Page 43 of Ruthless Bonds

“Right?” She held up her phone right as a big bubble burst in the pasta sauce, splashing all over her white shirt. Our mouths hung open, and I couldn’t stop the laughter no matter how hard I tried. “My favorite shirt.” She pouted.

“Why would you wear a white shirt when you’re making pasta?” I chuckled and motioned for her to take it off. “Give it to me. I’ll throw it in the washer.”

Dinner was amazing. I wasn’t kidding when I said she should become a chef. I didn’t know where she got her cooking skills from, because it wasn’t from me. Not that I was terrible at it—I could make a mean peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

I hadn’t told Dove yet, but earlier I’d looked up several therapists and psychiatrists who specialized in anxiety disorders. I’d found a woman in the city who was highly rated and charged three hundred dollars a session. She didn’t have any openings for two months, but I’d booked the appointment anyway. I just hoped I could convince Dove to go.

I cleaned up the dishes while Dove looked for a movie for us to watch. Of course, the second I settled on the couch, I realized I’d left the wine in the trunk.

“I’m gonna run to the car and grab the wine. Want me to grab your shirt from the dryer?” I slid my boots on and grabbed my knife from the counter, tucked it inside. Call me paranoid, but I wasn’t going out after dark without my knife. The junkies who roamed around out there were out of control. If they thought they could take something from you, they would try. But I wouldn’t ever be an easy target.

She shook her head, typing on her phone. “I’ll grab it. You’re going the other way.”

I pulled on my black hoodie and marched down the stairs. Sure enough, a group of guys were hanging out in the parking lot, Zeke being one of them. He waved and gave me a smile, so luckily, none of the others bothered me. He was a good guy. At least I thought so. We never talked about how he’d ended up on the street. In this day and age, it could happen to anyone at any time. Lose your job, have no savings, no friends or family? You’re fucked. I was just grateful that I had Solene and the others. We all looked out for each other.

I grabbed the wine and jogged back to my building and up the stairs. Dove wasn’t there, so I assumed she’d gone to get her shirt. I placed the bottles on the counter and stripped off my hoodie. Just when I was about to pull off my boots, there was a knock at the door.

That was weird. Had I locked Dove out?

“Sorry, I thought—” The words died on my lips as I threw the door open and faced Dario. I scrunched up my nose and glared at him. “What are you doing here?”

He leaned against the doorway, running his fingers through his hair. His cologne was suffocating, and I had to stop myself from gagging. “I think it’s time we had our drink, don’t you?”

Obviously, he was mentally unwell, and I had no patience to deal with him tonight. “Dario, fuck off. I’ve told you a million times I’m not interested. Now leave.” I went to push the door shut, but he held his arm up, keeping the door open.

“You think you’re just gonna move out without giving me what you owe?”

“What are you talking about? I paid the rent. I got a receipt. Seriously, this isn’t funny. You need to leave.”My heart raced wildly as he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

“I don’t think so. You’ve been teasing me for a long time, and I’m ready to play, baby.” He looked around the living room, presumably looking for Dove.

Fuck, Dove would be back any second.

“Now about that drink.” He shut the door and walked over to me.

A wave of fury crashed over me as he stood in my personal space. “I’m warning you, Dario.”

“Ohh, I like it when you’re feisty. Why don’t we skip the drink and get right to the fun stuff.” He laid his hands on my shoulders and tried to drag me toward him.

“You’re repulsive. Get off me.” I lashed out with my hands, scratching him across his face. I shoved him and tried to make a break for the door, but he grabbed onto my hair and yanked me back toward him.

“You little bitch. You’re going to pay for that.” Blood was dripping down his cheek, and as he leaned down as if to kiss me, I spit directly in his face.

“Fuck,” he snapped, using his forearm to wipe his face. “Dirty bitch.”

He slapped me so hard, my head snapped to the side and I tumbled to the ground. I felt like a rag doll compared to him. My stomach churned as I realized he was a lot stronger than he looked. I landed on my hands and knees, trying to catch my breath.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, then when that bitch sister of yours gets here, I’ll do her too. And you can’t do shit, you know that? I’m fucking connected, baby. My family runs this town.”

He towered over me, his scuffed-up shoes justunder my bowed head. The sound of his belt buckle coming undone had me leaning back into a kneeling position, gasping.

A twisted smirk played on his lips as he stared down at me. “That’s it, baby, get ready to go to paradise.”

As he tugged his zipper down, I reached back toward my boot and grabbed my knife.

“I don’t think so, pig.” I pressed the release button on the handle and drove the blade upwards into his gut.

He roared with fury as he fell to his knees, knocking me over in the process. I tried to crawl away, but he grabbed onto my legs and tugged me back toward him. He was yelling all types of crazy things now, and I knew that if I didn’t get free he was going to kill me.

---