Page 60 of Tainted Love

The front door opens and closes downstairs. His boots tap loudly along the old floorboards.

Dante Hart.

Fucking psychopath.

First, he kicks me out of his bed with zero explanation. Then, he strangles a man right in front of me. Then, he comes back, pulls me out of a burning building, and brings me out to the middle of fucking nowhere to a house he supposedly used to live in.

All because he needs me?

What the fuck am I even supposed to say to that?

He climbs the stairs. I see him reach the top down the hall and I pause as he drifts closer to the doorway. His eyes shift in his head, wandering around in search for something.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

Dante moves toward the dresser in the corner. “I’m looking for some clothes,” he says, pulling the top drawer open.

I push against the mattress to try and get a better look inside, but he slides it closed to move on to the next one down. “For who?”

“For you.”

He grabs something black and holds it up. A skirt. Long and wrinkled. I cringe as he tosses it over his shoulder to keep it.

“Unless you want to sit around in that leotard forever,” he adds.

“Is that how long you intend to keep me here?”

“It’s just an expression, Lucy.” He throws open the closet door. “You can leave once it’s safe for you to do so.”

“I’m not in any danger.”

“Yes, you are.”

“From who?”

“From you.”

I roll my eyes and look over his shoulder as he sifts through the various shirts hanging in the closet. “Whose clothes are these?” He pulls a hanger out, along with a horrendous white and gray striped blouse. “Ew. No…” I point around him. “The red one.”

He throws the blouse back in and slides the red one off the hanger. “They’re my grandmother’s,” he answers, walking toward the bed.

“Where is she?”

“Not here anymore.”

He tosses them down next to my feet, his face as blank as a canvas.

“Sorry,” I mutter.

His shoulders bounce and he wanders to the vanity in the corner. He sifts through the drawers until he finds a large pair of scissors inside.

“What are those for?” I ask.

Dante’s lips curl and he snaps the blades twice. “Well, I can’t exactly un-cuff you to get that leotard off, now can I?”

Anger returns to my cheeks. “I can dress myself, thank you.”

“It’s not like I haven’t seen it all before, Luce.” He steps forward and reaches for my left foot, drawing it closer to the edge of the bed. “Don’t move. You wouldn’t want to make me accidentally cut you.”

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