Page 138 of Devious Kingpin
Hate. Bitterness.Regret?
I didn’t know. All I knew was that it felt heavy. It made it hard to breathe. Did Ivy know? Or was she truly clueless about who her father really was?
I placed my forehead against the mirror, leaving red smudges on it, and let the coolness of it soothe. But it didn’t calm me, didn’t make me feel better.
There were too many revelations. Too many thoughts swirling in my head.
Wynter and Basilio left shortly after we got back. Wynter was frantic when she saw us, and it took everything Basilio had to calm her down. Dante refused to leave me alone. He was stubborn, but so was I. I just couldn’t bear anyone’s company right now.
All the death, killings, the torturing—none of it bothered me. The revenge was sweet. But killing Ivy’s father hit me all wrong. There was nothing sweet about it.
“Juliette.”
Dante’s voice came from behind me. I hadn’t even heard him enter the bathroom over the ringing I still felt in my ears from the gunshots.
“Yes.” My voice was distant. Resigned.
I didn’t bother moving, the fatigue heavy in my bones and in my soul.
“Want me to start the shower for you?”
“Sure.”
Truthfully, I wanted to crawl under the covers and fall into oblivion. A dreamless sleep. I wanted to forget. My thoughts were all over the place. The innocent girl I’d once been was now a killer. A sadistic killer.
God, I’m so tired. So fucking tired.
I wanted to be that little girl again who had no cares—no troubles—in the world and was thankful to a boy who saved her. A simple token of gratitude—a pink scrunchie.
He moved around the bathroom, his footsteps firm against the tile. The sound of plumbing and the rush of water. A shudder rolled down my spine. Cold and biting.
“Are you cold?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” I closed my eyes. I didn’t think there was anything to warm me up from this. The chill had seeped deep into my bones.
His hands came to my shoulders and I tensed, my spine stiffening. “It’s okay. I’m going to help you undress and then you can get in the shower.” Another shiver. “Nothing else,” he promised softly.
The backs of my eyes burned. Why did he have to be nice to me? It made my emotions bounce all over the place.
He carefully peeled my clothes off, piece by piece, his touch tender. My throat squeezed and so did my chest. Maybe all the killings, starting with Brandon Dole and ending with Ivy’s father, had finally caught up to me. Although I still didn’t feel an ounce of guilt over killing Brandon nor Sam. In fact, I felt no remorse over killing anyone. But Ivy’s father…
“Okay, it’s on the warmer side.” He pulled me away from the mirror and led me to the shower. “If it’s too hot, let me know and I can adjust it.”
I stepped under the spray and felt… nothing.
A heavy sigh filled the bathroom. It was Dante’s. He kicked off his shoes, then his ruined suit coat. Still fully clothed, he stepped into the shower and started washing me. First my hair. Then my body. His movements were methodical. His eyes were sharp on me, ensuring I wouldn’t lose my shit and fall into a full-blown panic attack.
But I didn’t. There was nothing left. I was just empty. Hollow.
Ten minutes later, I was clean. He dried me off and dressed me in pajamas like I was a child.
“Right leg,” he instructed. I did what he said, slipping my foot into the soft material. “Left leg.” I repeated the motion. “Hands up.”
I sighed and put them up so he could slide a shirt down my body. Then he reached for a glass of water and two little white pills.
When I sought out his gaze, he said, “Ibuprofen.”
I nodded, placing them on my tongue and downing the entire glass.
