Page 60 of Dante Beretta
I won’t bend the rules for you.
My dad’s words were on repeat, refusing to get out of my head no matter what I did to distract myself. Dario helped for a little while, but as soon as he was asleep, they were back, getting louder and louder.
He was wrong. Dante wouldn’t get rid of me. Right?
I hated how he’d made me question everything I’d been through in the last few months. I’d been so sure about everything, about the way that Dante felt about me. About the way I’d fit into the family so easily. I mean, Jesus, I even called Dante’s ma, Ma.
Yet, I couldn’t stop the niggling feeling at the back of my brain telling me that it was all too good to be true.
They always said the calm came before the storm…and right then, as I searched for a towel to dry my wet hands and pulled open the top drawer where we kept them, I knew the storm had just landed, cracking its first roar of thunder.
Shiny black metal stared back at me from the drawer. I’d seen guns before. I’d been around them. But never been close enough to touch them.
Until now.
My fingertips brushed against the cool metal, shocking me.
What the…
I didn’t know what possessed me to pick it up. I didn’t know why I held it in the palm of my hand, narrowing my eyes on it as I took it in. It was similar to the one Dad had always had, although his was always locked up in a safe at home.
But this…this was here, for anyone to see, for anyone to touch, for anyone to shoot.
My stomach dropped, my hands shaking. Anyone could have gotten to this and I’d had no idea it was even here. It wasn’t like I wasn’t aware that Dante had guns, but he was always so careful with them. I’d only ever seen a glimpse of one on him.
So why was this here? Why was it sitting in the top of my drawer?
“What the fuck are you doing?”
I jumped at the rough, demanding voice, the gun slipping through my wet fingers and landing on the floor. I didn’t know what I expected to happen, but I didn’t envision it going off. It blasted a hole in the wall opposite me, leaving a small plume of smoke in its wake.
I stared at it, my ears ringing from the loudness of the bang, everything moving in slow motion as Dante darted across the room, picked it up, and clicked some buttons until bullets fell out and onto the floor. Six bullets. Six metal rounds thudding against the floor.
“Fuck, shit.” He placed the gun on the carpet, leaving blood there too, then dove over to me.
My legs were giving way, shock taking over my entire body as I realized what had happened. His arm reached for me, holding me against him. His lips were moving, but I couldn’t hear what he said, couldn’t process the words he was trying to make me understand.
The gun had gone off. In the house. Where our son slept every night.
He could have been in here with me. In fact, I usually set his chair in the corner where the bullet had ripped through the wall.
Oh my God. He could have been in here with me.
My entire life could have changed in the blink of an eye, and it was all Dante’s fault.
“You’re okay,” he hummed out, stroking my hair as he sat us on the edge of our bed. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”
I stilled, waiting until I could hear properly, then I turned, looking him square in the eyes as I said, “I hate you.”
He jerked back, his eyes widening, his grip loosening on me. And I took my opportunity to jump off his lap. I didn’t want to be anywhere near him, not after this, not after the danger he’d brought into our home. In that moment, he wasn’t the Dante I’d come to know, he was the monster that I’d gotten a glimpse of.
He’ll kill you. It’s what they do.
I despised that my dad’s words chose that moment to ring in my head. But it was nothing compared to what I felt when I looked at Dante’s face. I…I couldn’t be around him. Not right now. I needed space. From him.
“Get out,” I demanded, backing away and pointing at the bedroom door.
“Navy,” he started, standing, but I was done listening, done putting all of the red flags to the side. I was mad. More than mad.