Page 42 of Stealing Iris

Startled, my body jerks. Lord, he thinks I’m here with Conny.

“Stand clear.” His voice booms through the door.

“No. Wait, I’m coming.” Hands shaking, I struggle with the lock for several seconds. Finally, I pull the door open to find Dante standing in the doorway, gun in hand. My brain amplifies the size of the weapon and I grow even clumsier. Without looking away from my face, he puts the gun into the back of his pants as my boneless fingers continue to fumble with the slide-lock on the screen door.

His gaze runs over me, as if he’s trying to make sure everything’s okay. As soon as he’s in the house, his arms come around me. Crushing me to him, he pushes me back into the kitchen, his lips crashing down on mine.

“Tell me you’re okay,” he whispers insistently, while his hands run down my arms then come to cup my cheeks.

“Yes, I-I’m fine,” I stammer. As fine as I can be after standing there, scared and confused over being pulled out of an exhausted sleep in the middle of the night.

Dante’s expression hardens. He stares past me, into the darkness. “Is Conrado here?”

“No.”

His gaze shoots back to me. “Where is he?” His anger comes in waves, dashing against me. But I don’t have the answer he wants. Olga gave up Dad’s apartment two months ago, so I have no clue where he goes any more.

“I don’t know.” What does he want with Conny anyway? My blood runs cold, and a shiver takes over my body as adrenaline rushes through me.

He cups my arm. “I’m sorry. I was jealous as hell.” He sucks in a breath. “And I wasn’t thinking straight.”

My apprehension and doubt crumble at his words. His arms come around me, holding me tight, as if he’ll lose me if he lets go. “Last time, I thought you didn’t want to leave Conrado. That you chose him over me.”

My eyes could have bulged out at his statement. “No, of course not.” The horror in my voice reflects off the back of my throat. “What made—”

“I understand that now.” He rubs my back, trying to soothe me. “I realize you think you can’t leave.” He draws in a deep breath. “But at the time, it hurt, and I didn’t deal with it well.” The moment hangs between us, with the silence saying more than words ever could. He pulls back then brings his face to mine. “I’m sorry I was such an ass. Please forgive me, baby.”

Relief washes through me, leaving me weak at the knees. “Yes.” A smile breaks through for the first time in days. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I didn’t mean to.” He cups my face and kisses me like he hasn’t seen me in forever.

“What’s he holding over you?”

My eyes go wide. How did he know?

“What did you do?”

This can’t be happening. If I had anything sitting in my stomach, I’d be retching at his feet now.

“Nothing,” I manage to say, past the gigantic lump in my throat. Unable to face him, I duck, hiding my face, though he wouldn’t be able to see my shame in the darkness.

Swinging around, he pulls the gun from the back of his waist and shoves me away. I look up in time to see a figure filling the doorway. Everything happens at once. I don’t even have time to scream before I hit the cabinet. I suck in a breath, but the air is so dense with moisture I nearly choke. Lightning flashes across Dante as he points his weapon at the intruder. His features could be chiseled from stone with all the angles in shadow.

“What the hell?” The screen door opens as he lowers his gun.

“I hung around.” Tino’s voice reaches me from around the door.

“You were right, man,” Dante admits in an apologetic tone. “I was stupid.”

“I know.” Stepping into the kitchen, he looks my way, though he can’t possibly see me in the dark. “You took care of mine when I couldn’t,” he says. Dante gives him a brief nod before they both turn to me.

Dante reaches out a hand to me. Weak, I pull away from the solid wood supporting me and drag myself over. “Sorry, baby, but we need to go. Now.” The rain’s coming even harder, covering the sound of a car going by until the driver hits the gas farther up the block. “Weneedto get you out of here.” He twines his fingers through mine.

“What do you mean?” I frown.

“Conrado’s coming for you, and I have no idea who he’s got with him.”

Icy threads stretch down my back, forcing out a gasp. They plan to finish what they started this afternoon.

“That might be them,” Dante warns, tightening his hold on my hand. Meanwhile, Tino straightens, turning on his heel as he pushes the door open. “No. Wait.” Dante curls a hand into a fist. “It may not be them.” He shakes his head and faces Tino. “I’d rather you be here to keep Iris safe.”

---