’s words now getting to him.
“I can do the work for both of us, so Craven doesn’t needa know you’re out.”
Ash shook his
head. “You can’t carry the business on your own, and if this is ’bout what
Hunter said, ignore him, he’s full of shit.”
“I thought so
at first too, but ... I don’t think he would’ve barrelled into you like that
over drugs, he loves you, bro, and he did look scared.”
“Then why did
Craven accept our offer?”
“Cos you
threatened to kill him if he didn’t,” Dante said, turning onto their road, the
streetlamps few and far between.
“He could’ve
threatened us back, used our family against us like the last time, but he
didn’t, and anyway, who in their right mind would turn down three-hundred
grand?”
“Three-hundred
grand that Hunter may not owe him.”
“I told ja not
to believe Hunter, he’s nuts, he attacked me.”
“No, he wuz
tryna stop ya from leaving.”
“Bullshit. He
rammed me into that wall hard. He’s loco.”
“Maybe,” Dante steered
the Holden onto their driveway, parking behind Ash’s Chevy, “but you’re just as
nuts, cos he wuzn’t the one who hurt your head. You bashed it into that wall
like some psychotic looney tune. No sane person would do that.”
“You said it:
I’m not sane.” Ash jumped out of the car and headed for their home.
Dante locked up
and followed Ash up the front steps, wishing he could rewind today and start
over again, because this wasn’t what he wanted. He’d thought he had, but now,
the reality was setting in: He was going to be jobless soon, with debts coming
out of his arse. He glanced back at his car, wondering how the hell he was
going to pay it off, and not only that, but he couldn’t even put a dent in his
credit card bills, let alone pay for food, booze or ANYTHING! He was so fucked
it wasn’t funny.
He kicked off
his boots, not caring as they hit the wall, smearing the paintwork with mud,
because he wasn’t getting a cent from the sale of the house anyway, Craven
bleeding him dry.
Ash said
something, probably telling him off. Ignoring his brother, Dante stepped
inside, then froze, his eyes locked on the couch. Seated next to Ash’s
girlfriend, Kara stared back at him,
her blonde wavy hair framing a black-eye, bruised skin and a split lip. Dante
barely noticed as Ash took off down the passage with his girlfriend racing
after him, Tiana asking Ash what had happened to his forehead.
“Kako si, Dante?” Kara said, placing an
icepack on the coffee table.
“You’re asking
me how I am, lookin’ like that?” He
gestured to her face. “What the hell happened to you?”
Her tongue
flicked out to dab her split lip. “My husband beat me up,” she replied, her Croatian
accent thicker than normal, telling Dante she was nervous.
Dante’s jaw
hardened. “Gimme your address,” he said, walking towards her, “I’m gonna kill
the bastard.”
She shook her
head, then winced at what she’d done. “No, you can’t.”
“Why the fuck
not? He needs to pay for what he did to you.”
“What’s done is
done, and I don’t want you getting into trouble on my behalf, I’ve caused you
enough grief.” She removed the pink cardigan from around her shoulders, one
that belonged to Ash’s girlfriend, revealing a tight leopard-print dress with a
long zip down the front. A pale bruise coloured her chest, suggesting that
Kara’s husband had hurt her before today.
Dante sat down
on the coffee table in front of her. “This isn’t the first time he’s hurt you,
is it?”
“No, he beat me
a few days ago.” She dropped her gaze for a second, then looked back up, her
pale blue eyes almost colourless in the light. He looked into them, mesmerised.
Ash had said that eyes were windows to a person’s soul, but hers were the
windows to his.
She smiled at
him, although it came out as a wince, then she lowered her gaze again, but this
time focusing on his mouth. Her pupils dilated, her lust unmistakable.
Taken aback,
Dante stood up quickly, not expecting her reaction—nor his. She was battered
and bruised, yet he was getting turned-on, but not from her damaged state,
because for those few seconds her bruises had faded and all he saw was the
woman he’d fallen in love with—was still in love with, that revelation hitting
him hard. He’d thought he was over her, especially with Beth now in his life,
someone who he also loved, but one look at Kara and his heart broke all over
again.
“You should go
to the police,” he finally said, feeling awkward standing in front of her,
fidgeting like an addict.
She shook her
head. “No, my husband is too good a lawyer; he’ll make me out as the villain.”
“Unless he’s
covered in bruises, I don’t think so.”
“It doesn’t
matter, plus I brought this upon myself.”
Anger seared
through him. “Like hell you did! No man should raise a hand to a woman.”
“I hit him
too.”
“I don’t care,
and he pro’bly deserved it.”
Her lip pulled
up. “My knight in shining leather.”
He shoved his
hands into his pockets, not knowing what to say to that.
She patted the
cushion next to her. “Sit with me.”
Dante remained
where he was. “Why did he hit you?” he asked, saying the first thing that came
to mind, because there was no way he was getting close to her again.
“Because I told
him I should’ve married you.”
Dante’s mouth
went dry. “Što?” he
croaked out, the Croatian word for what
slipping through.
“You heard me,”
she said, her gaze unflinching.
Dante opened
his mouth, but nothing came out. He’d dreamt of this moment for so long, played
it over and over again in his mind’s eye, where Kara would return to him,
saying she’d made a mistake, but it had just been a fantasy, because he never
thought it would actually happen, especially after the cruel names she’d called
him before walking out.
Kara brushed
her soft curls aside. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”
He frowned.
“What do ya expect me to say? I haven’t seen you in three years, yet you walk
in here telling me we should’ve gotten married, like that last day between us
never happened?”
“That was one
day out of a year and a half of us being together, and one day I wish I could
take back.”
“Why? Unless
you missed your favourite whipping boy.”
“I understand
you’re upset, and I’m sorry for that, but if you would allow me, I would very
much like to make things up to you.”
He sniffed.
“You have a nerve saying that.”
“Why?”
“Cos you can’t
take back what you said, what you did. You called me a whore and walked out on
me like I wuzn’t worth your time, like our relationship meant nuthin’.”
“I called you a
prostitutka—”
“It’s the same
thing!”
“You didn’t let
me finish. I meant to say, I called you a prostitutka
out of anger, not because you were one, but because I was in pain. I knew my
time with you was coming to an end, so I lashed out at the one person who
didn’t deserve it.”
“What are you
on about?” Dante said, totally confused, her words not making sense.
“You’re a
beautiful and sensuous man, Dante; you weren’t made for one woman, but many,
even though I wish you were mine alone, because you’re everything I want in a
man.”
“You’re
sounding like you think I cheated. I told ja then and I’m telling ya now, I never
did. All I wanted wuz you.”
She smiled.
“You mean that?”
“I wouldn’t
have said it if I didn’t.”
She dropped her
gaze for a moment, then looked back up at him, her soulful eyes reaching inside
of him and twisting his gut. “Please forgive me,” she said.
He shifted
about, both wanting and not wanting to, then finally breathed out, realising
that this wasn’t right, that he shouldn’t be arguing with her when she had been
viciously beaten. “No, I’m the one who should apologise, you’re all bashed up
and I’m yelling at you, it ain’t right.”
“No, you have a right to be mad at me. And
don’t worry about how I look, because the bruises will fade...” She pointed at
his chest, “...but I can see that the scars I put on your heart haven’t. I did
you wrong, and I am truly sorry for that, and if I can, I want to help heal
those scars, because I love you, Dante, always have.”
“Jesus,” Dante
said, running a hand over his face, the woman absolutely flooring him.
“Still taking
the Lord’s name in vain?” she said with a sad smile.
“What do ya
expect me to say?”
“I know it’s
too much to ask, but I prayed all the way here that you would say you loved me
too.”
“I can’t.”
“Because you
don’t?”
He turned his
back on her, not willing to admit anything. She stood up, moving around to his
front. Although the woman was a head shorter than him, she made him feel so
small.
“I know I am a
selfish woman,” she said, “but to be selfish, a person must want something—or
someone so bad that they are willing to fight and scream, and to walk over others
to get it, even if they don’t deserve that precious prize. And I’m willing to
do that for you, Dante.”
