Page 141 of Devious Kingpin
I pulled my knees to my chest and studied him. The silence filled the yellow space and set my nerve endings on edge. His words resonated deep inside me. When I was with him, I felt at peace. He was home. Longing and belonging wrapped in my heart, my soul, and my life. So why did I not say anything?
“So, hungry?” he asked again and I nodded. It took three minutes for him to have a cart full of food rolled into the room, along with orange juice, cranberry juice, and apple juice.
When the waiter left, I couldn’t help but tease, “That drink assortment is for children. We should have gotten mimosas.”
“You won’t find me drinking mimosas,” he remarked dryly, making a plate. “Besides, you gave up alcohol. Remember?”
Unintentionally, he brought something up that now filled the air with tension, stretching the oxygen thin. But I couldn’t let it ruinus.
My brows furrowed. It was the first time that I truly thought about us as an item. All our secrets were out in the open. Most of our ghosts had been laid to rest.
He handed me a plate full of my favorite foods. Parfait. Eggs Benedict. Mixed fruit cup.
“You're going to eat with me too, right?” I didn’t want to eat alone.
“If you want me to.” I nodded and he made himself a plate. It was one thing I’d learned. Dante always had an appetite. The two of us started eating in a weirdly comfortable silence. It was still tense, but it was pleasant.
I peered under my lashes at him. He was uncharacteristically quiet, seeming lost in his thoughts.
“I read your letters,” I said softly.
Dante’s shoulders tensed and he stilled before he drew his eyes up to meet mine. Something lifted the darkness behind his gaze. Something volatile. Raw.
Oh.He was letting me see his vulnerability.
It was something I wasn’t accustomed to seeing on him. He always hid behind his smirk and layers upon layers of arrogance. Seeing this side of him put me on edge.
“So where do we go from here?” I asked, since he remained silent.
A sad smile curved his lips. “You tell me, Wildling.”
I swallowed, pain hollow in my chest. When I didn’t say anything, unable to find my voice, he asked, “Do you want to end this?”
A shudder rippled down my spine. An invisible blade lodged itself between my ribs and refused to budge.
“What if I said yes?” I croaked.
Dante’s usual mask slipped for a flicker of a second before it was back on, hiding even a hint of whatever emotion my answer created.
“Please, Wildling, give us a chance,” he said softly. His throat was flexing with a hard swallow. His eyes flickered with longing as they searched my face for something I wanted to give. I really did, but I couldn’t get past the fact that he drugged me.
Drugged me!
“I can’t,” I rasped, wrapping my arms around myself, chilled to the bone. My pulse roared through my veins. Pain slashed through my body. “Everything is so fucked up. I have more people to find and kill. And I’m just—”
Tired. Disheartened. Alone.
“I’ll help you.” My eyes found his, nothing but sincerity there. “You want to kill those motherfuckers? I’ll help you find every single one of those men and tear them to pieces.”
Staring at him, I felt like I’d lived a hundred lifetimes, and I hadn’t even lived a quarter of a century. Maybe Wynter was right. I kept too many things unsaid. And it wasn’t helping anyone, including myself.
“You stole my free will,” I rasped. “When you drugged me, you stoleme. You took my right to consent, to function, to defend myself. Just like those—” My voice cracked. The comparison didn’t feel right despite everything that had happened. Dante never forced himself physically. “I can forgive a lot, but drugging me… It’s hard for me to forgive it. I killed those boys who drugged me.”
And Dante killed Travis. For me. He made him suffer. He tortured him. For me.
“Do you want to kill me, Juliette?” The tone of his voice indicated he’d let me kill him if it meant my peace and well-being. Except, it wouldn’t bring me peace. It’d hurt just as much. No, scratch that. It’d hurt even more.
“No, I don’t want to kill you.” He became too important to me. I didn’t know when or how, but he found his way so deep inside my head and my soul, it’d be impossible to live without him. “There’s been too much killing.” I swallowed, the admission suffocating me. “I killed my best friend’s father,” I whispered.
