Which left…
I moved slower, still recovering, but I was right behind them when they swung the door open, guns in hand.
“Dante,” I said, breathless all of a sudden.
He didn’t seem remotely fazed by the guns pointed at him, if anything he barely even noticed them.
“Riles,” he said, and in that one word there were a thousand memories. Dante had said my name so many times over the years in so many different circumstances. He’d been the first guy to steal my heart—as a best friend.
As my family.
“Let him in,” I said to Beck and Dylan, and they shot him one more long stare before both stepped back.
Dante leaned over to get through the doorway, and I wondered if he’d gotten even taller in prison. I didn’t remember him being sohuge.His head was freshly shaved, black hair less than an inch thick. He had new ink too, it was visible right across the top of his chest, shiny, red in places, with some scabs already showing.
It was my butterfly. The car gleaming and blue, with a dark-haired chick driving it … no, not a chick. Me. He’d marked me on his skin again. In the most prominent place that existed. The only more obvious skin would be his face, and I was grateful I hadn’t ended up there.
“Riles,” he said again, his voice breaking as his eyes locked with mine. “Please.”
My hands were shaking; I tucked them in at my sides to hide the tremor. From the corner of my eye I could see Beck—he looked fucking furious. But he didn’t block Dante as he took another step to me.
I could count on one hand the amount of times I’d seen Dante cry, and those very rare times were mostly when we were children. But there were tears in his eyes right now. He might have been all bad boy with his black clothing, tatts, and masculine features, but there was no hiding the depth of sadness in his green eyes.
He looked broken.
Finally I stepped forward, freeing my hands, and reaching out to take his. The hand he’d held out since he stepped in the door.
“Hey,” I rasped out before clearing my throat.
Dante squeezed his eyes closed, head dropping down as he held my hand like it was the only thing tethering him to this world. “Fuck,” he sobbed.
Just one sob, but I knew he was about to lose it. Something he would hate to do in front of Beck and Dylan.
I turned to them. “Will you give us a few minutes, please?”
Beck’s jaw tensed, and if I looked down, I knew his fists would be clenched. He examined my face, searching for …something.Finally, he gave a single nod, and my heart swelled at that small gift from Beck. His trust. It had been a fucking long hard road to get here, but this was another step forward in our relationship.
“We’ll be next door, baby,” he said, brushing a hand over my back as he walked out the front door. Dylan did the same thing, a silent gesture of support, and then he was gone too.
As the door closed with a thud, Dante’s arms came around me in one sweep of movement. He crushed me to him, and I managed not to cry out, even though most of my injuries were still painful. But if I cried, I would bring Beck back, and right now, I needed this moment with Dante.
We both fucking needed it.
“I deserve to die,” Dante said into my shoulder, his voice a husky mess of emotions. “You should take Beck’s gun and shoot me.”
My heart ached at those words. At the thought of Dante not being in my world. “I have my own gun,” I joked, trying to ease the heavy in the room.
Dante pulled back, still holding me up, examining my face with his red-rimmed eyes.
“I wouldn’t blame you,” he said simply. And I could tell he meant that.
Narrowing my eyes on him, I roughly shoved him, not moving him an inch. “Don’t ever fucking talk like that again. You screwed up big time, don’t get me wrong, but you are not allowed to die. Not. Ever.”
Dante’s lips twitched, and I cleared my throat and wiggled for him to let me down. I stepped back. The air was heavy, filled with an ass ton of emotions, and after the last few days, I wasn’t really able to stay afloat in all the heavy.
“So, did you hear I was kidnapped?”
Way to break the tension, Riley. For fuck’s sake.
