Page 22 of Tainted Love

I bite down. He has a point there.

“I’m all right, Dad,” I say.

“Did he hurt you? Because if he did, so help me—”

“No. He didn’t hurt me. We had a decent time.”

His nose curls. “A decent time?”

“Dad.” I hold up a hand. “Please.”

“Fine…” He huffs, his eyes dropping once to the envelope. “Take the day off. I’ll let Cynthia know you won’t be coming in.”

“I’ll be there. I don’t want to take a day off.”

“You’re sure you’re all right?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t look all right.”

I sigh. “Yeah, well, you don’t look too good yourself, old man. How about you spend the night with the mobster next time if you’re so damn concerned.”

“I’m—” His voice drops. “I’m sorry, Lucy.”

I look at the envelope. “I hope it was worth it for you.”

He says nothing more. He wants to, I can tell, but his face droops down to the floor instead. “I’ll see you later, then,” he mutters as he pulls the door open.

“Yeah.”

The door slams, nearly shaking my picture frames off the old walls. I suppose I shouldn’t be too hard on him, but we’ve never had the best rapport in the first place. Every conversation we’ve ever had has been about one of two things: his vices or the damn weather.

I lie down and stare at the ceiling as last night replays in my head.

Who the hell was that man?

Why the fuck do I even care?

I hug a pillow against my chest, relaxing into the couch a little bit more. It’s still early. I don’t have to be in until ten so I can get in a quick nap before then.

Dante.

What a dick.

He knew just what to do with it, too. He knew exactly what angle to hit and what speed to use to send me over the fucking edge. I’m a girl with experiences and I can safely say that this is the first time since the first time I’ve sat around feeling like a damn virgin afterward. And that mouth. I still feel the little blooms of pleasure breaking out on my skin everywhere he kissed me.

I think I’m going to miss that dick. Too bad it’s attached to a psychotic jackass.

Who the fuck leaves a girl stranded in his house with no explanation? Who the fuck lets his business associate shoo her out in the morning with a note to take home to daddy taped to the door? Who the fuck thinks “you taste like a good kill” counts as dirty talk?

Oh, well. It’s not like I ever have to see him again.

Chapter 7

Dante

I immediately check the mirror as I enter the front door. The envelope is gone. That means Lucy is, too.

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