“I’m not a
prize.”
“I didn’t mean
it like that, all I meant to say is that you’re precious to me, and I know I
shouldn’t be asking this, but please allow me to be with you again, for us to
have what I stupidly lost.”
“You can’t be
serious?”
“I am very serious, and this time I won’t walk
away from you, because I want to live with you forever.”
“Well, you
can’t,” he said, not believing her nerve—or the strange words leaving her
mouth.
“Please, Dante,
don’t make me leave.”
“No, you’re the
one who left—”
“—and now I’ve
returned.”
“There’s no
room for you here.”
“Not even in
your bed?” she said, running her fingers down his chest.
Shaking his
head, he took a step back. This wasn’t happening, this was all a dream. He ran
a hand roughly over his face, but she was still standing there, her soulful
eyes filled with longing. Longing? Jesus,
he was turning into a sap, and a delusional one at that, because she didn’t
really want him, other than to use him for a place to stay.
“Find someone
else to leech off,” he said.
“I have nowhere
else to go.”
He sneered, her
words confirming his thoughts. “You can’t stay here. I have a woman now, and
she’s the jealous type.”
Kara stared at
him, then her face cracked, her pale eyes glossing over with unshed tears. “Oprosti mi,” she apologised, “Of course
you’ve moved on.”
Dante’s sneer
dropped, guilt replacing it. “Don’t cry.”
“No! I deserve
all of this.” She snatched her bag off the coffee table and rushed for the
door.
Dante grabbed
her arm. “Where will you go?”
She wrenched it
free. “Home; where I belong.”
“You can’t go
back there.”
“What choice do
I have? I have nowhere else to go!” she yelled, her face so vulnerable, making
him want to wrap his arms around her and say everything was going to be
alright, but it wasn’t, because he was with Beth now, and even if he wasn’t, he
couldn’t return to the way things were between him and Kara, because she was
too dominant, too demanding, and their time apart had made him realise that. He
didn’t like being dominated, hated being made to feel small, to be her whipping
boy again. He wasn’t like that before he’d met her, nor now, but he would fall
into that trap again if he took her back—which he knew without a doubt.
She went to
leave again, but he pulled her into his arms, silently cursing himself for
doing it. “You can stay in my room,” he said, sure that she could feel his
heart hammering against her cheek. “I’ll take the couch. And I’ll make sure my
woman understands. She’s coming over tomorrow. I can stay with her for a few
days, give you some time to find someplace else.”
She looked up
at him. “But I don’t want to run you out of your own home.”
“It doesn’t
matter; it’s being sold anyway, so it won’t be my home for much longer.”
“Where are you
moving to?” she asked, her hands lowering to his arse.
“Howick,” he
said, letting go of her, knowing this was all wrong, that he couldn’t even hug
her without it turning sexual.
“But you’re a
South Aucklander through and through, so why would you move out east?” she
asked, looking like she hadn’t just felt him up. Maybe she hadn’t done it on
purpose, because she was short, but
even the most innocent of things between them always turned sexual: A hug was
never just a hug, while a smile always had underlying currents flowing beneath
it, which all led to the bedroom.
“Dante?” she
said. “Are you going to answer me?”
“Sorry,” he
replied, trying to remember what she’d asked—and failing. “What didja say?”
“Why are you
moving out east?”
“Cos Ash thinks
it’ll be safer for his family, plus he wants to cut ties with Craven, so we
hafta sell the house.”
She frowned.
“Why would you do that for? From memory, Craven pays well.”
Dante exhaled,
his fears returning. Again, he wondered how he could stay working for Craven
without upsetting Ash. “I don’t wanna quit,” he finally said, “but I hafta
support Ash.”
“But, you love
your job.”
“I don’t love
it, and if I did, my bro means more to me.” Yes,
Ash did, which meant he should quit feeling sorry for himself and start
looking for labouring jobs, because he couldn’t work in retail with his facial
tattoo, plus he kind of had a police record. Shit, who would employ him with
that?
“But you’ll
have nothing left if you hand everything over to Craven,” she said. “How will
you support yourself without a job or a home?”
“I’d rather
lose all of that than Ash.”
“Aren’t you both
moving?”
“Pro’bly.”
“Then why did
you say you’ll lose him?”
“It’s
complicated and I really don’t wanna go into it, plus it’s late. Let’s get you
settled into my room.” He turned and headed down the passage, conscious that
Kara was right behind him. He didn’t want her in his room, especially since it
made him think about what they used to do in there: On the bed, up against the
wall, on the floor, over the cabinet, even in the bloody wardrobe... Fuck, he
couldn’t deal with this. He pushed his clothes off the bed, grabbed a blanket,
then turned to leave.
Kara blocked
his way, the look in her eyes telling him she was remembering the same things.
“You don’t have to leave,” she said, her eyes flicking to the bed. “Really, we
can share.”
He snorted.
“Yeah, and I know where that would lead.”
“Is that so
wrong?”
“Yes, I’ve
already told ja I have a girlfriend, and unlike what you believe, I’m not a cheat.”
“I told you, I
don’t think you’re a cheat.”
Then why do people treat me like one? Because,
unlike Beth, he’d never cheated on a partner. The women he’d slept with,
excluding Kara and Beth, were nothing more than one night stands and flings.
Kara said
something, but he didn’t catch it.
“Što?”
he said.
“I asked how
long have you been with this Beth?”
“A
few days,” he mumbled, wondering how she’d gotten onto that topic.
She frowned.
“So, you hardly know her?”
He shook his
head, feeling ashamed. “She used to be Ash’s partner. He dumped her last
Saturday,” because I fucked her.
Kara looked
confused. “But Ash is with Tiana, and if he wasn’t, why would you take his
lover?”
“Ash got back
with Tiana after dumping Beth, and I didn’t mean for things to happen between
me and Beth.”
“But, that’s
not fair on Ash, and regardless, you shouldn’t be with her; blood is thicker
than any woman.”
“He
understands.”
She started
walking towards him. “Do you love her?”
Dante stepped backwards,
knocking into the bed. “Yes.”
“As much as you
used to love me?”
He lifted his
chin. “More,” he lied.
She flinched.
“Really?”
“Yes,” he said
softly. Yesterday he’d been a hundred percent sure Beth was all he needed, but
seeing Kara in the flesh made him question himself. She had meant everything to
him for the time they’d been together, and had still meant so much for a long
time afterwards. But when Beth had walked into his life, he’d stopped thinking
about Kara, Beth taking up residence in his mind. It had been both a curse and
a blessing, because at that stage Beth hadn’t been his either, but now... shit,
how could he still love Kara when he loved Beth?
“I’m sorry to
hear that you no longer care for me,” Kara said.
I never said that. But there was
no way he would admit it to her, especially after the way she’d treated him so
badly. He didn’t want that again. I don’t
want that! He just had to keep repeating it over and over again, because
otherwise he would go back to the way things were, running around to please her
erratic moods, feeling pussy-whipped and emasculated. Shit, he also felt like
that with Beth sometimes. What the fuck had he turned into?
Kara ran a hand
over her breasts. His gaze dropped to them. The zip up the middle of her dress was
sitting below the bottom of her bra, showing her heavenly cleavage. He didn’t
remember the zip being that low before they’d walked into the room, but he
didn’t recall seeing her moving it down either. He bit his lip, feeling guilty
for looking at her tits, the bruise on the left one yellowing her pale skin,
but they still looked so damn good. He imagined unzipping the dress completely,
then ripping the bra’s flimsy material, because it was a fucking travesty to
cover those beauties. She had the biggest nipples, which were poking out from
beneath the material, which he used to love to bite, her screams always going
straight to his cock. And he also loved burying his cock between her tits,
using them to sandwich it as he rubbed himself to orgasm, giving her the only
pearl necklace he could afford.
“Oh God,
Dante,” she gasped, making him look back up at her face. Her eyes were huge as
she gaped down at his cock, all but opening her mouth to welcome it inside that
warm, wet opening. His hand went to it, then jerked back, shocked to find the
bastard poking out the top of his leathers, the tip already weeping pre-cum.
