Trigger (Pericolo #3)

by Kirsty-Anne Still

  “People you don’t want to know,” Dante remarks, his tone becoming fierce and angry.

  “Ryleigh!” Jackson calls out to me as he comes over. “What the hell are you doing here? You’re supposed to be at the club.”

  “She’s just going back,” Dante answers for me. He turns to Jackson, his body stiff. If anything, he looks as if he’s ready to attack. “She’s not working a two-week notice, she’s going straight up to Dynasty,” Dante orders Jackson. “She’ll do good to work days. I don’t need a distraction in my fucking life. It’s already chaotic enough. I don’t need to worry about seeing her scantily clad body working a pole every other day.”

  “You talk like I’m a whore,” I snarl.

  The girl he met at the club finally flares up, making an appearance full of fiery grandeur.

  I feel a part of me break away at that comment. I’m used to men ogling me, used to them dreaming about touching me, but when Dante identified me as a whore, my anger flared. He has all these pretty little ideas about me, but there is more to me than what I put on show.

  I think if he finds that out, it’ll scare even him.

  “Well, aren’t you?”

  “Dante,” Jackson warns, his own voice lowering with agitation at that comment. “Don’t you fucking talk to her like that. You know nothing about Ryleigh or why she’s part of our team. You don’t get to waltz into the club and demand an opinion. As you said, that club is my business now. You opted to be a silent partner, so stay fucking silent!”

  “Whatever. It’s because of her I just got made to look like an absolute fool!”

  “No, you’re just pissed off because she made the poster child of the Valentino family look a little battered and bruised,” Jackson argues, stopping him from leaving. “Take your anger out in the cage, not against one of our employees!”

  “She’s your employee,” Dante disregards.

  Oh wow, this man is a bit of a child when he wants to be, I think.

  “Not for long. As you said yourself, she’s not working her two-week notice, and she’s going straight up to Dynasty.” Jackson doesn’t look prepared to let Dante get away with this right now. “Soon she’ll be your issue and that’s how it’s going to be.”

  My eyes dart back and forth between the two arguing men, but as I settle upon Dante, I watch him roll his shoulders, trying to ease some tension from them, I guess, but it doesn’t work. He turns to me with just the same, if not more, aggression.

  “Be at the club eleven AM sharp Monday or else,” Dante tells me, without even meeting my gaze. He then starts to leave, heading back to the warehouse where I’m sure he’ll resume his winning streak.

  Jackson shoots me an apologetic look and goes with him. There is more to these two than we’ve ever been told, and I realize that now. I don’t know what bond they have, or how they came to be friends, but something seems sinister. More than the warehouse full of testosterone-fueled men, all wanting to be the best and come out on top.

  “You can’t just leave me here. Not like this!” I shout out, watching their retreating figures as neither shows any interest in me.

  Dante stops first, turning back, emblazoned by my plea.

  “You brought yourself here, Ryleigh. I’m sure you’ll find yourself able to get home.”

  “You really think I can just leave now?” I ask. Desperation ebbs into me and I wonder if they really think I can dull this moment from my memory and walk away. “There is no way I’m going to leave as if I’ve not seen what you really are.”

  “This isn’t what I really am,” Dante admits, returning to the spot before me. “This is just a small sliver of what I am. I told you this already.”

  “And that’s what made me follow you,” I blurt without a second thought.

  “Is that so?” he asks, and I nod silently. “Then tell me why you really came?” he asks, his tone cutting. “I don’t want any bullshit lies from you either. You say you followed me because you suddenly want to know who I am, but why?”

  I sigh, raising a hand to run around the back of my neck. I look at the floor, unable to meet his gaze until I start speaking.

  "I came because for months I've seen you watch me, months you disappear as soon as I finish my dance, and now that I've finally met you, I want to know more!"

  "This curiosity will be the death of you,” he mutters, a mirthful tune to his voice. “Trust me, you don't want to know more," he tells me, lowering his tone once more in the hope his darkened stance will scare me off a little. "I am not the sort of man you want in your life."

  "Don't sound so certain you know me," I quip, daring him. "Don't ever assume you know me."

