Page 101 of Oblivion

The rant left us both shaking and equally breathless.

Thoroughly intimidated, I backed up on trembling legs. “You know what? Fine. I’ll get out of your fucking face. And you know what else? You’re a chauvinist, controlling pig, and I wish I’d never met you!”

Dante’s jaw clamped and his nostrils flared with wrath like I’dneverseen before.

Shoulders and arms primed and tensed. Fists balled at his sides. His entire body vibrated as if about to detonate, and I wasn’t sticking around to watch it goboom.

Without looking back, I hurried to my room and searched for something to wedge the door closed with. Tears burned in my eyes as I heard something smash downstairs. They cascaded down my cheeks in a torrent I couldn’t stop. We’d just ripped each other apart, torn old scars wide open, and there was absolutely no coming back from that.

I grabbed my two suitcases and collected my scattered belongings, deciding that the ones left in the bathroom could stay there. I was only exiting this room once, and when I did, I wasn’t coming back.

It took a good twenty minutes to get myself under control and for the tears to stop re-springing to life. I was in a total state of disarray: makeup cried off, eyes puffy and red-rimmed, and the end of my nose swollen from wiping it. Worst of all, my heart was battered and bruised.

Inhaling one final breath, I rolled open the bedroom door and hustled my suitcases onto the mezzanine balcony. I expected to see Dante glaring up at me. Expected to endure another fight on my way out of here, but the entire loft was eerily quiet.

He wasn’t in his room, or the bathroom, or in the living area—including outside.

With a heavy heart, I dragged my cases one by one down the stairs and rolled them to the elevator landing. I stooped to pluck my car keys from among the shattered shards of a glass vase, and I wasn’t surprised to find my shoes kicked from the center of the entryway. I was, however, surprised to find Dante’s gym sneakers missing.

I mashed my lips together to stop the welling emotion getting the better of me. This wasn’t how I envisioned us coming to an end. Although, in reality, there wasn’t—and never would be—anus.I was just a twenty-one-year-old seeing the world through rose-tinted glasses.

For the first time since my abduction, I found myself completely alone. Prickling unease ran down my back. The agitation got worse when I realized the elevator wouldn’t work unless I had a keycard. No matter how many times I stabbed the down arrow, it refused to respond to my demand.

Anxiety rose from my stomach and overrode all sense of rationale. It had me blindly searching for an escape.Anyescape.

In my state of desperation, I inserted a finger into the small hole that housed the emergency override button.

A beat of silence pulsed before sirens blared to life. Deafening and screaming at me as if they were every haunting fear I possessed, rising from the dead and hunting me down with starved appetites.

I let out a strangled cry of relief when the elevator doors leisurely coasted open. I hurried to get my suitcases inside the cart, then turned my back on Dante’s apartment.

The descent took forever. When the elevator finally glided to a stop, I took a deep, fortifying breath in preparation to bolt from the building.

As the doors cracked open, I tightened my grip on both suitcase handles, put my head down, and ran. Ran straight into a wall of hot, sweaty muscle belonging to none other than the gorgeous man I was desperate to avoid.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-NINE

Dante

Blind rage propelled me into the elevator. My senses didn’t return until I hit the gym in the basement floor.

I tore the t-shirt from my back and welcomed the air-conditioned chill on my bare skin. Penny had poured gasoline on my shitty mood and played with matches, intent to get a reaction. It worked.

Now, I was down here, seething with rage over the heartless things she’d accused me of.

Fuckingglory?

Thatcut me the deepest. She could spout on about me being a chauvinist pig every day of the week. Water off a duck’s back. But questioning my morals and integrity,thensaying she wished she never met me?Thatgot my back up.

Accusations like that were barely forgivable, even when mindlessly screamed in the heat of the moment.

I leaned against one of the cold mirrors, but stepped away when all I wanted to do was turn around and punch it. Instead, I headed for the punching bag hanging in the far corner of the gym.

Each strike failed to take away the anger. In fact, it pushed it higher, as if daring me to dish out my worst. I didn’t give a fuck about my bare knuckles taking the punishment. They bore the brunt of each impact. With each punch, grunt and curse, I poured as out much rage as I could.

The fight with Penny had ripped a giant fucking hole in my chest. Of all the arguments I’d had with Sadie, this one with Penny sliced infinitely deeper. And frankly, I was a little disgusted at myself for feeling more affection for Penny than I had after years in a relationship with Sadie.

I hit the bag harder, each impact ricocheting up my arm and into my shoulder. My jaw locked and ground down as I laid punch after punch, swapping arms when the leading arm grew tired.

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