Shit! Maybe she was right about him, that he
was a prostitutka, someone born to fuck, but he didn’t
want to be, and especially not if it meant hurting Beth.
He shoved his
cock back into his pants roughly, using the pain to focus himself, then rushed
past Kara with the blanket, heading for the lounge. He closed the door behind
him and leaned against it, praying that she didn’t follow, because there was no
fucking way he was cheating on Beth.
When Kara
didn’t try to open the door, he settled on the couch and covered himself with
the blanket, knowing he wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight, his painful
hard-on proof of that. Making sure his body was hidden, he unzipped his pants
and brought up an image of Beth, her long black hair so different from Kara’s
blonde. He started moving his hand up and down his shaft, his mind flicking
between the two women, their bodies both beautiful in their differences, one
slim while the other all curves. He groaned, thinking about how much he loved
touching both of them, how he wanted to be sandwiched between their breasts,
their mouths kissing him all over, their hands touching him everywhere. He came
quickly, biting his lip to stop from groaning, then froze as someone cleared
their throat. He kicked his head back and looked across the room at the passage
doorway. Kara was leaning against the frame, the woman always too sneaky for
his good.
She smiled at
him, her gaze filled both with amusement and lust. “You should have let me do
that, dragi.”
“I am not your
darling,” he said, breathing heavily, his mind still fogged with the orgasm.
“You’ll always
be my dragi,” she said, taking a step
closer.
He spun around,
making sure his lower half was still covered. “Go back to my room now.”
She rolled her
tongue in her mouth, then flicked it out, the Devil’s fire igniting in her
eyes. “Not before I clean you up,” she said, the old Kara finally baring her
teeth.
“I’ll clean
myself.” With the blanket still covering him, he pushed off the couch and
stormed past her and into the bathroom. He locked the door before Kara could
follow him inside. The handle turned, making him take a step back, even though
he knew she couldn’t enter. “If you don’t back off,” he said, “you can’t stay
here.”
“I’m not going
anywhere, Dante,” she said, on the other side. “Especially now I know you still
want me.”
“You’re
married.”
“I’ll be
getting a divorce.”
“I’m with
Beth.”
“Not for long.”
The floorboards creaked as she walked down the passage, then what sounded like
his bedroom door closed.
He dropped his
head for a moment, not believing her nerve. No, he did, she’d always been like
that, taking what she wanted regardless of whether he was willing to give it to
her or not. The first night he’d met her, she shoved a female off his lap at a
party, then without so much as a ‘Hello’
or ‘What’s your name?’ she’d sat on
his lap and shoved her tongue into his mouth, which was quickly followed by
Dante carrying her to a bedroom.
He stripped off
his clothing, wishing he didn’t want her, then got into the shower, turning it
to cold and forcing himself to stay under. When he felt like a block of ice, he
turned the water off, wrapped a towel around his hips and headed for his room.
He went to knock, wanting to get some clean clothes, but instead turned to
Ash’s door, knowing it was the safer option, because there was no way that Kara
would allow him to leave the room a second time, and he wasn’t sure he had the
strength to either.
His brother
poked his head out. “What?”
“Can Angelo
sleep in your room tonight? Kara’s in mine.”
“No worries.”
Ash went to his son’s room, gently picked up the sleeping nine-year-old boy and
returned to his own room.
Dante settled
himself on Angelo’s bed, although he knew he wasn’t going to get any sleep
knowing that Kara was on the other side of the wall, leaving her scent on his
sheets, her body naked, hot... He closed his eyes, remembering how she used to
twist into his side, pressing her tits up against him, encouraging him to fuck
her one more time before they fell asleep.
Kara’s face
filled his head, but without the bruises, only lust colouring her features. “Go
away,” he whispered, wishing she’d never returned. He rolled onto his side and
focused on the wall, imagining that Kara was looking at the same spot. He
frowned, annoyed that he was thinking about her like that, mooning like some
love-struck git. His mind went to Beth, feeling like he was betraying her with
his juvenile thoughts. He wished she was lying next to him, pressing her body
against his, writhing in pleasure, her black hair blanketing him instead of
Kara’s blonde waves. Yeah, he wanted to wrap his arms around Beth, not Kara.
You’re a liar.
No, I’m not,
because I do want Beth—
—AND Kara.
He focused on
the Croatian words tattooed on his left arm, something he should’ve gotten rid
of when Kara had left him. He ran a finger over the black writing, the same
words tattooed over Kara’s heart:
MI SMO JEDAN
“We are one,”
he whispered, wishing he still didn’t believe it.
3
Saturday
Beth parked her Volkswagen behind the
silver sedan sitting in front of Dante’s place, then got out, her nerves being
played like a string quartet. She wanted to see Dante—but didn’t want to see
Ash. Although Ash had been polite on the car ride back from Dargaville, it had
still been incredibly awkward, and it wasn’t just over her cheating on him with
Dante. He’d looked like a scared boy in desperate need of a cuddle, something
she ached to give him, but she knew he would’ve misunderstood the gesture, so
she’d kept her hands to herself. And it wasn’t like she wanted to get back with
him. She didn’t. Although she knew she would always love Ash, she loved Dante
more, but she still didn’t like seeing her ex so broken.
She pushed open
the gate and headed up the footpath. She was a bit early, the time just before
nine in the morning, but she was aching to find out how everything had gone
with Craven and Hunter the day before.
She knocked on
the front door. A few seconds later it pulled open. She looked down at Angelo,
Ash’s nine-year-old son, the boy a smaller and darker replica of Ash.
“Hello,
Angelo,” she said, hoping his mother wasn’t up yet. She didn’t want to see
Ash’s girlfriend either, the woman he’d gotten back together with so fast after
he’d left Beth, which made her feel even worse, knowing that she could be so
easily replaced. But she didn’t want to be with him either, so why was she so
upset over it. Pride, yeah, it was
just pride, not some latent longing.
Angelo pulled a
face at her. “My mum said you’re a nasty cow who beat up my dad.”
“I didn’t beat
him up.”
“You slapped
him.”
“That’s not
beating him up.”
He poked his
tongue out at her then ran off, disappearing out the back of the house.
Closing the
door behind her, Beth called out Dante’s name. When no one answered, she headed
down the passage towards his bedroom. Her gaze brushed Ash’s closed door as she
passed by, hoping that he didn’t emerge from it—or worse: Tiana. She heard a
shower turn off on the opposite side of the passage, so she quickly scurried to
Dante’s room, letting herself in without knocking. She closed the door behind
her, then froze, doing a double take. A woman’s head was poking out the top of
Dante’s duvet, with her wavy blonde hair fanning in all directions.
“What the
hell?!” Beth screamed.
The woman shot
up straight. The duvet fell from her body, revealing large, bruised breasts and
inked skin. A rosary was tattooed around her right hand and forearm, while
roses twisted up the other side of her torso, but what caught Beth’s attention
the most was the words inked over the woman’s heart: the same text that was on
Dante’s arm.
Beth rushed
forward and grabbed the woman by her hair, not giving a stuff that the bitch
was battered and bruised. The woman screamed as Beth yanked her out of the bed.
“Get outta here!” Beth yelled, shoving her towards the door.
The woman
banged into the wooden frame, then before Beth could blink, the banshee rushed
at her, screaming words she didn’t understand. Beth yelled out as she was
pushed onto the bed. The woman climbed on top of her and slapped Beth hard
across her face, the sting of her nails raking Beth’s flesh. Beth hollered and
lashed out, knocking the woman onto the floor, then launched herself on top of
the bitch, screaming at the top of her lungs, “You’re dead!”
“GET OFFA
HER!!”
Both of them
froze, their eyes darting to the doorway, where Dante stood dripping wet and
shivering, with a towel wrapped around his hips.
“Get offa her!”
he said again, his glare on Beth like she was the one in the wrong.
Anger rose
through Beth, making her jump up and rush at him. He stumbled into the passage
as she ploughed into him. “You cheating bastard!” she screamed, shoving him
back further.