  "Oh, I know you all right," he starts to tell me. "I know you're a survivor, which makes you inquisitive. It also makes you stupid and forces you to believe you're invincible. Which you're not, not by any measure. You believe you can handle more than most think you can."

  "I can handle more than most," I finalize, a defiant fire beginning to build within me.

  "Then prove it."

  I can tell by the look on his face that the line escaped him way before he could possibly stop it. I have also noticed that I seem to make him uncomfortable as if I send him into a frenzy. Without knowing it, I challenge him.

  For once, I feel like I’m making the sanest decision I’ve made in years. Standing here, before Dante and Jackson, I feel like I’ve found a reason. But it’s not just that which has me challenging him. It’s that sense of knowing there is something here for us to explore.

  “Okay,” I whisper, and I hear Jackson swear from behind us. I close my eyes, steadying my breath before I continue, begging my harsher self to come to light. “Just tell me how.”

  A deliberate silence settles over us like dust calming in the air. There’s background noise and traffic in the distance, but between Dante and me, there’s nothing as he mulls over how he could possibly challenge me.

  “I have an idea,” Dante suddenly says, striking upon an idea.

  “What’s that?” I ask, matching his confidence.

  "What do you say, Ryleigh?" he asks rhetorically, reaching out to cup my jaw. Unconsciously, I tilt my head into his hold, my eyes fluttering shut momentarily at the touch. "Wanna join the dark side?"

  My eyes open to look up at Dante as Jackson moves closer.

  "Dante," Jackson interjects. I sense him move forward, trying to play nice and talk Dante down off a fiery ledge. "Don't do this. Ryleigh is just a girl from the club. She's not cut out for what you have in mind."

  I notice he didn’t take his eyes away from mine. I beguile him, and I think it has something to do with the constant spark of curiosity I haven’t managed to shake when around him. I was always told I had an overwhelming sense of defiance that kept me from running from potentially dangerous situations – ones like right now.

  I don’t need to be told what Dante is when I can tell he’s a darker character than he appears – and that’s saying something already.

  "What do you say, Ryleigh?" he asks, ignoring Jackson. "Do you want to try to keep up with the big boys?"

  I remember someone once calling me crazy because I took on a high school bully. He was twice my size, two years older, and he would’ve taken me down with one poke. But I still took him on, still challenged him, and never backed down.

  That same adrenaline rush has been dormant for years. I’ve had no stimulation to arouse it, no reason to feel it pulsate through my veins and make me feel alive – until now. The danger that Dante is swathed in is alluring and makes me become a daredevil. He triggers something in me. He’s a spark I forgot I needed and he’s a flame I know that will only burn me, but I don’t care. I want to burn brightly for a little while, and I know he’s my only option.

  And for some strange reason, my primal need and the small amount of knowledge that I have of Dante clash together and I know he’ll be more than a beautiful downfall. I know he’ll give me a chance to be free, a chance to sneak away and to shed my
self of the pain I allow to follow me. I know he’ll be beautifully damaging to my conscience and I’ll never turn back with regret. He’ll be my liberation because a tainted soul like mine needs an equal. I need to dance freely and Dante proves I can already do that in his presence. It’s time I know what else he can have me do in order to free myself of the chains that have oppressed me over the years.

  Call me crazy, but Dante Valentino feels like the best worst decision a girl could make.

  “Do your worst,” I reply.

  My response has more of a reaction from Jackson than it does Dante. He stands before me, with the tiniest of smirks on his face. However, Jackson swears and approaches us enough to pull us apart.

  “You’re a fucking idiot,” he swears at Dante, pushing him back. “Just because we can cope with this life doesn’t mean anyone else can. Jodi’s a hard fucking limit for me, but Marcello allowed her to be a part of my life. I’ll be forever grateful to him for that, but she didn’t come into my life under the guise you’re forcing Ryleigh into yours!”

  Dante laughs, but it’s not hearty, far from it. It’s mocking; I’m just not sure if he’s aimed it at Jackson or me.

  “You make it sound like I’m going to marry the girl, Jax.”

