Just like I know we’ll be at it again in a couple of minutes. Just as soon as I can recover.
If I thought finally giving in and fucking Tori was going to get her out of my system, I can already tell I was wrong as hell about that.
I know I’m not good for her. I’m not boyfriend material, like I already told her.
But damned if I’m not starting to get ideas, anyway.
“Hey,” she murmurs. Her voice is low, and a little husky from screaming. “You want to order a pizza?”
I start laughing.
“What?”
“Just not what I expected you to say,” I chuckle.
“Oh.” She pauses. “Well, do you?”
I don’t answer right away. Not because I don’t want to, but because I do. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do, in fact, than hang out here with Tori, eat pizza, and then go for round two.
“Sure,” I say, against my better judgment. “Pepperoni?”
“With mushrooms?”
“Deal.” I lift myself up on an elbow. “You call. I’ll buy.”
An hour later, we’re sitting on her couch, eating greasy pepperoni and mushroom pizza off paper towels. She’s in just my shirt. I’m wearing my jeans.
“They really need to get a decent pizza place in this town,” I grumble. “Not enough Italians in Ironwood.”
Tori swallows a mouthful. “Have you always lived here?”
“Not always, but close to it. I was born in Cleveland. My ma moved us here when I was five.”
“Does she still live here?”
“She died eight years ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
Tori is silent for a few seconds. “Savannah — that’s my roommate, the one you met here the other day — said you have three other brothers, besides the one I met.”
I nod. “They all left town as soon as they could, after high school.”
“Why did you stay?”
I shrug. “Leaving only makes sense if you’re going to something, not if you’re running from something. I’m gonna be the same person, no matter where I am.”
She frowns. “You never wanted to… I don’t know. Go off and see the world?”
“No reason I can’t do that, and still come back here.”
The fact is, I’ve never thought about it all that much. The rest of the world is probably filled with good people and bad people, just like here.
But sitting here with Tori, I can almost imagine wanting to leave town for a while. Take a trip. See something new. With her.
Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with me? One good lay, and I’ve lost my fuckin’ mind over some chick.
“I guess you’re right,” she says softly. “I haven’t taken a single trip anywhere since I moved to Ironwood. Except back home to see my parents. Funny how it never even occurred to me that I could.”
“You feel pretty trapped here, huh?”
“Is it that obvious?” Tori chuckles. “It’s weird. I used to really love it here, when I was a kid. I spent all my summers here with my Aunt Jeanne. In this very house. Ironwood used to be my place to escape.”
“And now?”
“Now…” She sighs. “Now, it feels like a prison.”
“What changed?”
Tori bites her lip, avoiding my eyes. “But like you said. I’m the same person, no matter where I am,” she murmurs, almost to herself.
It doesn’t escape me that she didn’t answer my question. But I don’t push it.
Tori reaches for another piece of pizza from a box on the coffee table, but I pull it away out of her reach. “Hey!” she cries, raising her eyebrows at me. “What’s that about?”
“That’s enough pizza for now,” I say firmly.
“Are you seriously policing my pizza intake right now?”
“Hey, later on, you can eat the entire rest of the pie. I don’t care.” I shut the box and stand up, then reach out a hand to her. “But not right now.”
“Why not?” she asks as she takes it.
“Because right now,” I continue, pulling her to her feet, “you’re going to take me upstairs to your bedroom.”
Tori’s mouth drops open, and then her lips curve into a smile. “Is that right?”
“That’s right. And once we’re up there, I’m going to make you come so hard you’ll forget your own name.”
“And what if I still remember my name afterwards?” she asks breathily, her eyes teasing.
“Then the next pizza’s on me, too.”
17
Tori
When my phone rings on my nightstand a little after ten-thirty p.m., I know instinctively who it must be. My stomach drops a little as I lean over to reach for the phone.
“Don’t answer it,” Dante groans as I detach myself from his arms.
“It’s Savannah,” I explain. “If I don’t answer, she’ll think I’m dead and keep calling until I pick up. And if I don’t, she’ll come over to check on me.”
Too late, I realize I’ve told him too much.
“Why would she think you’re dead?” he frowns, propping himself up in bed on one elbow. “That’s fuckin’ weird.”
Thankfully, I save myself from having to invent an excuse by pressing the ‘answer’ button. “Hey, Vannah,” I say, holding a finger in front of my lips to shush Dante.
“Hey, girl!” she calls out over some background noise that’s muffling her voice. “You all good?”
“Yeah. Good here. Where are you? Sounds like a party?”
“Kind of. Remember Jeremy’s friend David? He’s moving to Florida, so we’re doing a going away dinner for him at Parkside Tavern.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Anyway, Jer is gonna have some of them back to his place afterwards. They’ll probably be up late, and I have to work tomorrow, so I was planning on coming back home to spend the night. That cool with you?”
I sit up in bed, a jolt of adrenaline spiking through me. “Uh… I’m uh… sure!”
Next to me, Dante cocks a brow. I look away.
“Are you sure, Tor?” Savannah asks. “You don’t sound sure.”