He held out his
hands, looking stunned, like he didn’t understand why she was angry. She shoved
him again, ignoring Ash and Tiana as they looked out of their bedroom. “You
said you loved me!” she shouted at Dante. “But you’re barely a day away from me
and you’re already sleeping around.”
That seemed to
snap him out of his daze. “I didn’t sleep with her.”
Beth flung an
arm backwards, pointing at his room. “How can you say that with that naked
bitch standing there?”
“I didn’t sleep
with her. That’s Kara.”
“Kara? As in
your ex?”
“Yeah.”
The image of
the text filled her mind, it’s placement over Kara’s heart making Beth scream
louder: “Do you think that makes it alright? That you can fuck her cos she’s
your ex?”
“I didn’t fuck
her!”
“How can you
lie to my face when I caught you red-handed?”
“I’m not lying!
I slept in Angelo’s room. She needed a place to stay after her husband beat her
up.”
“Do you think
I’m stupid?”
“No, I’m stupid
for thinking you trusted me.”
Beth spat out
the first thing that came to mind, instantly regretting it, “I could never
trust you!”
Dante flinched,
his expression telling her she’d hurt him.
“I didn’t mean
that,” she quickly said, although she did, the man so impulsive it made her
want to scream, so unpredictable that she never knew what was up or down.
He bared his
teeth, signalled his rising anger, which looked ready to bubble over and burn
her. “You’re the liar, not me,” he snarled. “I knew you would eventually say
what you really thought, cos no one trusts me. No one! All I am is a lying,
cheating slut, who doesn’t know how to be faithful.” He sneered. “Ironic that
it wuz you who cheated on my bro by
sleeping with me. Guess we’re both sluts.”
“I’m not a
slut!” she snapped back, aching to slap him for the comment. “What do you
expect me to think when I find some woman sleeping in your bed?” She looked
back at Kara, who now had a blanket wrapped around her body, the woman’s eyes
fixed on Dante. Kara’s gaze flicked to Beth, then she stepped back into Dante’s
room, closing the door behind her. Oh, no
she didn’t! Beth went for the door, because there was still no way she was
allowing that bitch to stay here.
Dante grabbed
her arm and wrenched her around. “Leave her alone!”
Beth pulled
free. “Why? Or are you more concerned about her than me?”
“Don’t you dare
try to manipulate me.”
“You have a
nerve saying that, sleeping behind my back with that inked-up tramp.”
“I did nuthin’
with her! For Christ’s sake, I already told ja that.”
She poked his
arm, pointing at one of his tattoos. “That tramp has the same writing. What
does it mean?”
He took a step
back, practically squirming. “That doesn’t concern you.”
“Yes it does!
So what does it mean?”
“We are one.”
Beth felt her
heart skip, her chest ache, those words telling her that she was just a fill-in
for another woman, like she had been for Ash. “You still love her?”
Dante grimaced.
“I love you more.”
“Which means
you still love her.”
“What I had
with Kara is in the past.”
“I would
believe that if she wuzn’t here in the present.”
“You calling me
a liar again?”
“Yes, cos you’re
lying ’bout your feelings for her, and you pro’bly agreed to have her here so
you could be near her again.”
“I didn’t lie,
I told ja the truth, and I have no wish for her to be here.”
Beth grabbed
his arm. “Then why didn’t you get this tattoo removed.”
“It’s just
words.”
“No it’s not!
Cos you still love her.”
“Stop saying
that!” He pulled his arm free. “I’ve had enough of this shit. Just fuck off.”
“No, she has to
leave, not me!”
“She’s got
nowhere else to go.”
“That bitch
leaves now or I will.”
His face
hardened. “’Kay, go then, and when you walk out that door, don’t come back.”
Beth shook her
head, now panicking, his words not what she’d expected, and most definitely not
what she wanted, far from it. Instead, she wanted him to kick the bitch out and
to tell Beth he loved her and that he was sorry, and that this would never
happen again.
“No, you don’t
mean that,” she finally said, his harsh gaze making her want to yell at him
that he was the one in the wrong, not her, but she couldn’t, because that would
push him over the edge, and she didn’t want to experience that again, because
the last time he’d had a bipolar episode it had scared the hell out of her.
“Why not?”
Dante snapped. “You already think I cheated on you, which means it’s over.”
No, this wasn’t happening, not again! “But
you said you loved me.”
“I do, but if
you don’t trust me, you’ll end up leaving me like Kara did all those years ago.
She did the exact same thing to me, telling me I wuz a lying, cheating whore
when I did nuthin’ wrong, and I’m not goin’ through that again. I’m sick of
jealous women making my life hell!”
He turned to
leave. Panicked, she grabbed his arm again. He yanked free and headed for the
bathroom. Now desperate, she ran after him, trying to stop him.
He turned on
her and swatted her hands away. “Don’t touch me!”
“No, Dante,
please don’t do this, I love you so much.”
“You have a
shit way of showing it.”
“This isn’t my
fault.”
“No, you think
it’s mine.”
“Why are you
doin’ this to me? I should be the one angry, not you, I didn’t cause this; you
did by letting that woman back into your life—our lives.”
“I didn’t cause
this! You did with your distrust. Ironic since I’ve never cheated on anyone—unlike you.”
His words
slapped Beth in the face again. “I would never cheat on you.”
“So, I’m
s’posed to believe you, when you don’t believe me?”
“You gotta
understand how all this looks to me.”
“No I bloody
don’t. You jumped to your own conclusions. Now, if I wuz on top of Kara,
fucking her, then yeah, I’d understand all this shit being piled on me, but the
only thing I’d been pumping for the past hour wuz the weights in the garage.”
“It didn’t look
like that to me with you wearing only a towel.”
“I had a shower
after my bloody workout.”
“You could’ve
been washing off the sex.”
He pointed a
finger at her, his face vicious. “Keep your shit opinions to yourself, cos you
caused this problem—like all the other ones. We’ve barely been together a week,
and we’ve already had loads of arguments, and every chance you get, you insult
me. I don’t even know why you’re with me.”
“I don’t insult
you all the time; and I’m with you cos I love you.”
“You don’t love
me, love involves trust.”
“I did trust
you until I saw that woman in your bed, and you’ve gotta see it from my point
of view.”
“No I don’t!”
He put his hands to his head. “Why do I even bother with relationships, cos it
always ends like this, tearing my fuckin’ heart out, it’s not worth it, it
hurts too much. I should be like my old man, a hermit. He’s got the right idea,
cos at least he doesn’t get his heart stomped on at every turn. I’m not made
for relationships! So. Leave. Me. The. Fuck. Alone!” He entered the bathroom,
slamming the door behind him.
She tried to
push it open, but he’d locked it. She started banging on the door. “Dante, open
up! I’m sorry!”
“Go away!”
“No, we hafta
talk this through.”
“Talking’s
over, we’re done!”
“Don’t say
that! We love each other, we can sort things out.”
“What’s the
fuck for? Cos you’d do the same to me again. No, it’s over, leave.”
“But I love you!”
“No one loves
me!” he hollered, then kicked the door, making Beth jump back. A crash on his
side followed, making Beth’s heart beat faster, Dante no doubt destroying the
bathroom.
“Beth! Leave
now!” Tiana shouted behind her.
Beth glanced
over her shoulder at Tiana. Dressed in a crimson dressing-gown, Ash’s
girlfriend was glaring at Beth like she was the root of all evil.
“I’ll call the
police if you don’t leave,” Tiana added, her wavy brown hair a mess, sleep her
stylist.
Beth shook her
head. “No, this is just a misunderstanding.”
“No it’s not,
Dante doesn’t want you here, so leave and don’t come back.”
Beth glanced
over Tiana’s shoulder at Ash, who was standing in his doorway, looking like a
replica of Dante, just without the facial tattoo, his neck tat noticeable above
his T-shirt. He turned around, heading back into the room she’d once shared
with him.
“Don’t you dare
look at Ash,” Tiana snapped. “He’s finished with you, like Dante is too, and
’bout time they came to their senses.”
