Page 27 of When Sinners Fall
My clothes and panties are left in plain sight, and I slide between his dark blue sheets. They’re cool and soothing and smell of that dark smokiness that I’m starting to associate with him.
I wait, but he doesn’t appear at the door, and in my mind, he’s back to being the quiet boy I once knew, and it only stokes my questions and my craving for him all the more.
My mind re-runs our conversation, and I drift to a time when Dante was my best friend. He hands me the bird and the picture in my mind flashes with the sensation of him pressed against my body.
Finally, I drift further into dream world, with the Dante I now know, and fall asleep.
~
He’s not in the bedroom when I wake, and part of me wonders if last night was all a dream.
I slip back into yesterday’s clothes, which I grimace at, and then crack open the door.
Last night wasn’t what I expected, and I’m a little confused that he didn’t join me at all last night. Confused and disappointed.
He’s in the main room, a coffee in hand.
“Can I have one of those?” I ask.
He doesn’t say a word but gets up and heads to the kitchen. I follow, relieved that there will be caffeine in my system - it might help the rest of the conversation. But conversation doesn’t come. It’s as if he’s waiting on an answer, and until then, there’s nothing between us.
Well, fine.
With barely another word spoken between us, he drives me home. It’s like all the tension and potential of last night has vanished into a puff of smoke.
I dig my sunglasses from my bag as I sit and watch the early Saturday morning sun flood the San Antonio skies. With the benefit of a new morning, questions about what he asked of me swarm in my head, and the lack of sleep doesn’t help.
Dante pulls up outside my house and leaves the car idling.
“Did you want to come in for coffee?” I ask.
“No.”
“Okay then. When will I see you again?”
“That depends on when you decide.” He hands me a folded origami bird, and I take the hint and get out of the car to watch him drive off.
Feeling overwhelmed and confused, I end up standing there fiddling with the bird in my hand until it folds open. This time his number is scribbled inside.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
DRAGON
Aweek’s gone by since I dropped her off, and the dismissal from her, along with the look of this weak-ass punk under me, is making me sneer. Both my hands pull him back up, shifting his body against the wall. He grunts and tries fighting with the little he’s got left, so I send my knee to his groin to finish this talk. He buckles the second I let him fall and writhes around, hands covering his dick and tears in his eyes.
I swipe a hand over my face, taking the sweat off my skin, and glance at the other two standing behind me. At least they’ve worked out not to interfere. Maybe they are his sidekicks, but they’re obviously not fucking stupid when it comes to me.
Pouring a drink from the bottle on the table, I let the flow of whisky bring me back to the here and now. It glugs and ripples as it pours. One of the constants in my life since I was a kid, really. Whisky. Neat. No ice to water it down.
The time gives me a chance to cool myself off. This one isn’t for killing. I’m just here to threaten and remind. He thought he could bring drugs into the area without checking in with us first. We don’t do that poison, but we do support the guys that do in some ways. We keep the peace on that front with the cartels, making sure the supply is clean and solid.
Eventually, the dick starts quietening down. He even tries pulling himself up the wall. I kick his legs out from under him immediately and keep drinking my drink. My phone rings while I’m still watching his eyes - unknown number. So I pull it out and answer without speaking.
“Dante?” A smile broadens my face at the sound of her voice, throat swallowing my drink. “Are you there?”
“Yeah.”
“Can you talk?”
