Page 32 of Dirty Behavior

Dante

My eyes were frozenon the road as I drove back to the house. Everything in my brain was a tumbling mess of pure rage.

All my muscles were throbbing, aching, burning with the need to just fucking hit something. I was so tempted to let myself keep going on Vince, just let my body fully release all that tension so I could regain my focus.

But I couldn't, he wasn't worth my time.

He has a choice, I gave him one choice.

It was Remo or me.

When Vince asked me if I was back to run shit, I was a little shocked. I hadn't actually had the time to think about taking over what my father left behind. Somewhere deep in my mind I was sure the idea had slipped through like a light static charge, but I must have just let it spark, fizzle, and die out before it could turn into anything.

It wouldn't be the first time I let my drive tunnel into one image, one idea, one thought.

My mind had been so focused on getting revenge, I wouldn't let anything else in. I wanted it all back, this was my home, my turf.

But he was right, this was also my city. I should be the one calling the shots, and I wasn't going to just stand by and watch it burn.

It was going to be like climbing a mountain, I was going to have to kick down doors and jump walls to get it all back.

And I was more then willing to do that. Pisani was a name, it was a brand, and I was the last one left to hold it high.

The tires kicked up dust and rocks as I flew into the driveway. Throwing the door open, my feet crashed through the dirt as I made my way up to the house.

My stomach was twisting, coiling into a knot. I was gone and I had left Ivy alone. If my guys were working for the enemy then there was no telling what Remo might know. This home had been kept a secret, but secrets didn't always stay buried.

Every single piece of me was terrified that something bad had happened to her. Call it a sixth sense, but I couldn't help but feel an urgency to get to my woman.

Plowing through the door, I let it fly open under my weight. “Ivy! Ivy!” Yelling up the stairs, I glanced quickly around the kitchen and living room. “Ivy!” Clutching the railing, I jumped the stairs as fast as I could.

Her head popped out from the bedroom door, eyes huge and full of worry.“What? Dante are you alright?What's wrong?”

Breathing heavily, I gripped her arms and tugged her into my chest. “Nothing, it's fine now.” My chest stung, heart palpitating in triple beats. “I just—” Rubbing her back, my tone deepened. “Nevermind, it's stupid.”

I didn't want to worry her, I didn't want her to ever feel like she wasn't safe.

Glancing over her shoulder into the bedroom, I noticed there were items that weren't there before. A bag of chips, opened and spilling out onto the bed, a magazine I didn't remember buying her from one of our short stops on the way here.

There was a tall can of iced tea sitting on the floor, and a plastic bag still full from the Quick Fill gas station a few miles into the city.

“What the fuck is that? How did you get this?” Pushing out from our embrace, I stalked over to the bed. “How the hell did you get this stuff?” Cocking my head, I plucked the handle of the bag with one finger.

Ivy held her hands out, stepping into the room. “Dante, you need to know something.”

Smacking my lips shut, I glared at her. “Did you leave?” Lunging forward, I held her arm tightly in my hand.

She looked like she was at a loss for words. Her lips buzzed in sound, eyes flashing in thought, but there was no volume, she couldn't speak. . . Or maybe she didn't want to.

Was she scared to tell me the truth?

Why?

Ivy knew I wouldn't hurt her, she knew there was no way I would ever lay a finger on her, no matter how pissed I was. So why wouldn't she just tell me how she got that shit?

“Answer me!” Yelling loudly, I yanked her into my chest. Hovering above her, I spoke strong and deep into her ear. “Tell me how you got this shit.”

Staring up at my face, her lower lip pouted. “You told me we were safe, you told me no one else new about this place.”

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