Page 28 of The Prizes We Win
“What? You thought you could just sneak out of my bed and I wouldn’t notice? What if he had put his hands on you Josephine? What if the situation would have gotten out of control and no one would have been there to help you?” My frustration is mounting. My anger feels like it’s about to boil over. So much so that I feel tears sting at the back of my eyes. Tightening my grip I pull her a fraction of an inch closer. “He’s hurt you before, he’d do it again!”
“Sebastian…” she warns, and I know it’s my final one.
“I mean, goddamnit, Joe!”
I see the moment she snaps all over her face. I see it before anything even happens. And then her face is gone from my view when she grabs my arm, spins me around, and knocks me flat on the table. She wraps one delicate hand around my neck and places her other forearm in the center of my chest. Using all of her weight to keep me pinned in place. Leaning down, she brings her face closer to mine. “When I tell you to let go of me, I fucking mean it, Sebastian.”
Everything in my vision goes red.
What if he had hurt her again?
What if something had happened to her when I was supposed to be taking care of her?
What if I lose her?
I can’t. She needs to understand.
Despite her hand still being around my throat, I grab her by the waist. Because no matter how much she tries, she can’t keep me pinned to the table using her body weight alone. In one quick motion, I sit up forcefully, lift her in the air, and spin us around so she’s now lying flat against the table. She thrashes beneath me, but not hard enough where I know she’s truly afraid. I would never, and I meanneverdo anything to make her afraid of me. But she is livid.
“Josephine…” I grab both her hands and pin them to the table on either side of her head. The rest of her body doesn’t stop moving. Climbing up on the table, I straddle her waist, trying to get her to stay still long enough to hear me. I lean forward so my face is directly above hers. “You weren’t supposed to go in there by yourself.” My voice is still laced with anger. “You promised me.”
“I know I did. But I just thought—”
“You didn’t think,” I shout in her face. The tears are no longer stinging the backs of my eyes. Instead, they’re pooling in the corners, clouding my vision of her beautiful face.
She finally stops moving. “Watch how you speak to me, Sebastian.”
I don’t care.
Sheneedsto understand.
“He could have fucking killed you!” I watch as a tear falls from my eye and land on her flushed cheek. And as she registers that I’m now crying, her entire demeanor softens in an instant.
“Sebastian…”
But just as I open my mouth to respond, a pair of hands grab my shirtless torso and throws me across the table. The chair on the end shatters as I crash into it and land amongst its pieces on the floor. I lay there for a split second, trying to make sense of what the fuck just happened when a fuzzy figure reaches down and grabs me again. This time he lifts me from the floor and slams me against the floor-to-ceiling window looking out over the city.
“Dante!” Josephine hisses, likely trying to be quiet enough to not wake Luca and Enzo and cause an even bigger scene.
Dante pins his giant arm across my neck as my vision clears, and I’m finally able to make out his face. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he growls at me.
“D, get the fuck off of me,” I warn as best as I can despite not being able to breathe.
He leans in so his face is almost touching mine. “Make. Me.”
“Tell him.” My eyes don’t stray from Dante’s but I’m talking to Joe. “Tell him what you were doing, Joe.” Dante and I remain frozen. Our chests rising and falling in perfect rhythm. Each breath laced with anger. Joe doesn’t say anything. “Tell him where you were.”
Dante breaks eye contact with me and looks over his shoulder. His arm remains tight against my throat. “Where were you, Joe?”
She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. And when she opens them, she says, “I was downstairs talking to my dad. Alone.”
Dante pauses for a moment before he asks her while pointing at me with his other hand, “Did he hurt you?”
Joe and I answer at the same time.
“I would never.”
“No. He would never.”