Beth refocused
on Tiana. “I wuzn’t lookin’ at Ash inappropriately, and I hafta sort this mess
out with Dante, I love him,” she said, wanting Tiana to understand that she
wasn’t in anyway a threat to the woman’s relationship.
“No!” Tiana
yelled. “Dante deserves better than you. He’s told me all about how you insult
him. That man is like a brother to me, and I won’t allow you to hurt him or my
man any more. So get out!”
Beth couldn’t
believe this was happening, that she was being punished for finding another
woman in Dante’s bed. And regardless of whether he’d cheated, she knew she’d
forgive him, because she couldn’t lose him, not after what they’d found
together, his passion reaching deep inside of her, making her think she was
just as crazy as he was, but with love. She knew it was sappy, but she couldn’t
help it.
Tiana’s face
hardened with hatred. “Get out of this house before I slap you like you slapped
my man,” she hissed.
“I’m sorry, I
didn’t mean for that to happen, it wuz a misunderstanding. I’ve already
apologised to Ash. Please, just lemme talk to Dante and everything will be
sorted—” Her head whipped to the side, Tiana’s slap silencing her.
Bursting into
tears, Tiana took off into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. Beth
brought a hand to her cheek and stared at the door, not understanding why on
earth Tiana was crying over hitting her, or maybe she’d walked into the
Twilight Zone, where everything was up the wop and totally insane—like this
whole family.
The shower
started, making her turn back to the bathroom and bang on the door, pleading
for Dante to come out. He swore, telling her to leave. She leaned against the
door and slid down it, planning on waiting him out. A shadow loomed over her.
Dante’s ex was now dressed in one of his singlets, and wasn’t that a kick to
the guts. Because...
HE
WAS
HERS!
Beth jumped to
her feet, wanting to punch the bitch’s smirk off her face.
Kara cocked her
head to the side. “If you strike me it’ll only make him angrier.”
Beth lowered
her fist. “Get out,” she ground out, digging her nails into her palms, the pain
stopping her from going postal on the bitch.
Smiling, Kara
leaned forward and whispered in Beth’s ear, “By the way, he was fucking great
last night. Thanks for looking after him, but now I’m back: bye-d-bye.”
“I’m not leaving!
You are!”
“In your
dreams, because I’m going back to Dante’s bed, where the covers smell of his
cum. I knew I should’ve washed, but oh, I do like to keep him inside of me for
as long as possible. Dribble, dribble, dribble.”
Beth stared at
her, totally shocked by the woman’s crassness, and worse, the confirmation that
Dante had cheated—and lied to her about it.
Smiling, Kara
spun around and headed for Dante’s room.
“Oh, no you
don’t!” Beth shouted, snapping out of her shock. She stormed after Kara, but got
the door slammed in her face. The lock clicked followed by a laugh, making Beth
yell out in fury. “You bitch! Get out now!”
“Beth!”
Beth turned as
Ash stepped out from his bedroom. God, it was like everyone in the house was
working against her, one person after another making her run the gauntlet of
emotions.
“Please leave,
you’re upsetting everyone,” Ash said, the look on his face making her cringe,
his features full of sorrow. She didn’t want to upset him, hated what he’d been
through, so she did the only thing she knew how to: She left.
Unable to hold
back the tears, she headed outside, but even as she got into her car, she knew
this was far from over. She was going to get Dante back if it meant killing
that bitch, because there was no way on God’s green earth that she was losing
another Rata brother.
No Way!
Kara was sitting on the bed, staring at
the door, willing Dante to walk through it. He’d been in the bathroom for well
over an hour, doing God only knew what, which hopefully didn’t involve a razor
and his wrists. The thought almost made her spring off the bed, but she quickly
dismissed it, because there was no way Dante would commit suicide over a woman
of little worth such as Beth, plus he was
the one who’d broken up with the witch, not the other way round, which pleased
Kara no end.
A door banged
down the passage, making Kara’s hopes rise. Dante had to come to his bedroom to
get some clean clothes—unless he
borrowed Ash’s. She got to her feet, nervous that he could be doing that, then
leaving without telling her, which made sense considering he hadn’t come into
his room earlier to get his work-out clothes. But maybe he’d used some dirty
ones from the bathroom, which was a distinct possibility since he could be a
dirty, dirty boy sometimes.
Her fears
evaporated as the door-handle turned. She quickly sat back down on the bed,
suppressing a sigh of relief when Dante stepped inside. He had a towel wrapped
around his hips, his expression shell-shocked as though he’d witnessed a
horrific crime. She wondered whether he’d taken a hit of drugs, because his
eyes were unfocused. He touched under his nose then sniffed, like he was
getting rid of the remnants of a powder, most likely coke, something he’d taken
when she’d been with him. Yeah, he was high alright, because his muscles were
twitching. For a second Kara felt guilty, knowing she’d caused this, then she
pushed it to the back of her mind. She was here for a purpose, not to be his
guardian angel.
“Oprosti mi, Dante,” she apologised,
making him jump as though he hadn’t realised she was in the room.
He looked at
her, his expression confused, then he shook his head, his drug addled mind
probably piecing together why she was half-naked and on his bed. “It’s not your
fault,” he finally said. He slumped down on the bed, getting the covers wet,
the sheen of water making his tattoos glisten. Her mouth went dry for a second,
wishing she could moisten it by licking the water off him. Da, she would, but not before warming him up.
She got up and closed
the door, then bobbed down in front of him, purposely giving him a view of her
breasts. His eyes did what she wanted, fixing on her fabulous twins.
“I should apologise
to Beth,” he said to her breasts. “It did look bad, you in my bed, me in a
towel.”
She took a hold
of his hands. “No, Dante, this is her fault, not yours. I even told her you
didn’t do anything with me, but she wouldn’t listen.”
He pulled a
face, then looked at the door as though he expected Beth to burst through it,
which Kara could believe, the woman a bulldozer, someone who ripped through
barriers without giving a person the chance to defend themselves.
“But I love
her,” Dante said.
“And if she
loved you back, dragi, she wouldn’t
have treated you so badly.”
He pulled his
hands free. “You used to treat me the same way, draga,” he said, putting emphasis on the feminine version for darling.
“Which I truly
regret. I was young and stupid, and crazy with jealousy,” she said, recounting
the lines she’d formulated while he was in the bathroom. “And if I was thinking
logically, I wouldn’t have ruined our relationship.”
He frowned.
“I’m not used to you apologising; I wuz the one who always had to grovel.”
She took his
hands again, wishing she could kiss his scowl away. “Which is why I have a lot
to make up for, and I’ve grown since we’ve been apart—for the better.” She hid
the lie with a kiss to his hand, wishing she’d grown into someone he could be
proud of—no, someone her family could be proud of, because Dante never judged
her, unlike her older sister. No doubt her overly religious sister would be
horrified with what Kara had become: a whore to the very men Marina would kill
without remorse.
Dante’s frown
deepened. “I’m the same as when you left me. No, I’m worse.”
Oh, no, you’re definitely better. Her
eyes wondered down to his six-pack, then to his new tattoos, her gaze almost
glazing over with lust. God, the man was pure sex, his tattoos again making her
want to lick them. “You seem fine by me,” she said. Real fine. Letting go of one of his hands, she reached for the
tattoo around his left eye, the curving Māori design so intriguing. She’d
originally thought it had been black, but up close she saw that it was a dark
green, the colour of the forests at night where she used to play hide and seek with
her sister.
He moved his
head to avoid her touch.
“I like your
new tattoos.” She lowered her hand to his right arm, tracing the colourful
designs, a mixture of Māori and Croatian imagery, representing his cultural
heritage. He’d only had tattoos on his left arm when she’d left, but now he had
them covering both arms and a canoe tattoo on his back, which resembled what
the Māori people called a waka. Her
eyes flicked back up to the facial design, her favourite one, apart from the We Are One tattoo connecting them
together.
“What are you
staring at?” he said, his muscles still twitching.
“Your tattoos, dragi.”
