Authors: Jaci J
London
I’ve been studying like a madwoman because my finals are close. I’m a nervous wreck. Matt actually left, calling me crazy and psychotic. Dante’s goons have been here, banging down my door. If they come back I’m calling the cops. I haven’t even had the patience to talk to Dante because I can’t focus when I’m thinking about him, which is a lot.
I turn from the fridge and there he is, Dante in the flesh, leaning against the kitchen island. I think the fucker is more comfortable with B&E than he is knocking, and he’s looking quite pleased with himself.
“What the fuck. Dante. You have to stop doing that!” I whine.
“I told you I was coming over,” he says, pushing away from the island. I swear, the nerve of this asshole.
“How the fuck do you keep getting in here, anyway?”
“Your front door, of course. I’m not Spiderman.” I’m definitely worried about security at this point. This is the second time he’s gotten up to my floor and inside my apartment, and he was not invited up or in either time. “Since you won’t answer that question, then answer me this. Why?”
“I told you I was coming over before you tried to blow me off. I didn’t take it very well and thought I would come see what’s got you so busy today that you can’t be bothered.”
“I wasn’t in the mood to talk to you.” I protest. I’m not sure why I bother.
“Well I wanted to talk to
you
.” He counters, giving me a charmingly dimpled smile. Apparently it was worth breaking in over.
“Next time you break in here, I’m gonna shoot you.” That Castle Law would apply to me, right? I should check it out.
“I seriously doubt that, London.” Okay, but I’m investing in a very protective guard dog.
“Did I tell you how beautiful you look today,
cara
.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“Why?” He asks, looking truly perplexed.
“Because you’re the player type and I’m not in the business of being played. I’d much rather be the coach.”
“If you haven’t noticed, London, this has been your game the entire time. I’ve been chasing you, not the other way around.”
“I’m pretty sure once you started breaking in you got the upper hand.”
“Maybe so, but if you really wanted me to stop, I would.”
“Sure,” I mutter doubtfully.
“Do you
really
want me to leave you alone?” Yes. No. Sometimes. Oh hell, not really. What is it about this guy?
“Sometimes, but most of the time, not really.”
“That’s good to hear, because I really don’t want to leave you alone.”
“London!” Matt’s clipped voice fills the room. “Oh, hey,” He tips his chin at Dante but keeps his eyes on me.
“Sure, what’s goin’ on?”
“Sit down.” I do. “Perry’s been coming around work, asking questions about you.” I’ve been expecting this since the night of the charity function. We’d been so careful. Matt and I had changed our last names and moved around from place to place after I left Perry, trying to throw them off my trail with Grandfather’s help. After a few years went by, he said it was safe to come back to New York, so we did. I was close to graduating, so he wanted me here, ready to learn the ins and outs of the company so he could prepare me to take over. Therefore, I went back to using my families last name, DeLacourt. Grandfather insisted that he had handled the situation and made it clear not to question him on any of it, so I didn’t. I have no reason not to trust him. He’s always loved and protected me, and that’s enough for me.
“What has he been asking?” Dante asks, looking pissed off, but Matt continues to address me.
“He asked about how long you worked there, who your friends were, where you lived, where you hung out. He knows it all now. He can find all that shit on the web, but he’s snooping for more personal shit about you. Kendra was more than happy to tell him everything she knew after I talked to her. He also knows you’re about to graduate, and you know what that means. ”
“I do. He and my father are planning something.” That’s the only reason they’d be asking about me. Anything they need to know can be looked up, but they need something else. They’re planning something, and I have to find out what it is.
“I’ll figure this shit out.” Dante’s voice booms through the room. God, I almost forgot he was even here.
“What?”
“I’ve got calls to make, so just stay quiet and I’ll take care of it.” Dante grumbles as he walks away. I don’t know what he thinks he’s gonna do.
My stomach hurts and my heart feels like I’ve run a marathon Matt rests his head on my shoulder and squeezes my hand. “It’ll be okay. Your grandfather … hell, even Dante, are on it.” Reaching into his pocket, he hands me my phone.
There’s nothing that can fix this. It’s been a lifelong problem, starting from the moment I was born. “I hope so, Matt.” But I’m doubtful.
I start to dial, “Grandfather?” He picks up on the second ring.
“London, Matt called and told me everything. I want you to stay calm,
cara mia
. It’s being handled,” he says on the inhale of what I’m sure is a Cuban cigar. He’s quick with the calm.
“Should I leave?” A deep exhale is followed by a rustling of papers.
“No. I will never see you run again. I’ve got guys on it. Don’t wander out, especially alone, and all should be okay.”
“Okay.” But I don’t feel very convinced.
“London, I’ve got to go. Things are fine. Ring me if there’s an issue.”
“I will. Love you,” but the phone clicks off before I can finish.
~~~~~~
“Where did Matt just run off to like a bat out of hell?” Dante asks from the front door.
“Man candy’s house.”
“Man candy?” He asks, sounding confused.
“His boyfriend.” I clarify.
Sitting down on the coffee table in front of me, I notice he’s lost his jacket and his black button up shirt is missing the tie and a few buttons. He leans in and places a hand on my thigh, looking at me with those stormy, foreboding eyes. His hair is in its constant messy state and his suit is wrinkled.
“You look handsome like this, “ I tell him softly.
“Coming from you, I’ll take it.” He leans back to take a long look at me. “Are you scared?”
“No.” I lie.
“You’re lying to me.” Sometimes I wonder why I even try. He can obviously see right through me. “If you know then why ask?” He only shrugs.
Standing up, he holds his hand out to me. “Lets go home.”
“I am home.” I point out.
