Page 1 of Throne of Sin

Chapter 1

Dante

10 years ago, 19 years old

Screaminghasmyheadsnapping up from the kitchen table. I glance at the door, then to my brother Savio. My hands hesitate as I place them on the table to help push myself back.

“Dante…” my mother warns in her sinister voice.

She insists we sit as a family for every meal, even though our family is torn apart and none of us want to put it back together again. She’s all about the illusion of family and the power she believes that she holds over us.

My feet shove the chair back and it topples to the ground with a clatter.

“Don’t you dare leave this table.” My mother wipes her mouth daintily with a white cloth and glares at me.

“She’s a big girl who knows how to handle herself, Dante,” Savio says under his breath. We both know that’s a lie, but he knows what will happen to us if I leave the table.

I glance down at my older brother. He sighs before shoveling another forkful of food into his mouth. We both know I can’t conscionably sit still when Demi might need me. Savio tilts his head for me to go, but I hesitate, not wanting another beating. My mother is cunning. It will come when neither of us expects it. I might have seventy pounds on her, but I still refuse to lift a hand to her and she knows it. She uses this to her full advantage.

I leave the table, rushing out of our house and bee-lining it for the one across the street. Demi comes flying out and trips on the stairs, falling onto the hard, cracked concrete. Her father steps out with a black leather belt in his fists, snapping it as he walks closer.

“If you so much as touch her with that, I will strangle you with it in your basement.” I step out from the dark shadows, bending down to lift Demi up from the ground. Her cheek is already red and swollen from him hitting her.

“You can’t protect her from everything, Dante. She’ll have to come home eventually.” Her father turns around and slams the door.

“You’re only making it worse, Dante.” Demi cries into my shoulder.

I hold her tight, one hand sweeping over her long dark locks. Fury ignites in my gut that her father would prey on the weak. He should be out here fighting me instead.

“Come on, we can sit on my roof until he falls asleep.” I pull her away, keeping her clutched under my shoulder. She hisses with a limp as she tries to walk. I hold her tighter, taking as much pressure off her leg as I can, and guide her across the street.

“Maybe he’ll drink too much and not remember tonight.” She hiccups between her soft sobs.

I bend down and pick her up, bridal style, because her limp tells me she’s in more pain that she’s willing to let on.

“I can walk.” She leans her head on my chest, no real fight in her. Damn if it doesn’t feel great. I would burn our world down for this girl.

“He won’t hurt you again,” I vow, my voice fierce as I think of a plan to retaliate. My arms hold her tighter as I consider all the horrible ways I could exact my vengeance for every mark he’s ever left on her.

“Don’t be making promises you can’t keep,” she scolds.

I glance down and find her eyes full of fear and uncertainty, the hope of me taking her problem away too big of a thing for her to grasp. I get it. It hurts more when you give a shit and things go sideways. That’s been my whole fucking life.

I lick my lips, hating this feeling of inadequacy. I’ve never excelled at anything. Savio is the fighter in our family and I’m the one with no talents.

I cross the street, walking to the side of the house closest to my bedroom.

“Hold on to my back.” I easily maneuver her from my front to my back before I climb up the hidden ladder. It’s the easiest way to come and go from my household.

The shingles dig into my palms as I climb onto the roof and set Demi down. I wish I could offer her an ice pack or something to help with the pain. Instead, I sit beside her, my legs stretched out, her body leaning into me as her arms hug her knees to her chest.

“We could run away, leave this hellhole,” I suggest. She’s the only reason I’ve stayed this long, anyway. Savio and I have two older brothers, maybe one of them could take us in.

“We could live off the fish in the sea and have a little beach hut,” she replies with our typical fantasy talk. It helps to forget our roots while knowing we’re never getting out of here. No one ever does.

“I would hunt by day.”Make love to you by night. I wish I was brave enough to say the last bit out loud.

“I would make us a home. Not a house but, you know…that feeling you get when you’re around the right person.” I wrap my arm around her and press a kiss to the side of her head. A comfortable silence washes over us as we look up into the star-filled night.

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