. . .
Lily Jenkins
My dreams were haunted. Every time I closed my eyes I saw him.
Samuel Creed.
I thought I didn't feel guilty, but perhaps I had just been too occupied by Dante to fully understand the gravity of what we had done.
This was an everyday thing for Dante. He didn't feel guilty. He saw things as necessary or unnecessary and moved on.
But I had a habit of lingering. I hesitated at every door.
I told Henry about it.
"Damn, Macbeth."
"Hey, I am not Macbeth in this!" I grumbled, lying on my bed. "But I am seeing him." Okay, maybe I was a bit like Macbeth in this.
"Or, you're searching for him. It's just a manifestation of your guilt. Like Macbeth."
"Would you stop it?"
"No, because now I am imagining the Creeds as the weird sisters for some reason. With big ass beards."
I laughed. He laughed with me. It felt good to laugh with him. I felt so far away from him now. "Oh, you're horrible."
"I can definitely imagine them chanting together," he continued but then sobered up. "Have you talked to Dante about this?"
"I feel like he'd think I am overreacting."
"Yeah, I get that. Seb said I overreacted when I saw him beaten up. We just aren't as used to violence."
"Yeah," I muttered. I didn't want Dante to think I was overreacting. He'd never say it, but he'd think it, and then I'd be excluded from that part of his life. Because how much nagging could he take? "How are the wedding preparations going?"
"Bad, because you're not here. As my best woman, you're supposed to be here and run around doing things with me."
I smiled. "The final match is in two weeks. I'll be there after it, I promise."
"Yeah," his voice went a tad bit quieter.
"What's wrong?"
"It's about what Dante did."
I knew this was coming. "Oh."
"I'm not asking you to break up with him or anything. But...Lily, Sebastian was fucked up when he came back. He says he doesn't care, but I think he felt betrayed. They were friends before this. He even tattooed the triplets."
"I underestimated how much possessive Dante can be."
"Yeah. But, but then Seb said he would have done the same if it were me. He also added that he would have killed Dante."
"...both of them are crazy."
He laughed. "Yeah. So, I guess it's okay. If he isn't holding a grudge, then I don't either. If I am to marry him, I can't hate his job and his boss. And, above all else, he is keeping you safe."
"Don't force yourself to forgive for my or Seb's sake, Henry. Take your time. This isn't something anyone can get over quickly. I think we both need to understand the world we are stepping in is a lot more dangerous than we thought."
This reminded me of what Leyla had said. Get out before the Mafia swallows you whole. I thought that was an exaggeration, but considering her depleting mental health and my seeing ghosts, it didn't feel like an exaggeration anymore.
. . .
Dante grabbed the back of my neck pulling me to him, making me get on the top of my toes. He stared down at my face. "You've been crying."
"I wore my contacts for the first time in a while," I lied with a smile. "I am fine."
"That's a creative lie, baby. I'd be proud of you if you weren't lying to me." He slightly choked me with his giant hand, head lowering till his lips brushed my cheek. "Tell me what made you cry so that I can make it fucking disappear."
"I wrote an emotional death scene."
"Lie."
"...I miss my moms."
"Truth, but not really. What made you cry, baby? You're such a good girl for me, baby blue. I don't want to watch you struggle to sit for a few days." He paused. "Or maybe I do."
I let out a shaky breath at that. The image of Dante bending me over this lap, speaking in that voice of his while his large, tatted hand rained down on my ass-
He sat me down on the couch and grabbed a chair, sitting right in front of me. He cupped my face, glaring into my eyes as if he could make the redness disappear.
"Are you mad at me?"
"Yes. What made you cry?"
"I..." I gulped. "I don't want to tell you."
He let go of my face, leaning back in his chair. His face blanked. My heart beat faster at that. "For the last time. You don't want to tell me?"
"No," I whispered.
He stood, buttoning his suit jacket. "I have dinner with the Creeds and my brothers. I will be late."
"C-can I come along?"
His eyes were merciless as he said, "No."
And he walked away.
I stared at his back, the words on the tip of my tongue, but then I swallowed them.
I didn't know why I hesitated. Dante understood guilt, but would he understand it when I felt guilty about him killing someone who was after his life? I had a feeling he'd think it was irrational.
He went to his room, probably to change and then go to his dinner.
Perhaps it was for the best. I couldn't imagine facing the Creeds feeling the way I did. They didn't know we killed their cousin but I did. And I may blow it.
I stayed where I was and turned on the TV, watching some random show.
Dante came out of his room in about half an hour, every strand of his perfect hair in its perfect place. He was dressed in a dark suit, as always. I'd say he looked like a businessman, but his eyes always gave him away.
There was something so different about them to consider him a normal man.
He didn't spare me a glance and walked to the lift. "Call Marco or Nino if you need anything. Don't wait up. I'll be late."
I stared at him, biting my tongue.
He paused when he reached the lift as if hesitating, which was very uncharacteristic of him.
He walked towards me, eyes glaring down at me. He grabbed the back of my head and kissed me, so deeply that I couldn't keep up. When he was done, he pulled his head back.
"You're mine, Blue," he said quietly, threateningly, firmly. "Whatever bothers you, bothers the fuck out of me, too. Tell me when you want, and I can pretend to have patience for a while. But answer me this, whatever you're hiding, can it physically harm you?"
I shook my head. "No."
"Good girl." He kissed my forehead.
I grabbed his hand before he could pull away from me. "Come back soon?"
He looked at my hand holding his, barely able to wrap around his. He stared at that for a while.
"I will try."
He kissed me again, this time just a peck, and walked away.
. . .
