Shades of Sins (New York Sinner Series Book 2)

35| Love

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Love

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Chapter 35: Love (Anastasia's POV)

That night, far too many thoughts were racing through our minds for us to get any sleep. Restlessly, we kept tossing and turning for several hours before finally calling it quits and going downstairs. 

Closing the fridge as I retrieved a water bottle, I focused on Dante as he sat at the kitchen island, flicking the lighter between his fingers incessantly. "What are you thinking about?" I asked, setting the bottle down and standing beside him. 

"No matter how many different ways I think about it, I can't understand why he would leave such a big clue behind," he replied, running a hand over his mouth. "Why reveal himself now?" 

I paused in thought. "Technically, we have no evidence," I mumbled, "we can't prove that the culprit is Ethan Morales." 

"Do you think he'll kill more people?" 

"I don't know," I answered truthfully, watching Dante. 

The dim lights of the kitchen casted a warm glow over him, almost like candlelight. The little frown between his brows had returned, and the stress was written all over his face. I hated seeing him so distressed and not being able to do anything. 

Stepping closer to him, I pulled myself onto the counter, clutching the table's edge. "He might wait longer," I said. "The cooling period between his murders has only been a week. He might take more time to plan things out and be more careful. We know it's him. One wrong move and he'll be caught." When another frustrated sigh came from his lips, I couldn't take it anymore. "Dante—" 

"What if it's a distraction?" he asked, staring up at me. "What if these murders aren't hiding a secret message, just distracting us from whatever he's truly planning?" 

"There's no point if all we're doing is assuming." 

Groaning quietly, he dropped his head against my knees, holding my waist. 

My fingers naturally stroked his hair. "Let's stop talking about it," I said softly. "It's making things worse." After a few minutes passed, I gave his arms a light squeeze. "Let's go back to bed," I whispered. 

Lifting his head, Dante rose up to his feet and positioned himself between my legs; he brought his hands down on the counter, caging me in. "I can't even think straight, let alone sleep peacefully, Mia Cara. Don't let me keep you up." 

I clutched his shirt when he stepped back and held him in place. "Tell me what to do," I pleaded, "I hate seeing you like this." 

"Ana—" 

"Please." 

"It can't be helped, I—" 

I caught a quick flash of surprise in his eyes as I gripped his shirt and tugged him closer, bringing his lips to mine. 

It wasn't that I didn't want him thinking about the case. I understood what reliving old memories had done to him today. I felt the same. Talking about the pasts that we were haunted by our entire lives, bringing up the memories we tried so hard to bury, it was hard to forget about them tonight. Isaiah Morales and what he put us through possessed all our thoughts.