Page 36 of Damaged & Deadly
“I know.” I laugh, already knowing what he meant.
“Sorry.”
Redoing the button of my shorts, I look up at him, ensuring he sees the sincerity in my eyes when I say, “You don’t need to apologize for being you, Dante.”
He just nods, uncomfortable and unsure of how to respond. I give him the easy out by taking his hand and leading him out of the closet.
We’re walking down the empty back hallway, and just as we reach the corner before the bathrooms, I spin on my heels, staring at the back door. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” Dante flicks his gaze in the direction where I swear I just heard something.
We both stop to listen, but all I hear is a resounding silence. After a moment, I shake my head. “Maybe it was nothing.” However, before we can move a muscle, the sound comes again.
Based on the change in Dante’s demeanor, he hears it too. His spine snaps upright, his face darkening to something resembling your worst nightmare, but I’m barely paying attention because this time, I know exactly what that sound was—a scream.
Without a second thought, I run toward the back door and shove it open, sending it flying as I hurtle into the alleyway. The same one where I fucked Oliver and disappeared on him.
“No, please. No!”
“Shut the fuck up, bitch.”
I spin in the direction of the voices as a muffled cry follows the caustic words. Hidden behind a dumpster, a vulgar-looking man has a young woman shoved up against the wall. Despite her heavy makeup and short dress, she looks younger than me with her wide eyes and trembling limbs, and at the helpless look in her eyes, I see red.
“Hey!” I yell as Dante steps forward, his threatening posture appearing even more intimidating and deadly in the dark shadows cast by the weak streetlight.
With wide, terrified eyes, the scumbag drops the woman like a sack of potatoes and takes off down the street. Dante takes off after him while I rush over to the poor girl crumpled in a heap on the ground as she sobs uncontrollably.
“You’re alright,” I try to soothe. “He’s gone now. Everything’s okay.”
Huge, tearing sobs rip out of her as I pat her awkwardly on the back. I’m not used to consoling terrified women. I’d be much more comfortable in Dante’s shoes right now.
“Are you here with anyone?”
“Y-yes, my friends.”
“Alright.” With a gentle touch, I coax her to her feet and over to the door. “Go back inside and find them.” I can sense her hesitation, her reluctance to leave me, but I place a hand on her back to encourage her forward. “It’s alright, he won’t hurt you now. Off you go.”
With a final sniffle, she scurries inside, and the outer door slams shut behind her. Now that she’s gone, I hurry down the alley, hoping Dante hasn’t killed the asshole yet. My thumb runs along the lip of my boot, the desire for blood thrumming through my veins. It’s been far too long, and the thought of finishing this night off with a bit of bloodshed sounds like the perfect end to our date.
Chapter 15
By the time I catch up with Dante, his fist is covered with the asshole's blood. Said asshole is half unconscious, his nose broken and brow split under Dante’s brutal punches.
“Stop,” I cry out as I approach.
With his arm raised above his head in a pre-emptive attack, Dante freezes, his head snapping toward me as confusion mars his features.
“What?” he snarls, and his voice is like nothing I’ve ever heard before. It’s so devoid of emotion that it sounds almost robotic. As far from human as one can get. “Why?”
I smirk. “Because I have a better idea.” He stares at me with a deadpan expression, and I roll my eyes. “Looks like you’re getting a two-for-one deal tonight.” Still not catching on to my meaning, he just raises an eyebrow, silently telling me to hurry up and get to the point before his patience runs out. The grin I give him is positively feral. “You’re about to meet the Reaper.”
Seemingly intrigued, Dante leans back on his haunches, lowering his arm but not loosening his iron-tight grip on the asshole’s chest while he pins him to the ground.
“W-what? Let me go!”
We both ignore him while Dante drags him to his feet. He darts his gaze around the otherwise empty alley before moving further away from the back door.
“N-no. P-please,” the asshole stutters. “I-it was a misunderstandin’.”