  As a blush creeps up my chest, rushing to my cheeks, I realize he was indirectly aiming it at me. Fucking great.

  “I’ve only just met her, but if she’s dim enough to think I’m something worth following, then I’ll show her how wrong she was.” He chuckles again, rubbing his jaw as he enjoys the amusement I’m so clearly causing. “I don’t have time for a hook-up, and fuck a marriage, Jackson, but I do have time for a little fun in corrupting naïve little girls.”

  “Can we stop talking like I’m not here, please?” I ask, my tone cutting. I’ve come across as a damsel in distress in varying colors tonight, but it’s time to be the girl my past made me. “You seem to have me marked, Dante, but I’ll tell you now… you are about to eat every assumption you’ve made about me.”

  “Oh wow,” Dante admonishes, finally meeting my gaze with confidence. “You’re like a little wolf, Ryleigh. You strike up suddenly when we least expect it. You also have quite the bite. I find that to be a bit of a turn-on.”

  “Well, I’ve spent my life proving men like you wrong, so why stop now?” I ask, setting my hands on my hips. “I know Jackson thinks he’s looking out for me, but I won’t allow you to beat me down. You watched me for a reason. I want to find out what it is.”

  “Silly, little wolf,” Dante chortles at me, and I can see he’s taking great enjoyment in issuing me a new name. “Jackson has your best interest at heart because he knows exactly what my family is and what I am. I don’t give a damn about any of that, but Jackson is your one reason to run before you get too deep.”

  “I don’t need to run,” I announce bravely. “He seems to have survived being in your family.”

  “I didn’t have a choice to join his family!” Jackson exclaims. I can tell he’s feeling distraught over this, but all he’s doing is fueling me to find out what sort of family Dante comes from. However, my comment seems to have stirred a fresh fight. “You think I wanted to be in your family, Dante? I had no choice in the matter, but she does! The only thing I’m taking from it is you, my brother!”

  “Well, okay,” Dante remarks with a cautious tone to his voice. “I’ll leave it up to her. I would never jeopardize what we have for a girl.” He now turns back to me and my nerves become violent. “You want into my life?” he asks me, focusing the question entirely on me. “You want to witness what it is I do with my time? Even after what Jackson has said, you still want to work alongside me when I decide I want you to?”

  I don’t need a second thought.

  “Yes.”

  “Very well.” Dante turns back to Jackson to see if he objects before returning to face me. “You better get ready to hold on tight because once you enter my world, there’s no easy way out.”

  “What is your world?” I ask, begging to know more than he’s letting on.

  “You’ll see,” he muses.

  “Why are you so aloof?” I persist, unable to let him go. Dammit, I’m starting to sound like a child, inquisitive and downright annoying! “Jackson is acting like I’m signing my death warrant, and you’re looking all too happy to have me tag along.”

  “I just know there’s a lot in store for you, Ryleigh. I don’t know what exactly will come of this, but I know we’ll have a lot of fun.”

  I know I’m not getting anything else and the pressure is hard to ignore. I have no idea what I’ve taken on, but for once, I feel a sense of purpose. If I’m going to have any hope of exacting revenge from the people who destroyed my life, then I need a man like Dante to build me up. He makes me feel stronger and forces me to wear a bravado I believe in wholeheartedly. If he’s done that in mere hours, then what will he do for me in a couple of weeks?

  I just hope this isn’t going to be my ultimate downfall.

  “Where do we go from here?”

  “I’ll come and find you,” Dante comments, that same little smirk back on his face. “Don’t you worry, little wolf. I’ll come for you when I need you.”

  As he walks away, I’m left wondering – if this is the dance with the devil, why does it feel so right?

  5DANTE

  “You’re going to fucking kill the girl!”

  “No,” I reply, pouring myself a drink. “That wasn’t the plan at all, Jackson.”

  “So, what are your plans for her?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrug, finding my drink far more interesting than this conversation. “But death isn’t even in the equation... yet... and who said anything about her death?”

