Page 33 of Salvation

Dante’s size is imposing, even more so when he’s wearing a fucking ski mask like some criminal. “Move away or regret it,” he warns, cracking his knuckles.

Jack walks away so fast, disappearing into the crowd.

Dante’s dark eyes pierce me through the holes in the mask, a fire of rage burning within them. “You’re coming with me,” he says, and for the first time, I fear the man who wears the cloth.

Dante’s grip on my arm is firm. He’s pulling me through the crowd, the sea of bodies parting for the imposing figure. I’m too stunned to resist, my mind a whirl of questions, fear, and an inexplicable, budding curiosity. I open my mouth to protest, but he’s already guiding me out of the party into the cold night air.

“Dante, what’s going on?” I finally manage, looking up at him. His face is still obscured by the mask, but his eyes, those familiar, intense eyes, bore into me. He doesn’t reply; he keeps walking, leading me away from Eva’s house and toward a motorcycle.

I shudder when I see it because I recognize it. It’s been parked outside my cottage numerous times in the evenings. I always wondered whose it was. And suddenly, the danger of the situation strikes home.

Has he been watching me?

“You’ve been stalking me,” I accuse.

His only response is a noncommittal grunt as he throws me a helmet. I catch it out of reflex, staring at it in my hands. He pulls on his helmet over the ski mask. I can tell he’s watching me, waiting for protest or defiance. But for some reason, I can’t summon either.

Instead, I put on the helmet.

Dante’s chuckle is low and rough, like gravel. He swings a leg over the bike, patting the space behind him. I hesitate for a beat before I join him, wrapping my arms around his waist. He’s warm, and despite the fear humming in my veins, I can’t help but lean into him.

The motorcycle roars to life, and we disappear into the night, leaving the pulsing music and raucous laughter behind. His stalking and obsession feel like my lifeline, a strange beacon in this once-foreign world. My life has become a whirlwind of fear, disguised threats, and stolen glances. And in the eye of that storm is Dante Jensen. The priest. My stalker. My savior?

As we speed away, I bury my face in his back.

What is happening?I ask myself. But, as the wind whips through my hair and the engine roars in my ears, I realize I don’t have the answers. Not yet.

12

DANTE

The church grounds are silent. I’m thankful my home is on the grounds far enough out of town that no one will see us. I press the button on the remote for the roller garage doors and wait for it to lift as Madison clings to me tightly. Her scent of lilies and lavender drives me closer to the brink.

She’s fucking crazy. Why the hell did she go to that party? And why the fuck was she flirting with Jack. When I saw him put his hands on her, I knew there was no stopping my carnage. People were looking at me weirdly, wearing that mask, but I couldn’t be seen. No one can know the true nature of my obsession with this girl.

I park the bike in its usual spot and hop off, pulling off my helmet and the ski mask. Madison remains like a statue, her helmet still on. “Get off,” I demand.

She doesn’t move. Frustrated and slightly concerned, I yank the helmet off her head. Her hair spills out around her shoulders like a waterfall, and her eyes are so full of fear it almost physically hurts me.

“Get inside,” I order, trying to keep my voice steady. My hands are shaking. I can’t let my little doe see how much I want her. How much I crave her.

She moves slowly, her trembling hands reaching out to pull herself off the bike. The fear in her eyes doesn’t diminish, but she follows my order. She always follows my orders.

I follow behind her, unable to tear my gaze from her. She walks slowly, almost as if afraid to make a wrong move. As she reaches the front door, she turns to look at me. The fear is still there, but there’s something else too. Confusion? Curiosity? I can’t tell.

I reach around her and unlock the front door. She flinches as my body brushes against hers.

A shiver runs down my spine, but I ignore it. “Get in,” I rasp.

She stiffens but steps inside, looking around the dark interior of the house.

I shut the door behind me, trapping her inside with me. The realization makes me shudder. I’m a monster. But I don’t care. She’s here. She’s mine. The darkness inside me roars with satisfaction.

I watch her momentarily, taking in the sight of her standing in my hall. The lingering fear in her eyes makes something inside me twist with a sick pleasure.“I’vebeen watching you, Madison,” I confess, my voice echoing in the silent house.

She bites her bottom lip. “I know, I felt you watching me at the party, and?—”

“No,” I interrupt. “Not just tonight.”

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