DANTE [] BOOK 1

PROLOGUE

June third, two thousand and eighteen. My nightmare.

I was at my highest peak. Penis as hard as it could get. Veins popping out like there wanted to take part in watching the show. Her body writhing beneath him, almost shuddering. He grunted, fucking her senselessly and in my pleasure I failed to take notice of her pain.

"Red."

It came out a shriek. He pounded, thrusting with so much vigor. Fingers meeting her neck, choking her, violeting her.

"Red."

This time it was a strained groan, turning my ears erect to what she was desperately trying to communicate. She pulled hard at the handcuffs that restricted her from being in contact with him. Her wrists were now bleeding from the unwelcome violent friction. He didn't take notice. He was lost in a world of pure sexual ecstasy, one hand still choking the life out of her, the other taking hostage of her left thigh which he'd grabbed tightly to pull her closer to him as he thrust deeper, violently, unimaginably fast.

"Stop," my voice came out hoarse, "Luvuyo, stop, you're hurting her."

He didn't stop and I became uneasy. Hands suddenly sweating, unsure of what action to take until she tried to let out a scream and he growled in response, telling her to shut the fuck up.

"Luvuyo, she said the safeword goddammit!"

He was either being ignorant and choosing to savor his bliss or he honestly wasn't hearing me or Naledi who was now uncomfortably twisting and arching her back in an attempt to escape the sexual torture she was failing to endure. It couldn't have been the latter and that fuelled my rage.

I abruptly stood from where I sat, pulling my jeans and fastening them as fast as I could. In a short few strides I had Luvuyo by the neck, dragging him as far away from her as possible. I didn't give him a chance to speak, to fathom what was going on or to even breathe.

The first punch met his cheekbone. It was hard, brutal and it hurt. From there onwards everything became a blur. I punched, and I punched, and I punched. In my head all I was thinking of was every violent thrust he'd awarded her with his penis. I wasn't in control, something else in me was. Probably the demon that had persuaded Naledi to let another man fuck her in my presence, tie her up like a caged animal and dominate her as if he was a god.

Blood splattered. My fists bloody hurt and I insanely loved the feeling of him underneath me. Almost lifeless, weak, writhing, not in control, just like he'd made her. He deserved it.

"Dante stop!"

I heard her plead. The pain in her voice only served as gasoline to my anger. I let him hurt her and now I was going to hurt him for hurting her. It was the only way I could feel better about myself, the only way I could make up for being a total fuck-up.

"Dante!"

If she hadn't been restrained by the cuffs she would have most certainly tried her best to stop me. She couldn't though, thankfully. All she did was push, pull and turn in an attempt to miraculously free herself. It was only after a while that I came to and realised what I was doing, what my demons had coerced me to do.

"I, I, I'm sorry," I breathed out, suddenly taking in my surroundings and realising the bloody mess I had made. My hands shook, my body trembled and my walls broke down. I found myself starting to cry, looking at all the blood that covered my hands and Luvuyo who looked lifeless beneath me then without warning my gut couldn't take it in and I vomited.

"Luvuyo!" Naledi called out, "Dante what the fuck have you done, Luvuyo!"

"Hey. Hey, Luvuyo," I said, sniffling. Tears still freely making their show, "Wake up buddy."

"Please don't tell me he's dead, Dante please don't."

I lightly slapped him, "Luvuyo wake up goddammit, this isn't funny."

His bloody face awarded me with a blank lifeless expression. He couldn't be dead, not so easily. I got up, unsteadily made my way to the couch where I had been sitting and grabbed the handcuff keys so I could uncuff Naledi.

"About bloody time," she let out, suddenly letting out a painful cry when she tried to get up. He'd messed her up by fucking her so violently hard, making her weak and leaving her in so much pain. If he was alive I wasn't going to regret what I had done to him as compensation. If he was dead, well, that was a totally different story.

Naledi dragged herself to where he lay. She knelt down and began to feel his pulse and it was obvious from the panic in her eyes that I had become what I had never thought I would ever be in all of my existence, a murderer.

"Dante he's dead," her voice was shaky, she fumbled with Luvuyo's body, touching him, calling him, begging him to wake up but he didn't, he couldn't, he wouldn't. The realisation had me tear up even more.

"He's not dead, he can't be, maybe, maybe, maybe he's pretending to be, maybe ---"

"He can't pretend to have fuckin' stopped his pulse Dante what the actual fuck!"

"I didn't kill him, Naledi, I didn't mean to, I ---," I fell to my knees, my feet suddenly too weak to carry the weight of my body. I looked at Naledi, naked and now covered in Luvuyo's blood, who also lay there naked; a horrible portrait that I knew would be stuck in my mind till the day I die. I couldn't stop myself from crying, I was scared shitless.

"We have to call the police," Naledi said after a while. My head shot up and I looked at her as if she was suddenly insane.

"Are you psychotic?" it came out as a harsh whisper, "You know they'll fuckin' arrest me. I killed him Naledi, I fuckin' killed him."

"It was a mistake!"

"Tell that to the bloody cops and see if it'll save me from being thrown in jail. Where the hell have you seen a mistake like this."

Her eyes shot daggers at mine, "It wasn't a mistake?"

Was it?

Had I meant to kill him?

No, but he deserved it. He had pretended not to hear her when she'd said the safe word. He had chose to take it way too far and it wasn't part of the deal. He betrayed me, he betrayed Naledi and he deserved to pay for telling her to shut up when she told him to stop. In a way I saw it as sexual harassment, she wasn't consenting anymore so he was supposed to stop. He didn't, and regardless of how I hadn't meant for what happened to him I felt for a moment that he was good riddance, the world wasn't going to stop because of his death, the world was probably a better place without him in my own judgement.

"It was," I let out in a heavy breath, "Call the police."

In as much as I knew that wasn't what I wanted, I knew I was doing it for Naledi. If it was up to me, I was going to bury him in a ditch and pretend none of this ever happened. After all, no one knew about it except Naledi and I.

"I love you," Naledi said in a whisper before dialling the police. I didn't say it back but my heart was relieved to hear her say those three words because in all honesty, I killed Luvuyo because I loved Naledi Nzimande.