“Yeah,” I frowned. “He ran underground fights for Petrov, and then one day he was just… killed. I was handed over to Xavier, end of story.”
“Wrong.” Phoenix gave me the closest look of compassion I’d probably ever see on his face. “You don’t knock off a small-time bookie, El. It’s not worth the wasted bullet. You knock off informants, rats, loose ends. He was one of the three, and I bet my entire stack of dirty black folders that he may have been all three, it’s the only reason you were given to Xavier and not killed right away. He liked the package and you were the spoils of war.”
Dante tensed next to me, like he just now realized the horrors that I’d seen at that man’s hand.
“So, what now?” I shrugged. “I just walk out of here and wait for someone to shoot me?” My chest cracked. Dante still hadn’t spoken up. He was staring at his hands like they had the answer.
When all I wanted him to do was react.
It was like the monster was hibernating and the man was incapable of speech.
“No.” He finally stood. “She’s not walking out of here, she’s not going anywhere.”
I held my breath.
“If there was a way out of this—” He glanced down at me, as tears filled my eyes. “I’d take it, not because I don’t want you every second of every day, but because I don’t know how to keep you safe from this world — and from me.”
“Sometimes,” Nixon nodded to Phoenix who rapped his knuckles across the door, it opened, Tex walked in with a Bible. “We just have to trust that God will be just in allowing us a few years of happiness with those we love before they’re taken by disease, accident, war—” He shrugged. “Some of us aren’t that lucky, some are. Which is why we cling to every damn moment we get—”
“And sleep with one eye open,” Tex said cheerfully.
Dante’s face was one of pure torment, like he blamed himself for me having to marry him when all I wanted to do was shout yes and then slap him for being so stupid.
How do you prove to a man that you trust them with every part of you? Even though you know he’ll most likely break every last piece of your heart without even knowing it? He wasn’t gentle, Dante. He wasn’t safe.
But I knew, he was good.
And in a world full of hate. Full of destruction.
Good was all I had.
I prayed love would follow.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Dante
I EXPECTED TO at least be given a warning.
I expected to spend the next few nights in her arms, convincing her, convincing myself that I was a good enough man for her when I knew in my soul — I wasn’t.
Nixon didn’t give either of us the luxury of getting used to the idea.
Would she hate me?
Would she resent me?
When all I ever wanted was to take care of her?
El suddenly stood, and faced me.
I expected tears, confusion, anger, a hell of a lot of anger.
Instead she unraveled the bandage still covering her arm and dropped it to the floor, then grabbed my hand and placed it over the almost healed wound.
“Cut me.”
“El, what are—”
“He marked me, put his initial on me, right here. When you spilled my blood, you missed.”
“What the hell do you mean when he spilled your blood?” Nixon roared.
“I may have left out some pertinent details from you,” I snapped. “Chase knew.”
“Oh well that makes everything better,” Tex said sarcastically.
“Please,” El pleaded, her eyes filled with tears. “Take your knife, cover the X, make it go away, give me a new scar—” She swayed toward me. “Give me you.”
“You don’t have to do this, El. We can get you a new tattoo.”
“I’m not getting into a new marriage with his name still on my skin!” She yelled. “It has to be you!”
The last time I cut her she thought I was trying to hurt her, to ask me to do it again, in front of others, to give her pain instead of pleasure right before we said our vows.
I didn’t want to be humbled.
It felt wrong to be honored.
And yet, I was.
I pulled out my knife.
Nixon moved toward me.
Tex stopped him, while Phoenix shook his head.
The X was small, in the middle of her forearm, it looked like he’d etched his initial in her skin with a knife, the cut was jagged, deep.
“He did this to you.” My hands shook.
“Until the scar stayed,” she revealed.
I didn’t warn her.
Tensing wasn’t going to help any of us.
Instead I ran the knife along the edge of the X letting it dig deep enough for her to start bleeding, and then I quickly curved the knife creating a half circle.
When I pulled back, the X looked like a bloody D.
And I wondered if that would be my legacy, if she would look down at her arm and hate me just like she hated him.
Blood rolled down her arm, slowly dripping onto the hardwood floor.
Tex stepped forward and placed the bible beneath our hands, but not before taking my knife and sliding it across my forearm and pushing our hands together, our blood mixed and slid drop by drop onto the Bible.
He wiped it off, then opened it and began to speak.
I couldn’t hear anything except for the own hammering of my heart as El watched me watch her.
She barely blinked.
Her lips trembled.
I just wanted to kiss her pain away — soak up all the fear.
And then it was over.
Five minutes.
That should have lasted a beautiful woman hours, days of celebration, picking out dresses and shoes, inviting friends and family — tasting cakes.
It was done.
I hung my head.
Chris was right.
She was marrying the wrong man.
But that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to spend a lifetime trying to be the right one. Even if that meant I kept my blood-filled hands to myself.
“You can kiss now,” Tex said.
We leaned in at the same time, she sighed against my mouth. It should have been a sad kiss.
A chaste kiss.
It wasn’t.
I couldn’t help myself.
Holding her — knowing she was mine, knowing that mouth would never touch anyone else’s, I groaned, dipping my hands into her messy hair, only to have someone jerk me away.
“Kind of how you got in this predicament, Dante.” Nixon cleared his throat.
“Got carried away.” I cleared my throat.
Tex winked over at me. “Happens to the best of us, trust me whenever I kiss Nixon’s sister I get a mini orgasm right near my d—”
Nixon punched him in the stomach.
Tex doubled over and coughed. “Worth it.”
The guys walked out one by one, Phoenix stayed.
Licking his lips, he looked between the two of us, then handed me an envelope. “I’m glad I was right.”
I frowned down at the envelope. “What’s this?”
“Take it.” He shrugged. “Think of it as a wedding present from the Nicolasi family — from your father. Go, have fun, I can buy you one day away from this Hell. And then, you’re back on Mil tracking, and you,” He nodded to El. “Are back at classes as if nothing ever happened.”
“Something big’s going down this weekend.” I sighed and handed the envelope back. “I don’t think it’s smart to miss one day of school. Andrei may suspect something.”