“Up.” He demands quietly.
“Where are we going?”
“My place.” For the first time since meeting Dante, I don’t argue. I’m too tired. “Go grab some things and we’ll be on our way. Don’t worry, London. I’ll take care of you.” It’s nice to hear, at least.
~~~~~~
Dante’s been gone an hour now. God knows what he’s doing. My phone died on me and I’m all out of energy for stressing out. What’s truly unsettling is that he’s one of those rare freaks with no cable, therefore I have nothing to do now. What does he do with all his free time if he’s not watching TV. He probably draws up maps of where I go every day, maybe even the layout of my apartment since he seems to know where to find shit. Maybe he prowls the Internet for weapons of mass destruction? Who knows with that man.
The moment we walked through the door he left me with, “I’ve got things to handle, but make yourself at home.” He placed a rough kiss to my lips before disappearing down the hall, so what does a girl with no cable or entertainment do with her time? She digs. Yes, I’m digging through his shit. Tit for tat, so I’m snooping.
His kitchen provided nothing good except for a well-stocked fridge with everything you could ever want, and a wine fridge that is abundantly stocked. But there’s no secret trap door to his lair hiding behind a cabinet.
The bathroom off of the pristine laundry room was nothing but a bathroom. Not a damn thing in it. The laundry room was more of the same. Boring. I haven’t wandered down the hall yet because that’s where he disappeared to, so I’m stuck snooping in the main living area.
Now my ass is planted on the living room floor, digging through his TV stand. He has a TV to rival all TV’s, but no goddamn cable. What a waste. In one drawer I find seven million remote controls. The second one is locked. I’ve got a kitchen knife in hand and I’ve been picking at it for the last five minutes. I’m not making much progress. He can do it to my house, so I’m doing it to his.
A loud throat clears behind me and I almost chop my finger off. “Will you stop sneaking up on me? Shit, I almost lost a finger.”
Lifting one dark brow at me he asks, “Having fun?”
“I am.” Shaking his head, he chuckles and sits himself on the couch. I don’t stop on his account. I keep going.
“What are you looking for, London?” That’s a good question. I have no clue.
“Your stash of porn, or maybe your books about how to become a stalker.” I tell him truthfully.
“Porn isn’t needed, and why would you think I’d lock stalker books in my TV cabinet?” So maybe I hadn’t thought it through.
“Who knows with you? You’re a bit of an odd duck.”
“You think I’m odd?”
“Stupid question.” I retort quickly. He’s the oddest of odd. Mr. King of the Oddballs.
“You do have a point,” he muses softly.
Pushing himself off of the couch, he puts his hands on this narrow hips and stares down at me, “Are you hungry?”
“If I say yes, are you going to drug my food?” He laughs and it makes me smile. I think I really like his laugh.
“Probably not. You shower and get comfortable while I cook.”
“You cook?” I can’t keep the surprise off of my face and shock out of my voice. He just rolls his eyes and holds a hand out to help me off the floor.
“Shower, you fucking snoop.”
No shower for this girl. His tub is where it’s at, so I leave and do as he says.
~~~~~~
I’ve been soaking and relaxing in his bathtub, all the while listening to the banging of pots and pans, the water running, and his occasional
shit
or
fuck
when I’m guessing he burns or cuts himself, but the sounds are comforting and the smells are divine.
The door cracks open and Dante’s handsome face appears, “Thought I sent you in for a shower?”
“As long as I’m here and you have this tub, this is where you’ll find me.”
“So you’re using me for my tub?” He muses.
“Yes”
“I’m okay with that since you’re naked.”
“Pervert.”
“I know. Get out, the food’s done.”
~~~~~~
Twirling my fork, I wrap the yummy sauce covered noodles around it and pop it into my mouth. We’ve been talking and it’s kinda nice getting to know the man who’s barreled his way into my life.
“What do you do for work?” I ask him casually. I know little to nothing about this strange, yet intriguing man.
“I buy companies.” He says easily enough. That doesn’t explain a whole lot.
“And?”
“A little bit of this and a little bit of that. Nothing much.”
“So you do nothing?”
“I do a lot of different things, and someday I’ll tell you all about it, but for now, I don’t feel like discussing my boring work.” That’s alright … for now, anyways.
“So, my beautiful London. What are you going to school for?” He asks, sounding genuinely interested. I’m not sure why, maybe I was born this way or it just could be him, but I can’t keep the sarcasm to myself.
“To be a ninja.” I deadpan.
Without missing a beat, he responds with, “That’s what I thought. Great career choice― comfortable uniform and a wonderful benefits package.” I lose it. I laugh so hard my sides hurt and tears fall down my cheeks. Snark does wonderful things for his handsome features. He’s laughing and looking relaxed.
“You leave me little choice but to feed into your strange imagination.”
“Imagination? So are you implying that I’m not a ninja?”
“Of course not. You most certainly are a ninja.” I give him my best eye roll, but it’s impossible to hold back the smile. Mr. Creepy has a funny side.
“Maybe if you’re lucky, tomorrow I’ll show my ninja kicks and throwing stars.”
~~~~~~
After dinner, we watch movies. I get to pick so I grab
Goodfellas
. Dante’s not a fan, yet it’s in
his
DVD collection. He grumbles and complains about everything from how wrong they are about the depth of how far down to dig to bury a body, to the way they make their pasta.
“You know how to bury a body?” I ask him after he starts his complaining again.
“It’s only logic. That hole can’t be deeper than four feet. Look at him standing in it. It’s only to his hip, if that. He needs to bury it at least six feet.” Okay then. He knows an awful lot about burying bodies.