  I lift my drink – not to make a toast, but to look at it. The ice floating around cools it enough to allow me to use as a gentle remedy on the bruise forming on my eye. Yet another reminder that Ryleigh Turner is going to be the death of me if I don’t allow myself to see her as a business acquaintance.

  I watch him survey me while he attempts to see sense. My brother is the one of us who never lost that sensation a heart gives – that gentle caress of compassion. He maintains that one day I will feel it, too, but it’s been twenty years since I ceased feeling it, and I don’t dare to believe I’ll feel it again. All I’ve ever known is emptiness and loathing for the past that spawned me. The life that led me to stand here in front of my empathetic brother and listen to him try to evoke justice within my soul.

  He’ll always be the benevolent angel on my shoulder, but it seems the devil on the other always curses louder.

  “So, you got her to verbally commit to some deal with you. You’ll lure her in, and then what?” Jackson asks, pressuring me. “For a trumped-up dickhead, you’re looking pretty clueless over this.”

  I bite my tongue, willing myself to not tell him that I’ve imagined fucking her hard, that I’ve seen her in my saner moments, and I’ve imagined everything I could do with her. I refuse to allow Jackson to see that she’s become an itch I just cannot scratch. I thought at first she was just a girl on a pole, but when I looked at her closely and saw those imperfect lines in her skin, I knew I needed to know more. Her will to fucking trespass in my life caused me to throw up fifty-foot walls and become the asshole, but in that same instance, it only drew her closer. It’s caused me to become the man who faces his traitors. She might not be scared, but she will be.

  After all, she’s just a girl stupid enough to sell herself to the devil’s advocate.

  “I want her to take the fucking bait...”

  My notion ends, but my inner thoughts continue. I actually want to see her bend and break. I want to see that body exceed its own limits and still work as if nothing’s happened. I want to see if she’s taken to her life as a survivor as I have. I want to see if she can stand up to everything I test her with, and I really want to see her fucking crash and burn. I might take great delight in men who cower at my feet, but I know I’d go hard for a
woman who measured up to me and continued standing.

  I want to meet my match.

  I don’t know if she is it, but I am more than willing to find out.

  “You don’t know anything about her. She’s trying to get her feet on the ground by changing bars,” Jackson starts, but I promptly stop him.

  “What if I pay her?” I ask him, and he grimaces while I smirk. “If it’s money, then I have plenty I’m willing to splurge on her. She can have that and work with, by me, for me.”

  “You cannot treat her like she’s a common whore,” Jackson admonishes, exasperated to the hilt. “We’ve already established that’s exactly how you see her, so don’t make it fucking worse.”

  “Well, she dances for money, half-naked,” I start to say. The thought causes my mind to salivate, erupting with every moment I’ve seen her dance.

  “So?” Jackson asks me, throwing a hand up to brush across his hair. “There’s always been something about Ryleigh that meant she could never fit in. Jodi always noticed it. She doesn’t need to be led into our sordid little world, Dante.”

  “She seems pretty fucking capable of making her own decisions,” I tell him; I feel I’m starting to scowl.

  “No, Dante, you don’t understand,” Jackson fights me, looking more infuriated than ever. “Ryleigh... she’s not like other girls you’ve met. She has a lot of demons, and this won’t help her.”

  “Oh, don’t feed me her sob story, Jax.” I stop him, my lip curled in disgust. I can’t stand to listen to him. “All of the girls who end up in that club of ours have some sort of abandonment issues.”

  “You can really be an asshole when you want to be,” Jackson scolds. His voice scorches the words, but he’s yet to ignite with fiery aggression.

  I offer him a chortle of pity. “I think the word you’re looking for is cunt. I can really be a cunt when I want to be,” I correct him, watching his eyes glisten. He wants to laugh, but on the same token, he wants to berate me about my brash decision to enlist Ryleigh into this life. “Now, let’s speculate,” I announce, facing him with a thoughtful glare. “She was daddy’s little girl until her childhood sweetheart broke her heart and she couldn’t stand the heartache, so she ran. Got all the way to Brooklyn to find she had no money, no relatives, nowhere to run, and wound up on our doorstep here.”