“I told ja to
stop calling me that. I’m not your
darling.”
“I know,” but I wish you were. “It’s just hard to
lose endearments,” but even harder losing
you. She refocused on one of the tattoos on his arm, tracing the koru with a fingertip. The black
curvature design weaved itself through the checked Croatian crest, almost
violent in its penetration, something she would normally have considered a
travesty. But she understood what it represented, the combination of two
cultures. And she wanted him to penetrate her too, to combine their cultures
completely, making them one again.
He flinched but
let her continue touching the tattoo, his dark eyes watching her face, intense
and voracious. She’d always loved that about him, still did, because he was
looking at her like he wanted to eat her up, but not in the same way as Craven,
because unlike the wolf, Dante’s expression was erotic, filled with promises of
pleasure. Da, both of them could
feast on each other, ending this famine she’d been forced to bear.
“Why are you
still staring at me?” Dante asked, breaking through her thoughts.
“Because you
are beautiful—and you are staring at me also. Do you think I’m beautiful too?”
“A woman is
beautiful, not a man, and I’m not stroking your ego.”
“Beauty can be
masculine just as much as feminine, and I’d love you to stroke my ego. By the
way, my ego is here,” she said, reaching between her legs.
His lip
twitched, telling her he was irritated, but he said nothing. She wondered
whether his irritation was with her, or more likely himself, because he wasn’t
moving, the desire she saw keeping him chained to the bed. She smiled,
imagining him chained to it literally—and what she’d do to him while he was
helpless. Oh dear Lord, that was a dangerous thought.
Unable to help
herself, and not wanting to either, she leaned forward to kiss him, barely
brushing his lips before he shot up off the bed, making her fall onto the
floor.
“I’m not having
sex with you, so don’t try it on,” he said, moving to the cabinet behind her.
She got to her
feet, incensed he’d turned her down, and a little worried too, because no doubt
Craven would be expecting her to put on a show for the hidden cameras, and in
all truth she wanted to give it to him—and to his audience, because if she did
a good job he might honour his word. She frowned, knowing damn well Craven’s
promise that she could keep Dante was empty, just a ploy to get her to do what
he wanted.
Her eyes
flicked up to the tiny camera hidden in the clock above Dante’s head as he
searched through a drawer. Her gaze shifted to the other ones hidden in the
light fixture, the framed drawing of Jimmy Hendrix overlooking the bed, an
alarm clock and a Māori wall sculpture with curved pieces of wood and metal,
the only thing that Dante was proud of making in high school.
Dante pulled
out some underwear, then jumped as Kara ran her fingernails up his back. She
knew she was pushing him too fast, that she should take things slower, but she
was never one to wait for what she wanted, patience definitely not one of her
virtues, if indeed she had any virtues.
He turned
around, still looking angry, although he’d told her a long time ago that he got
off on her being pushy and aggressive, like the first time she’d met him. Her pussy
clenched at the memory of the sex that had followed, the man so damn talented.
“Stop lookin’
at me like that,” he snapped, bringing her back to the present. “I told ja, I’m
not having sex with you.”
Kara looked up
at him, the top of her head reaching his chin. “I don’t want to just have sex
with you; I want you to fuck me raw.”
He shook his
head, the curl of his lip making him appear as though he was going to snarl.
“It ain’t gonna happen. You left me, and now you expect me to forget everything
you did, the way you walked out, all the insults you threw at me. Well, I don’t
forgive so easy. So stop bloody coming onto me, cos you don’t give a shit ‘bout
me, just want me to service you like a fucking prostitutka.”
“You’re wrong;
I want you to service me as a lover.”
“I’m not your
lover, and now I’m not even Beth’s, no thanks to you.”
“You can’t blame
me for what happened. She jumped to conclusions.”
“Not hard to do
with you lying naked in my bed. I should’ve been the one apologising to her,
not the other way round.”
“No, you
should’ve given her a real reason to be angry.” Kara slipped his singlet over
her shoulders and dropped it to the floor, leaving herself completely naked.
“What’re ya
doin’?!” he said, his eyes going huge.
“Hopefully
you.” She grabbed his towel, whipping it away before he realised what she’d
done, then shoved him into the cabinet, making him fall back against it, his
body sticking out at an angle, his hardening cock putting a smile on her face.
Before he could right himself, she climbed on him, using the drawer he’d opened
as a step, then started kissing and biting his lips. He remained stiff
underneath her, like he was petrified of what she was doing, something she
wasn’t used to with him, because he never had self-control, her come-ons always
ending in him pushing her back hard, and fucking her even harder.
She grabbed his
cock, readying to penetrate herself with it, not willing to wait for a condom, and
if anything, she wanted him to get her pregnant, then there would be no way
Craven or Beth could separate them.
He tore his
head to the side and grabbed her wrist, his features pained as he growled, “Let
go.”
She gripped
tighter, using her nails just enough to let him know she’d hurt him if he took
away her prize. “Fuck me like I know you want to,” she growled back, then bit
his jaw, causing him to shiver.
“I don’t wanna
fuck you,” he said, his voice croaky, his dark eyes even more dilated, like he
was fighting with himself, both wanting and not wanting her.
“Liar.” She
loosened one finger and scratched his cock, making him wince, although she knew
he liked it. “And I won’t let your cock go unless you put it inside of me.” She
moved her nail up to his slit, penetrating it oh ever so slightly and causing
his eyes to widen. “I bet Beth doesn’t know how much you like being hurt, how
you prefer to be dominated, which is why I bet you dominate that witch, when
all you want is for her to do it back to you. Has she ever played with you like
I used to, tied you up, returned your vicious bites or used clamps on your
nipples, making you scream like a pussy? I love seeing you defenceless, your
eyes panicked as I use your body to pleasure myself. You like that, don’t you?
Being used, made to feel like you’re the most desired thing. And you are. I’ll stake
my life that no one else has done that for you.”
He glared at
her, again the conflict she felt within him making her pray he’d lose his
self-control. “Please, get offa me,” he finally said, looking
like it pained him, his voice so soft, as though he didn’t want her to hear it.
“When do you ever say please?”
“Just get the
fuck off!”
“Zašto?” she asked why in
their shared language. “Because I
know you want me, like I want you.”
“No, I want
Beth, so let go,” he said, squeezing her wrist so tight she thought he was
going to snap it. But regardless of the pain, she still held onto him, because
now it had turned into a battle, and she wasn’t one to submit so easily, unless
it was in bed, although she always did prefer to dominate, especially since
there was no greater high than getting a strong man to beg and writhe
underneath her.
She pressed her
fingernails into the flesh of his cock, returning pain for pain. “I’ll hurt you
more than you can ever hurt me.”
He brought his
other hand up to her neck, the pain in his eyes telling her he was close to
snapping. “Let go!”
She swallowed
against his grip, but definitely not from fear. “You know what you’re doing is
only turning me on more, and I can see it’s turning you on too.”
“I’ll snap your
fuckin’ neck before I fuck you.”
“Do it then?”
“You’re fuckin’
crazy.”
“Things will
get crazier than this, cos this is only foreplay, dragi.”
“If ya don’t
let me go, I’ll personally hand you back to that husband of yours,” he said,
his eyes more angry than horny now.
His cock grew
softer in her hand, making her swear. She gave it an extra squeeze, annoyed
with him, then climbed off, not caring about his yelp.
“You’re a
complete bitch,” he said massaging his cock, his expression pained. “I help you
out and all you do is gimme shit and a sore dick.”
“I would’ve
given you pleasure if you weren’t so infuriatingly stubborn,” she snapped.
“You’re
unbelievable.”
“The fucking would
have been unbelievable.”
Shaking his
head, he snatched up some underwear out of the drawer without turning his back
on her, his actions weary, like he expected her to jump him again. “Put on some
clothes,” he said, his voice harsh.
“Zašto?
You like the sight.”
“Jesus, you’re
arrogant.”
“I’m not
arrogant, it’s a fact, and if you weren’t so interested in what I offer, then
your cock wouldn’t have wept for me,” she said, licking her fingers.
