“You boys talk too much,” Dante says, still with that shit-eating grin on his lips.
This is who he is. At his very core, he enjoys antagonizing others to their breaking point. And it’s as frightening as it is amazing, the way he draws everyone to him, precisely where he wants them.
The first man lunges with his fist raised, and Dante brings his knee up into his stomach, his movement fluid. Dante's behind the other guy within seconds, one half of the pool cue slamming into the back of the guy's head, dropping him to the floor. Another man comes at him with a pool stick, but Dante deflects it with ease and thrusts the end of his cue into the dude's face, blood spilling everywhere from his broken nose.
One of them pulls out a gun from inside his jacket, pointing it in Dante’s direction.
“Dante!” I scream, my blood turning cold and freezing entirely when I see the gleam of excitement dance in Dante’s eyes. And I realize the mask has completely slipped. It’s like he was waiting for someone to bring more than fists to this fight.
I take a step back the moment the energy shifts into something far more sinister. With lightning speed, Dante slams the shattered end of one of his sticks into the man's shoulder. The guy screams as he reels back, the gun dropping from his hand as he stumbles against the wall, curling his other hand around the protruding stick.
The rest of Drew's friends stop in their tracks, suddenly aware they’re dealing with more than what they bargained for, but it’s already too late. Dante places one hand on the pool table and flings himself over, kicking another guy in the chest so hard he slams into the wall beside his still-wailing friend.
Another one of them attempts to pick up the gun, but Dante kicks it toward me and out of their reach, grabbing one of the balls and beating him over the head with it, his hand quickly covered with blood. The guy goes down, knocked out cold.
“You’re fucking crazy!” Drew yells, and guilt worms through me. I put him in this position, but I never thought… No, I knew Dante was capable of this, but I never thought he’d come after me.
I pick up the gun and point it in Dante's direction, licking my lips. He pauses as he approaches Drew, still holding half a cue stick as his head slowly turns in my direction.
“Don’t tell me you’re protecting this dickhead,Cattivella. Because that would make me really mad.”
“Stop this,” I assert. It’s terrifying the way he was acutely aware the moment I picked up the gun. It’s like he sees everything. But it's not because he sees me as a threat. No, I’m certain it has more to do with the fact that I’m just a new toy who’s joined his fun little game.
Or maybe I was always that.
“Cattivella, technically, I haven’t killed anyone yet. I should get brownie points for that. After all, you were the one who set this all into motion.”
“I don’t want to die,” Drew pleads, quickly raising his hands in defense. One of his friends takes off, and I’m cursing the fact that it’s after hours, and we’re the only ones here. But does that make a difference? Dante most likely would wipe out an entire fucking bar full of people. And for what, to get tome?
Fuck, he’s more lethal than I would’ve ever imagined, and I’ve become some kind of carnal obsession.
“We can play a new game if you like,Cattivella,” Dante purrs.
“Stop calling me that!”
He’s crazy and cruel.
And I’m holding a gun in his direction. What the fuck is happening right now?
“I don’t want to play any more games, Dante. You need to stop this. You’re scaring me.”
His eyebrows dip slightly, and he seems confused momentarily. “You’re not scared.”
I’m startled by his response.
“You think you should be. But you’re not. I know when someone is scared of me,Cattivella, and you arenot.”
A liquid warmth floods to the bottom of my stomach, and I’m terrified and confused by my heated response. This doesn’t make any sense.
He’s a madman.
A killer.
A tormentor.
And a giant pain in my ass.
But he’s also beautiful in a way I always imagined the devil would be.
