Page 35 of Paper Thin Love

He looks down at me, his gaze intense.“Come on, we’ve lingered too long. Predators don’t hide; they ambush. Let’s claim our table.”

We begin to walk to the forbidden table. My legs shake so badly that I think I need his crutch more than he does. Luckily for us, Dante and Cillian haven’t arrived yet.

Maybe I can talk some sense into him.

“Dash,” I mutter.

He doesn’t reply. He walks with his head held high like a victor, taking the spoils of war.

Maybe he wants to die?

Chapter 13

Mila

It doesn’t take long for Dante and Cillian to walk into the cafeteria. Everything stops. It’s the second time it’s happened. Utter silence. The other time was moments ago when Dash pulled out a chair at this table and sat down. Thankfully, he didn’t choose either of the seats Dante or Cillian sat in.

I’ve never been so uncomfortable in my life. I know Dante and Cillian are glaring at my back. The noise starts to turn into whispers, and I dare a glance over my shoulder. If Cillian aspires to rival Hulk, he’s on the right track. Is it possible to make eighteen-year-olds that size?

Sweet Jesus, help us!

My eyes track up along his towering six-foot-four frame. His muscles practically need a table of their own.

Cillian is part of the Irish mafia, or as they like to refer to it, Collins Inc. It’s a mixture of old-world illegal businesses and new-world monopolies.

Once you get over the shock of Cillian, there’s Dante, who is a different breed. His seductive accent that melts hearts is Italian. Tall, tan, and dark, thick hair. Enormous thick cock. It’s what the rumors claim, not my filthy mind. I heard he’s unbelievable in bed, too.

Just because Cillian and Dante are feared doesn’t mean they don’t get girls. They usually don’t hook up with girls from school, but rather ones who don’t attend here. But they are so good in bed, the rumors have reached the girls here who are desperate to be their next fuck.

Dante turns eighteen soon, but you’d never know he wasn’t in his twenties. He has an air about him that people just don’t possess nowadays. Like a philosopher who sits back and listens, not to social media because that’s just fake, he observes people and sees the truth behind their false profiles.

It’s a rare but dangerous trait. Dante watches your every thought first take root deep inside your mind. He’s like a gardener of your mentality; he can cultivate your thoughts or pluck them from your head like an unwanted weed.

Dante knows everything, and I’m sure before he stepped into the cafeteria, he knew what Dash did.

I just hope he knows I was forced to comply.

I turn back to Dash, who is nonchalantly eating his food.“Why do you think they are getting food first?” I nervously ask.

Dash pops a bite between his thick lips and chews slowly.

How the hell is he so relaxed?

“I’d assume because it’s lunchtime, and they are hungry.” He snidely remarks.

I exhale, feeling like I’m running on a treadmill.

“Calm down, Mila. Eat some pizza.”

“Eat?” I pant.

“Yeah. Pick up that pizza. Now.”

I lick my lips.“I can’t eat. I’m too nervous.”

“Stop fighting me and eat. It will calm your nerves.”

Maybe he’s right. I should have a last meal before I die. I grab my fork and stab it into my salad.

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