Page 122 of Executing Malice

“I’ll make you wait until next year if you keep being a brat,” he warns. “And brats won’t get woken up with a tongue in their pussy.”

I do love his tongue and waking up to it deep inside me. I don’t like waiting. The conflicting feelings have me wanting to stomp my foot like a child, but I refrain with a grudging, “Fine.”

I follow him back to the kitchen and my pans of pumpkin guts. He returns to his drill and his creations.

We work to finish our tasks. I get my seeds washed, dried and seasoned before putting them on a clean tray and preheating the oven.

Dante stacks his pumpkins in a tower of three, each one hollowed and carved with dozens of tiny holes like constellations scattered across an orange sky.

But the moment the flame catches, I understand his method. I see his thought process. I get to witness the lights fracture through the perforations and scatter across the walls, a galaxy of shifting stars. Each pumpkin holds its own pattern,so the trio casts a restless choreography of shadows, a living dance of stars.

“It’s so pretty!” I gasp, hands flying up my mouth.

His response is to capture my wrist and drag me to him. In the same motion, he spins me under his arm, eliciting a stream of giggles before I’m tugged into his chest.

“We were never allowed to have these moments,” he murmurs, holding me close as we sway to music only he can hear. “I stole you a pumpkin from the grocery store once. Snuck it home to our room. We sat in our pajamas with newspaper across the floor. The knives were shitty, but we carved the ugliest smile on its face.”

Lost in his story, I lean into him, resting my head against the steady patter of his heart, mesmerized by his low murmurs. “What did we do with it?”

His free hand drifts down to brush a lock of hair behind my ear.

“Everett caught us. He stomped it into a million pieces. Never even got a chance to put a candle inside.”

My head jerks up. “What a piece of shit. Why would he do that?”

Dante shrugs. “He hated me. Hated that I had you.” His thumb skims along my jaw to my chin. “You were the one thing he could never have, and it drove him crazy.”

Angry for the children we used to be, I can’t find it in my heart to feel bad for that motherfucker. I pray wherever he is, his dick is a black husk of rotted flesh.

“Well, why would I want to be with someone like that?”

Dante gives a low chuckle. “No one ever said no to Everett or his friends.”

I scoff. “He had friends? No doubt other assholes just like him.”

“Basically. He always knew how to find the worst people. It was like a smell. They were all drawn to each other. The worst was this kid named Angel. He only had a few months before turning eighteen and opting out of the system. He was in some gang and thought he was tough. He and Everett clicked. It was ... it was a really bad time.”

The skin beneath my palm radiates with a heat that burns. It singes when I press closer like I can somehow change the outcome.

“What happened?’

His story pauses when the oven beeps, signaling that the preheat is done. I break away just long enough to hurry over and slide the sheets of pumpkin seeds across the rack. I set the timer and hurry back into his arms.

“Everett was always bad on his own. He enjoyed causing pain, but with Angel, he found his calling. The two of themtogether became a nightmare for everyone under that roof. My parents didn’t care as long as the checks came in and they weren’t being bothered. Everett and Angel learned quickly how to torment the younger kids to not leave marks. No evidence. It was purely psychological torture. Angel set his eyes on you. Like with Everett, you became the prize in their fucked-up games.”

I shudder and press closer against his strength.

“We got into a lot of fights, them and me. I wouldn’t let you out of my sight. I didn’t trust them alone with you. Wouldn’t let them hurt you. We spent a lot of time finding places to lie low at night. Empty buildings, secluded doorways. We just had to keep our heads down for a few more months, then we could get our own place and get away from all of them.

“Thankfully, Angel aged out first. He was removed from the house and things seemed to work out in the end. Everett on his own was easy to deal with.”

I exhale into the hollow of his throat. “I’m sorry.” I tip my face back, nudging the underside of his chin with the end of my nose as I peer up into his eyes. “You had to deal with so much because of me.”

One big hand cradles the back of my skull, gripping me to him. “I’d do it again.”

I skim my lips lightly over his, relishing in the sweet taste of him before drawing back.

“Can I ask what happened to your parents? Your siblings? To Everett?”