Because she was and will always be the better choice for this world.
9
DANTE
Iremove my helmet, sit on the bike, and look up to our apartment balcony. Romi stares out at the sky, the tip of her cigarette flaring in the cool night.
“Can’t sleep?” I call out to her. She looks down at me, as if inconvenienced by the reminder of my existence. Every time I return here, my curiosity grows.
This woman is bleeding out all over the place, like a wounded animal, and being the asshole that I am—I’m drawn to the scent.
“Something like that,” she calls back. I’m surprised she even bothered to respond. Borris sits beside her, his little head peeking through the railings, likely curious at the sound of my voice.
“Ever been on a bike before?” I ask, holding up my helmet. “Do you have a jacket?”
She brings the cigarette to her lips and stares at me contemplatively. “I like the look of yours.”
Of course she does. I can’t help but smile as I remove my jacket.
“I’ll be down in five,” she says, putting the cigarette out and picking up Borris before pressing a kiss on top of his head.
Lucky dog.
She appears a few minutes later in a long shirt that statesI’m not nice. I’m the calm before the storm, jeans, and those thick boots she likes to wear. The entire outfit suits her, really. She was made to sit on the back of my bike.
“I want the front,” she says.
“Abso—fucking—lutely not.” I offer the helmet to her again. “Have you even ridden a bike before?”
She rolls her eyes and grabs my helmet. “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me, asshole.”
I smirk as she throws her leg over the bike. “By the way, just because I’m on the back of your bike, doesn’t mean I’m going to have sex with you.”
“What if I’m taking you to the most romantic place on earth?”
She pretends to dry heave as she brings her arms around my midsection.
“I doubt you have a romantic bone in your body. And even if you do—waste it on some doe-eyed woman who matches your wallpaper.”
That vicious little tongue of hers is always trying to strike me down, but it just makes my cock twitch instead. Though I’m obsessed with her body, the denial of my pleasure and fucking her are equally alluring to her cruelty and charm.
I rev the bike. “You ready, sweetheart?”
She pushes the visor down, and I smile cockily.
“Hold on,” I warn as I hit the gas.
The sun won’t begin to rise for another three hours at least, so at this time, even in New York, there’s less traffic for me to weave in and out of, speeding through and cutting close corners, expecting her grip to tighten or for her, at the very least, to ask me to slow down.
She doesn’t.
I don’t think she has a death wish, but she’s walking through life like a wraith, as if she were as good as dead.
I’ve met her type before, and although I’ve never had any particular curiosity for her kind—I do when it comes to Romi.
I’d recently found a lake I think she might like. Looks like an easy spot to dump a body or two, but so far I haven’t had to get rid of any bodies myself—the joy of having a team that works at my beck and call. Granted, they work for me grudgingly, but I know over time they’ll become accustomed to my commands. If not, there will be consequences. It's as simple as that.
The wind pushes my hair back, the cold brushing against my skin, my glasses protect my eyes, especially as we go farther out of the city.
