Dex took his time getting to his feet, his movement was steady and level but there was something off about him.
"Where are you going?" I asked, scanning his face. That look in his eyes wasn't right. It was savage and unruly, and it made my heart clench even harder.
"I'm gonna go take care of this," he said, eyes flashing up to the ceiling.
Oh crap. Panic nudged at me. Worry over what in the world this man was going to do if he left. In that split second, I couldn't have cared any less about what happened back at the parlor. Not if Dex was going to go do something stupid. "Charlie."
"Babe," he growled. "I needyouto feel better. Sit down."
I reached out and grabbed his hand, threading my fingers through his in a tight squeeze. "Don't do anything." I tugged on his hand. "It's fine. I'm fine. Really. I'll figure something out so that they can't find me."
"You're not goin' anywhere." It was stated. Demanded. His Adam's apple bobbed with hard swallows, his muscles tightened and loosened twice.
"Dex, please," I begged him. "Please. If you get in trouble with the cops again..." A sob was lodged deep in my chest. "Don't go." My heart was going to shatter. It was getting julienned by what-ifs.
He ground his teeth together, a vein in his neck bulging. “Don’t ask me to do nothin’, Ritz.” His neck tipped up in barely controlled anger. “You want me to sit back and let them get away with this shit?”
“Dex—”
“Look what they did to you!” he snapped. His eyes flashed bright. “They hurt you. They put their hands on you. I can’t sit here and look at you with a clear conscience. I should’ve never let this happen.”
Oh my God. My heart did this dumb pitter-patter-clench thing in reaction to his words, to his conviction, his loyalty...everything. I really was in love with this man. It was horrifying and amazing at the same time. I squeezed my fingers around his. “This wasn’t your fault, Dex. “
He scrunched his eyes together, blowing out a breath that made his lips flutter. Ticking his neck from side to side, he rolled his shoulders. “You’re my responsibility. You’re mine. And I won’t stay here like some punk. I think I’d do anythin’ for you, believe me. But I won’t do this.” He pressed his lips to my forehead, his breath hot. “I gotta do this.”
I could have let him go. I could have just sat back and let him seek vengeance on my behalf, but I wouldn’t. Not that day, not the next or any month or year after that. Because the situation wasn’t worth the possibility of losing him, and I wasn’t above playing dirty. Saying what I needed to. Doing what I needed to.
"Please. Don't leave me, too," I whispered.
That statement must have hit home in his thick, stubborn skull. He blinked those brilliant blue eyes repeatedly before finally nodding slowly, as if it pained him. He lifted a hand to rest onmy bad arm, pressed his lips to my forehead and let out a shuddered breath. It was a low move tosay those words to him but I didn’t care when he finally spoke."Lemme get you some Advil.”
I looked up at him as I sat down. Dex's eyes were fierce on Wheels's, his mouth curled cruelly. That fierce tension pumping through his veins returned with every second he communicated wordlessly with Wheels before he retreated. It wasn’t until he had turned to walk out of the room that that static he seemed to radiate expanded, tripled and quadrupled.
The next thing any of us knew, he’d grabbed one of the stools at the bar and thrown it across the room, where it met a loud, messy death with the wall. Dex roared. He friggin’ roared this guttural, primal noise that could have caused earthquakes. Dex tipped his face up, hands clenched at his sides. "Goddamn it!" he yelled, raking his hands through his hair.
Holy crap.
He grabbed another stool by the legs and launched it in the same direction. “Fuck!” exploded from his lungs.
With one final burst of noise, he disappeared through the door. Just like that.
And for some not so strange reason, I trusted him enough to not assume he’d lied to me.
"That went better than I expected," Slim sighed.
I pressed the ice pack to my face again and reached out with my free hand to grab his fingers. "I'm sorry about all of this."
I was sorry. But more than anything, in that moment, I was mainly really pissed off.
What in the hell was wrong with my dad? What kind of a selfish asshole would put other people at risk for his mess? And why in the universe would I have to be related to him? I knew it was unfair and maybe even a little mean but what he was doing eclipsed any of my thoughts. There was no way he didn't know what the friggin' Russians or Romanians or Croatians were capable of. This gang and mafia crap was on a level reserved for the books I read and movies I watched.
I was pissed. And now that even more people that I cared about had gotten involved, this felt all the more like my own personal battle. My own mess to fix. Obviously there was no way in hell those jerks would get their money the next day but if I left, nothing would happen, right?
It was a long shot but it was the only hope I had.
Slim tugged at my hand, squeezing the fingers he held. "It's not your fault."
"It is."Itold him with a sigh. I felt terrible.