He sneered at
her. “It leaks for anyone, even trannies if they suck well enough.”
She smiled
maliciously, wanting to goad him into grabbing and throwing her onto the bed.
“I love the way you talk, your mouth is dirtier than a prostitutka. Maybe I was right to call you one, plus you love
being used like a dirty whore.”
He thrust a
finger at her, his dark eyes dangerous. “Watch your fuckin’ mouth before I toss
you out.”
“If you didn’t
truly want me here then you would’ve done that already. So, Dante, pick me up
and toss me.”
“You talk more
like a prostitutka than I do.”
“You really don’t like that word, do you? Why
is that?”
“Cos I’m sick
of people treating me like one! You, Beth, as well as people I don’t even
know.” His face reddened. “What is it about me that makes everyone think I
can’t be faithful? Well, I can be, but no one stays long enough to gimme a
chance! Like you didn’t. Go on, you’re not shy, tell me what’s so bloody wrong
with me that people treat me like all I’m good for is this?” He smacked his
cock, making himself wince.
“You’re not the
measure of your cock, it’s the whole package people want,” she said, now
feeling guilty for pushing him too hard, the devastation in his eyes not what
she wanted or expected. She wanted to hurt him for his physical pleasure, not
to cause him emotional pain.
He threw his
underwear at her. “If they wanted the whole package then they would stay with
me, but they don’t, so don’t gimme that shit.”
She wondered
whether she’d caused his low opinion of himself. No, she couldn’t be the only
reason, because he’d said that others didn’t want to stay either, and if
anything, it was probably the porn stars behind it, or more specifically
Craven, the wolf having paid them to have one-night-stands with Dante. She’d
spoken to a few of them, the women telling her that they would’ve loved to have
stayed with him, but they had been expressly forbidden, and if they had continued
to see Dante they would have gotten their faces carved up—like Candy had, the
woman used as an example.
Kara breathed
out, trying to think of anything but the truth to tell him, anything to make
him feel better. “You shouldn’t be so harsh on yourself,” she finally said.
“And the women who didn’t stay with you were probably married or had partners;
otherwise you would have them now, that is, if you wanted to.”
“You’re married,
so why don’t you piss off and leave me alone too.”
“I don’t want
my marriage, it’s toxic.”
“Like our
relationship wuz—and still is.”
“No it wasn’t—isn’t, you never hurt me.”
“I threatened
to snap your neck only a minute ago.”
“An empty
threat.”
“How would you
know? You know nuthin’ ’bout me.”
“I know more
than you think.”
“Bullshit, and
I’m sick of you standing there like that,” he waved a hand at her body, “so
fuckin’ confident that I would cheat on Beth.”
“Again, you
cannot cheat when you aren’t with the woman, and if you go back to her, she’ll
hurt you again.”
“You hurt me
more than she ever did.”
“I didn’t mean
to.”
“Yes, you did,
you walked out, and now you’re walking right back in, thinking that you can do
anything you want. Well, you can’t!”
“I’m only trying
to take back what I lost all those years ago, and don’t tell me you aren’t
turned-on, because I know you like
forceful women. I’m guessing that’s why you ended up with Beth. She does have
bite, like me.”
“She’s nuthin’
like you.”
“Which is probably
why you look so sexually frustrated. She’s not giving you what you need. Does
she know how you like to be forced to do things—”
“I didn’t want
half the shit you did to me! You were the one wanting that, not me, but you
never listened. I only did those things cos I wuz afraid to lose you, but no
matter what, you still went hot and cold on me, liking things one day then
yelling at me the next, confusing the shit outta me. You’re bloody more bipolar
than I am.”
“Don’t kid
yourself, Dante. You’re a deviant, you just won’t admit it.” His jaw clenched,
his eyes again flashing, but his silence told her what she’d said was true. She
smiled. “Can’t deny it, can you?”
“You warped
me.”
“You’re wrong, dragi¸ I just gave you what you wanted,
because I know you so well.”
“You do not.”
“Then tell me
that you don’t imitate our love life with your lovers, just with you causing
the pain rather than the women.”
He stared at
her, his expression stunned, like he didn’t understand how she knew, but she
knew alright, again, Craven’s whores giving her all the information she craved
about Dante.
“I know you
better than yourself, Dante,” she said. “And way more than this Beth can ever
know. Our minds think alike: Mi Smo Jedan—We
Are One.”
He shook his
head. “You ruined that, and I don’t know you at all, haven’t known you for the
past three years. Unlike Beth.”
“Beth is gone,”
she breathed out. “You dumped her.”
“All cos you
made it look like I’d cheated on her.”
“We’ve already
been over this. And what would she have said if she’d burst through the door a
few minutes ago? Your cock was in my hand while our naked bodies were pushed up
against each other.”
“I didn’t
reciprocate!”
“Your cock did.
It was hard for me—not Beth.”
“I didn’t stick
it in you.”
“You wanted to
though.”
“I didn’t!”
“Don’t lie.”
She walked towards him, making him move to the side fast. “There’s no use
denying what you want, and since you’re now a free man, you can do it without
guilt.” She brought her hands to her breasts, pushing them together. His focus
sharpened, the look on his face telling her he was thinking about pushing his
cock between them. She groaned just thinking about it, making him look up, his
expression now conflicted, like he didn’t know what he should do. And she was
aching to make the decision for him.
“Fuck me,” she
said.
He stared at
her for what seemed like ages as though he had a devil on one shoulder and an
angel on the other, both whispering into his ears, confusing him, making him go
between the two, then without a word, he turned to the wardrobe and pulled out
a pair of leather pants, tugging them on commando. “I’ll find someplace else to
stay,” he said.
She let go of
her breasts. “But this is your home, you shouldn’t have to leave.”
“I’m goin’ to
Beth’s.”
“You can’t, you
broke up with her.”
“Then I’ll
unbreak up with her, and apologise.”
“That’s not
even a word, and you can’t, that woman is horrible.”
“You don’t know
her, so you can’t comment.”
“What a load of
nonsense. I saw how horrible she was to you. You shouldn’t have to apologise,
she should.”
“She did, but I
wuz too mad to listen to her.”
“And rightfully
so, which means it’s better you’re rid of that witch.”
“No, it isn’t,
I love her, and don’t call her names.”
Kara grimaced.
“I hope you’re not like this with her normally, because I didn’t take you for a
pussy who rolled over so easily. You used to argue like crazy with me, even
when I whipped you—literally.”
“I still argue,
today proof, but in Beth’s case I wuz wrong, and you were a bitch when you did
that, I didn’t like the whipping at all.”
“That’s not
true—for both. One, you came when I whipped you, and two, I saw the whole
argument between you and Beth.” Kara lifted her chin. “That woman was damn nasty
to you and you didn’t deserve it.”
“She’s normally
nice,” he said, pulling on a black T-shirt.
Kara wanted to
rip it off him, but instead crossed her arms over her chest, incensed he was
defending the horrible woman after Beth had mistreated him—as well as herself.
She narrowed her eyes. “Beth didn’t look so nice when she was attacking me.
Twice in two days I’ve been attacked. So, do you think my husband is nice too,
because he attacked me like your girlfriend?” Ex girlfriend, and it was going to stay that way.
“No, and she
wuz upset. It’s not the same.”
“It is the same. And go speak to Tiana. Beth
upset her too, made her run into her bedroom crying.”
His face fell.
“What? Why?”
“Tiana told her
to leave, but she wouldn’t. Next thing I hear is a slapping sound, then Tiana
ran into her bedroom crying and Ash came out, telling Beth to leave. Beth is a
bully, like my husband, and you, like me, need to realise this before it gets
more people hurt.”
He rushed for
the door, heading for Ash and Tiana’s room. Kara quickly pulled on her dress, wondering
whether she’d gone too far this time, because she knew it was Tiana who’d done
the slapping. But she’d backed herself up, saying that she’d only heard the slap, so if it backfired, she
was untouchable. Plus, he would naturally think it was Beth, because Tiana was
a creampuff.