“Savannah, you live here. Of course you can come back and spend the night in your own bedroom in your own bed, for God’s sakes!” I sound high-pitched and squeaky, trying too hard.
“I mean, if you’re sure sure…” she trails off, uncertain.
“Of course!” I repeat quickly. “I probably just sound weird because I was sleeping. I’ll probably been in bed when you get home, so I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Okay,” she murmurs. “‘Night, Tor.”
“Night,” I say back, relieved.
I end the call and then turn to see Dante staring at me. I can’t quite read his expression.
“You want me to leave?” he asks.
“No, of course not,” I say automatically, heat rising to my cheeks.
“Yeah, you do.” He lifts himself up into a sitting position, muscles flexing in his forearms and chest. I open my mouth to protest, but then close it again. Because I don’t want him to leave. Not at all, actually. But…
“Dante,” I blurt out. “It’s not… It’s just…”
He stands. His back is to me as he draws himself to his full height. God, he’s gorgeous. I can barely believe how gorgeous. The raw, feral physicality of him when he moves takes my breath away. I’ve always had a hard time not sort of staring at him, since the first day we met. But now, seeing the full, lean, muscled reality of his naked body? Feeling his strength and power when he moves against me? I think I’ll remember every single detail of him until I’m in my grave.
I don’t want him to leave, at all. My skin already aches for the feel of him. My body is already lonely for the weight of him in my bed.
“It’s only…” I murmur, feeling unsettled, and a little ridiculous. “You don’t think it would be a little embarrassing to have my roommate discover my electrician in my bed?”
“Why?” He bends to scoop his jeans from th
e floor, then turns to look at me. Good God, that chest. Those thighs. That…cock! “Does she think electricians don’t fuck?” He pauses. “Or does she think you don’t?”
“It’s not that,” I protest.
“What is it, then?”
“It’s just…” I start, then fall silent. Everything I can think of to say sounds… dumb, I guess. Juvenile. I can’t really put it into words.
Why don’t I want Savannah to know Dante is here? Why don’t I want her to know anything about what just happened? She’s my best friend. She tells me practically everything about Jeremy. God, I even know he’s not circumcised and which one of his balls hangs lower than the other. She’s told me practically everything about every boyfriend she’s ever had since we were fourteen.
I’ve told her stuff, too. Not that my dating history is as long or as interesting as hers. But I’ve held a lot back, to be honest.
Sitting here in bed, looking at Dante, for the first time I start to wonder why that is.
Dante’s still looking at me, his jeans now on and fastened, his dark T-shirt in one hand. With a start, I realize he’s been waiting for me to finish my sentence all this time.
“I guess I don’t really know,” I mumble. My stomach feels weird. I feel defeated.
Dante blows out a breath. “Look. It doesn’t matter.” He pulls his shirt on over his head. “I’ll see you later.”
I’m at a loss for words. Everything I think of to say seems wrong somehow. “Are you coming over to work tomorrow?” I finally manage.
Dante shrugs. “Maybe. I’m pretty close to finishing up the project. I’ll be in touch.”
I start to get out of bed, to walk him out, but he holds up a hand.
“It’s fine. I’ll let myself out.” The hint of a smirk moves across his lips. “I know the way.”
Then, he’s gone, the thud of his heavy boots growing distant down the stairs.
I don’t follow him. Partly because I’m still naked under this sheet, and partly because I still don’t know what to say.
Is he mad? Should he be? He shouldn’t, should he?
I mean, he probably wasn’t going to spend the night anyway.
Oh, my God. Was he going to spend the night?
Did I just kick a hot guy out of my bed who was going to spend the night and give me amazing sex tomorrow morning?
What the hell have I done?
I sink back against the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. Below me, the front door closes softly. I have no idea what just happened. I may have just ended whatever started with Dante tonight. Assuming there was a “thing” that “started,” that is.
I start to replay our conversation, and the more I think about it, the more I feel like an idiot. God, I said it would be embarrassing for Vannah to see me with my electrician. Even when I said it, I knew that wasn’t really what I meant.
And I’m definitely not embarrassed to be seen with him. He’s easily the hottest man I’ve ever seen in person, much less had sex with.
So, what’s wrong? It’s not Dante. Not at all.
I think it’s me.
It’s not that I’d be embarrassed for Savannah to know that I had a one-night stand. I mean, okay, I’ve never had one before. But she’s had tons of them. I know she wouldn’t judge me for that.
It’s just… Savannah sees her role as the Best Friend Who Looks Out For Me. She checks up on me every morning and every night, for God’s sake. She started doing that from far away, during my senior year in college. I finally managed to convince my parents to let me live on campus for my last two semesters, instead of at my mom’s house. I even managed to get a single room in one of the upperclassmen dorms. It was the first time I had ever lived by myself. I babbled non-stop to Savannah the whole summer before school started about how excited I was.
When September came, I didn’t notice at first how she was texting and calling me more than usual. But then I did notice. And I was touched that she felt like she should be checking up on me. And a little saddened at the same time.
Since I moved to Ironwood, Savannah treats me just like she always has — except for the texts and calls, which I’ve gotten used to. For the most part, my best friend’s worry for me is contained. She checks up on me daily, and I let her. Lather, rinse, repeat.
