Page 39 of Paper Thin Love

“Makes sense. She’s quiet but sees everything. She’s not like the others here,” Dante adds.

I feel my neck stiffen. I don’t like her name on another man’s lips.

Get over it. She means nothing to you.

“You don’t need her now,” Cillian firmly states.

I shrug, not wanting to tell them that’s a lie. I do need Mila. I trust Dante and Cillian, not as much as Titan and Damian, but I don’t have options here. I need Mila for reasons I’d never admit to either of them, both physical and mental.

No, I wasn’t planning on fucking the ballerina, but I do need her to help me physically, like changing my clothes. I have no idea how I’m going to get dressed or get pants over this huge ass cast.

That makes me feel incredibly weak.

Vulnerable. I can’t show Dante or Cillian that side until I trust them fully.

Then there’s that mental side that Mila feeds. How can I turn that taste down now that I have it on my tongue?

I can’t. So I won’t.

There’s a certain high I get watching her rebel and break free from her shell.

“Leave her alone, Dash,” Cillian says after my long moment of silence.

“No.” My eyes narrow. Is he into her?

“She’s not one of them. Don’t taint her,” Cillian comments.

“He,” Dante says, interrupting with a shake of his head.“He’s like Damian. Cillian is just trying to protect people. Women in general.”

Aww, I forgot about Cillian’s past. His need to protect Mila isn’t because of who she is, but rather what she is. A female.

“I would take your advice, Cillian, if Mila hadn’t already been corrupted. You don’t see her like I do.” I hold his stare, a challenge that might dissolve my newly found allies quickly.

Dante watches before he speaks.“We have bigger issues than Dash’s crush, Cillian.”

“She’s not a crush,” I retort hastily. She isn’t. I agree, though we got off-topic.

“The Cleansing,” I state.

Dante nods. Cillian, the huge oaf, still studies me like he is a judge, jury, and executioner.

“It’s a fighting competition that happens every weekend. Sometimes, the fights are standard, one-on-one; other times, it’s more theatrical. Hunts, tactical games.”

“Mila said you both rarely participate.”

They nod.“We had a feeling it was a test for us, being here, that is, so when we first participated, we made sure no one would question us again,” Dante says.

He cracks his neck.“Death has a way of silencing others, especially if you make it into a show. Screams have echoes that linger long in the mind. That’s why people fear us. We didn’t just participate; we made it painful, and then we turned on the bystanders, those who chanted for our opponent. We didn’t stop until we were forced to. Of course, the rules have been altered now. You can only fight your competition.”

I feel the weight of the cast on my leg. Mila said I was safe until I was healed.“Are you forced to compete or did you sign up?”

“Forced?” Cillian shrugs.“More like threatened by our family. Dante’s mom threatened his brother.”

There’s a coldness, a sterile tone in Cillian’s voice as his eyes grow distant.“Who did they threaten for you?” I question.

“Cillian didn’t get a warning, just a body sent to him,” Dante answers for him.

Cillian stands suddenly, the cafeteria quiets.“I’m getting more food,” he grumbles as he storms off the dais.

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