He’s finished listening, and I’ve been dismissed.All I can do is say, “Good night,” and head out with a drum beat still pounding in my skull and the taste of Sophia’s tearful kisses lingering on my lips.
I don’t see the now quiet, peaceful grounds around me as I walk the familiar path with the chirping of crickets filling the air.I wish I did.I wish the memories of that night would leave me alone instead of playing in my head like a movie I have no control over.Instead of my darkened, peaceful house, I see a smoking wreck.Twisted metal, glass littering the side of the road and sparkling in the light thrown off by my headlights, and the flames that start to lick their way along the sports car’s crumpled hood.
“Monica!”I don’t know how many times I shouted her name as I sprinted to the wreck from where I skidded to a stop.It was impossible, it couldn’t be true, it had to be a nightmare.We had only left the bar minutes ago.I could still hear her voice, the disgust dripping from it after I asked for one more chance.I only wanted her to listen.To hear how sorry I was for what I did the night she saw me for who I really was.All I wanted was the chance to win her back.
Instead, I found her in the passenger seat, unrecognizable thanks to the blood coating her beautiful face.She was already gone, lifeless.I reached out, but couldn’t bring myself to touch her.Not the way she was.I was afraid of what my fingertips would find under all that blood.It was painful enough to stare down at my dead future.My world broken, bloodied, and gone, snuffed out like the glowing tip of a match.
That was when I heard a strangled groan from the driver’s seat.
Enough for now.
I have to consciously force myself to leave those memories locked away.They don’t do me any good, and they won’t help Sophia.Whether I like it or not, sheismy responsibility.
My responsibility is asleep on the couch by the time I ease the front door open.She changed into a satin pajama shirt and matching shorts and curled up to watch a movie, but fell asleep waiting.I was going to suggest digging up something to eat, but not if it means ruining the peaceful atmosphere she seems to be in.
Instead, I turn off the television, then stand over her and watch her slow, even breathing.Sooty lashes rest against skin so creamy and soft, I’m aching to reach out and stroke her cheek.I have to settle for sliding my arms under her and lifting her off the sofa.She’s light, easy to tuck against my body before I start up the stairs.
“Dante?”Instead of freaking out or at least being startled, she rests her head against my shoulder with her face turned toward my neck.“Are you home now?”
I have to smile to myself at her sleepy question and the sensation of her breath against my skin.“I’m home now,” I whisper, pausing at the top of the stairs before making a left and taking her to my bed.I need to have her near me tonight.I need a reminder that what ismineis safe.“I’m with you.You have nothing to worry about.”
Because she ismine.
And never again will I let another man destroy what’smine.
14
SOPHIA
This is a weird dream.Nice, but weird.
Somebody is holding me from behind.
We’re lying down, and I’m the little spoon.
He is the very big spoon.
Muscles on muscles, he engulfs me, but I like it.It’s the safest I’ve felt in a long time.
Soft, warm breath on the back of my neck makes my eyes slowly open.That wastoo realto be a dream.
This isn’t my room.
It’s masculine, sleek.
And Dante’s.
Dante’s arm is around me, holding me in place against his granite chest, and his breath is on the back of my neck.
“Did I wake you up?Go back to sleep,” he mumbles in a thick, drowsy voice.“I should get moving, though.”
No way.I’m not going to wake up in this bed for the first time without an explanation.What happened last night?I remember sitting up on the couch, waiting for him.Worried as hell, wondering if I should call Dad until I reminded myself he probably wouldn’t answer.I’m not his problem anymore.
And then?I remember being held.Carried?I’ve never been any good at waking up right away, especially when I’m out cold.It takes me a little time.
He pulls back with a sigh like he’s ready to get out of bed, but I roll onto my back, touching his bulging shoulder to stop him.Jesus Christ, he’s not wearing a shirt.I slept next to this all night and didn’t have the first clue.Life is so unfair sometimes.“You brought me to bed with you.”
“Not much gets past you at this time of the morning, does it?”he asks with a smirk.