If I’m honest with myself, I’m afraid to let Savannah know about Dante. Afraid something will change. Afraid she’ll start to worry more. And afraid that if this ends up being more than a one-night stand, my best friend will demand that I tell him about my heart. And when Dante finds out, he’ll walk away. Too afraid to be with the broken girl.
As I lie in bed, I think about what he said, when I asked him why he’d never left Ironwood.
“Leaving only makes sense if you’re going to something, not if you’re running from something. I’m gonna be the same person, no matter where I am.”
For the first time, I wonder whether coming here to Ironwood was going to something, or running from something.
At the time, I just thought it was admitting defeat. But now, I’m not so sure what it is.
I’m gonna be the same person, no matter where I am.
I’m not so sure Dante’s right about that. I’m pretty sure the Tori who was set to conquer the world is different from the Tori who’s stuck here in southern Ohio with her broken dreams and her broken heart.
About half an hour later, I hear Savannah’s key in the front door, and then her steps coming up stairs.
I turn over and stare across the bed, at the pillow Dante was using.
I wonder if it smells like him. But I don’t check.
It takes me a long time to fall asleep.
18
Dante
Indio looks haggard.
His features are sharp, his hook nose prominent — like a scythe slicing his face into two halves. He’s a man who wasn’t blessed by the genetic lottery in the first place. But the stress of the past few weeks is still showing on him, all the same.
His men are surrounding the abandoned farmhouse where we’re meeting. Looked to me when we came in like his entire posse is out there. Seems like a bad choice to bring all his men to one place, given they’re under siege right now. But he might have figured their best chance of surviving any attack is if they have all their manpower with them.
“So, you’re sure it’s Los Caballeros,” Axel growls at him. “No one else it could be.”
“We are sure.” Indio’s tone brooks no doubt. “Our former allies have turned against us. We formed our alliance in an attempt to stand strong against infiltration by the Sinaloa cartel. But Los Caballeros have betrayed us. They are now working for Sinaloa.” Indio’s lip curls. He turns his head and spits viciously on the ground. “They will learn that they have made a large mistake. But only once it is too late.”
“So now, Los Caballeros will be turning their sights on us,” Rourke mutters.
Indio nods once. “You do business with us. This is business that Sinaloa wants for itself. Therefore, as long as you are our friends, you are their enemy.”
This is the most I’ve ever heard Indio speak at one time. While Chaco was alive, he mostly stood silent in the background, as Chaco’s right-hand man. I’m not sure what I think of him yet. But I appreciate his bluntness. A lot of new leaders in his position might try to sugarcoat what he’s saying. Because he’s got a lot to lose right now. He ain’t in the strongest of positions. I respect that he’s not trying to bullshit us.
“How much do Los Caballeros know about your business? Your comings and goings?”
“They knew too much,” Indio admits. “As you know, they knew enough to find Chaco, even in hiding. And to kill him and the men who were protecting him. Since then, I have moved our operations to a secure location. We are heavily armed, and our security system is unmatched.”
“What about once you leave the compound?” Bama challenges. I glance over at him. His jaw is hard, his pulse ticking in his cheek. “You can’t hide in there for
ever.”
Indio trains a laser stare at him. The two bodyguards flanking him visibly tense.
“Axel,” he says smoothly. “You ought to train your dog better. He does not seem housebroken.”
Beside me, Mal snorts.
Axel glances over at Rourke, irritated. Rourke shoots Bama a look that could melt iron.
“Bama has trouble controlling his mouth,” Axel grits out. “But you best believe, he remembers who is in charge here.”
“Let’s hope so,” Indio intones, his voice hard as flint. “In times like these, loyalty and obedience are important.” He pauses, then continues, slightly louder. “Those who cannot be trusted must be removed. Before they become a liability.”
I glance around the room at Indio’s men, all of whom are standing in place like statues. I find myself wondering who he’s talking to right now. If he is speaking from recent experience regarding removing potential liabilities.
“Let’s move on,” Axel barks. “In light of everything going on right now, the Lords of Carnage are taking steps to make sure our movement of product isn’t in danger of being intercepted. We have a new transporter.” He nods toward me. “It’s my man Dante here’s brother. He’s not a Lord, but he’s trustworthy. And he’s under the radar. We’ve set up another transport route, as well. This one will be more secure, though it’s more out of the way.” He pauses. “What I need from you, Indio, is your word that the route you use to get your product to us won’t be compromised. I can guarantee the safety of our product once it reaches us, but I need your word that you can guarantee the pipeline won’t be interrupted by this war.”
“You have my word, Axel.”
I’m not sure if it’s bravado, but Indio doesn’t hesitate.
“Yeah? How can we be sure?” Bama pipes up again, his tone mocking. “Looks to me like you’re down a few men. And now Los Caballeros have the gun power of Sinaloa on their side. What if you lose this war? Why should we stick with our agreement with the Dos Santos cartel?” He lets out a sharp laugh. “Hell, you’re not even the Dos Santos cartel anymore, now that Chaco’s dead. The Lords would be fuckin’ fools to stick with the losing side.”
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