Dante knocked
on the door, calling out Tiana’s name, while Kara pulled on one of his shirts
over her skimpy dress. She rushed into the passage just as Ash poked his head
out of his bedroom.
“Not now,
Dante,” Ash said. “Tiana’s upset.”
“Shit, I’m so
sorry,” Dante replied. “I had no idea Beth wuz coming over so early. Please
lemme apologise to Tiana.”
“Don’t worry,
it’s not your fault, just go to the lounge, the twins will be here soon.”
Dante nodded,
then called out, “I’m sorry, T!”
Kara followed
him to the lounge, relieved she’d pulled that off. Dante slumped down on the
couch and ran a hand over his wet hair. She sat next to him and placed a hand
on his lap, frowning when he shifted over. Again,
she knew she needed to slow down, to control herself, but Dante always made her
feel like she was on fast forward, wanting to get to the good parts without
waiting.
Kara put her
hand between her legs, aching to put it between his. “Are you still going to
contact that woman after she accosted me and your brother’s girlfriend?”
He shook his
head. “No. She even slapped Ash last week.”
“That’s
horrible! Why’d she do that for?” Kara said, playing up her shock, although she
didn’t understand why he was getting upset over the woman slapping someone.
Kara had done a lot worse: Pushing women away from him, punching a couple, and
even flashing a knife once, which thankfully he hadn’t seen. And da, she’d also hit Dante, but then
again, spanking couldn’t be counted as violence. Hmmm, she’d liked doing that
to him, although he wasn’t so amused, but what did he expect? After all, it was
his own fault for allowing her to tie him up while he was lying on his stomach,
and she could’ve done so much worse. She refrained from smirking at the
thought, because he would have ripped the bedposts off and tossed her out on
her arse faster than she could say ‘strap-on’.
“It doesn’t
matter why she hit Ash or Tiana,” Dante said, snapping Kara out of her fantasy.
“It matters that she’s become violent since she’s been with me—like you did.”
Kara knew she
was violent well before she’d met him, and she would never apologise for that,
because the meek didn’t inherit the earth, they fucking perished. “I fight for
what I want,” she said, “always have had to. You try living through a war
without it affecting you. Does Beth have the same excuse?”
“Yes. Me. I bring out the worst in women.”
“I don’t think
so; you’ve just got bad taste in them.” She smiled at him. “Me included.”
He glanced
sideways at her, a slight smile pulling at the corner of his lips. God, she
could murder Craven for forcing her to leave him, had even considered it—seriously, but the devil had too many
minions protecting him, too much power. She was just a slingshot in comparison
to his nuclear bomb, but at least he’d given her a second chance now, and she
wasn’t going to allow anything to come between her and Dante this time.
“I don’t think
I have bad taste in chicks,” Dante said. “It’s the chicks who go with me that
have bad taste. You included.”
“That is true,
because I really do have atrocious taste in men.” She grinned at his raised
eyebrow. “But you’re the exception to the rule.”
He shook his
head, but still smiled, the fissure between them shrinking a little. A knock
came from the front door, shattering the moment. He got up and opened it,
saying the Māori greeting for hello.
“Kia ora,” a male and female voice
replied back, the man’s one deep and sexy as hell. She watched with curiosity,
wondering who it was, then her eyes widened as a tall man, or more precisely a
boy, stepped inside, someone who had changed dramatically over the past three
years. No, Sledge wasn’t a boy anymore, because Dante’s younger brother looked
every bit a man, muscular and hard, his appearance defying his eighteen years.
Kara got to her
feet. “You’ve grown huge, Tyson. What are you on? Steroids?”
Dante’s brother’s
harsh gaze fell on her. “You know everyone calls me Sledge. And why you here?”
Kara could tell
by the distasteful curl of his lip that he wanted to add bitch to the end of his question. “I’m staying for a bit,” she
answered him. “And I like your birth name much better than that silly
nickname.”
“It’s not a
silly nickname,” he snapped. “And what happened to your face?”
Kara touched
her black-eye. “My husband got a bit fist happy, which is why I’m staying with
your brothers.”
Sledge’s twin
sister squeezed past him. Juliet was a smaller version of Sledge, just not
attractive, because no female could pull off that face. Kara always felt like
Juliet had gotten short-changed in the looks’ department. On Sledge the rough
angles of his face came across as hot, on Juliet... Poor girl, she was never
going to get a boyfriend looking like that, plastic surgery her only hope.
Kara shifted
down the couch as the twins went to take a seat, both of them ignoring her,
Juliet not even saying hello, but that was to be expected, considering Juliet
hated her for... How did the English say it? ...putting her foot in her mouth. Da, that was what Kara had done when
she’d first met Dante’s sister. Dante hadn’t introduced them, so Kara had asked
him who the ružna djevojka was, not
realising that Juliet knew it meant ugly
girl. But Juliet was an ugly
girl, so it wasn’t intended as an insult, just a description, because Juliet
had been standing next to Tiana at the time, and Kara had referred to Ash’s
woman as the pretty girl.
Dante took off
down the passage, then came back with Ash, both of them looking like someone
had died. Kara moved to another seat as Ash indicated for her to shift. He sat
next to Juliet and put an arm around his sister’s shoulders, then started
talking, something that went along the lines of... She knew it! His words finally confirmed what Kara had always
thought: That Sledge and Juliet were
adopted. They looked too much like Hunter, their supposed cousin, for them
to not have come from his seed.
Ash continued
talking to the twins, “I’m sorry, we should’ve told you sooner, but Hunter
didn’t want you to know.”
Sledge spoke up
first, his face shocked. “Is that why we look like him and not you?”
Kara rolled her
eyes. God, Sledge had always been dumb. Looks like only his appearance had
changed, not his brain matter.
Ash answered
Sledge’s question. “Yes. Hunter wuz sixteen when you were born, your mother the
same age. She died after childbirth, which caused Hunter to go off the rails.
Mum and Father had to admit him into the psyche ward, cos he wuz a high risk
for committing suicide, and when he came out, he still couldn’t handle having
children, so he made everyone promise to keep your adoption a secret.”
Sledge got to
his feet, looking like he wanted to rip someone apart. “You lied to us for
eighteen years!”
“We wanted to
tell you,” Ash said. “But Hunter wuz too erratic, I didn’t wanna risk it.”
“Then why the
fuck are ya spilling your guts now? He’s in the bloody looney bin.”
“Don’t call it
that.”
“Just answer my
fuckin’ question!”
“I want to do
right by you.”
Sledge shook
his head. “Then you should’ve told us sooner.”
“I know, and
I’m sorry, I wuz a weak bastard who did what other people wanted, but I’m not
letting that happen again. You and Juliet are too important to me,” he said,
pulling his crying sister/cousin closer. “And no matter what our genetics are,
you are still my brother, and Juliet is still my sister.”
“No we’re not!
We’re not even first cousins!” Sledge headed for the door, disappearing out of it.
Dante jumped up and ran after him, while Ash turned to Juliet. He smoothed a
hand down Juliet’s thick hair and started talking softly to her, reassuring the
girl he still loved her like a sister, and that she would always be his number
one sibling.
Kara ducked her
head and quickly wiped her eyes, Ash’s obvious love and concern for Juliet
making her feel guilty that she was witnessing something so personal—and also
jealous. She wished she could share loving moments with her own sister, but
knew that was impossible. Marina’s forced stay at the mental institute back in Croatia
was for life, because unlike Hunter, Marina wasn’t a danger to herself—just to
everyone else.
Kara stood up
and headed for Dante’s room. She closed the door and lay down on his bed,
wishing that she could become a part of this family too, to start afresh with
Dante. She touched her heart, running her hand over the material covering her
tattoo, the one she’d gotten the night she’d married Dante, something he’d been
too drunk to remember. She wished she could tell him the truth, and to show him
the documents she’d hidden—from both him and Craven. She looked up at the
camera fixed into the ceiling light and gave it the finger, then turned over
and closed her eyes, her dreams the only means of escape from Craven.
5
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Warning: Chapter 5 has a male on male sex scene.
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