Page 20

Chapter Twenty: Jade

H e stayed.

He raided my fridge and he made us lunch after he chose to stay.

I’d been making a concerted effort to cook more–now that I wasn’t working in the lab, it was easier to dedicate time to it–so he easily found ingredients to work with.

I forked a piece of the grilled sea bass, watching the flaky layers part under the tines—Dante’s culinary skills always surprised me.

But as we ate, he addressed the issue hanging over us.

“You should stay here in Harbor Cove,” he said, his voice low, almost blending with the distant hum of the boats docking outside. “Keep your head down, Jade.”

“Head down?” I scoffed, but my bravado faltered under the weight of his gaze. “And what about you?”

He reached across the small table that was cluttered with our lunch spread—a stark reminder of the normalcy we both craved. His fingers brushed mine, sending a jolt of warmth despite the winter chill seeping through the apartment windows. “I love you,” Dante murmured, and it wasn’t just the words but the way he said them, like a confession made at gunpoint.

“I know,” I managed to reply, feeling the knot in my throat tighten. It was the truth, stripped of any pretense.

His hand retracted, and he leaned back in his chair, the shadows of the room accentuating the hardness in his jawline. “I probably won’t be back for a while. Detective Rodriguez has me on a tight leash; I’m not supposed to leave the city.”

“Everything’s such a mess.” My voice broke, betraying the chaos swirling inside me. “I miss you.”

The admission hung between us, as raw and exposed as an open wound. We continued to eat, the silence stretching out, filled only by the clink of cutlery and the muffled sound of waves against the cove.

The silence was a living thing, broken only by the clink of our forks against the plates. I toyed with the remnants of my salad, unable to ignore the gnawing feeling in my stomach that had nothing to do with hunger.

“Jade,” Dante said, his voice low and careful. “Is there anything else you miss?”

My chest tightened, and tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. I blinked them away, but one betrayed me, sliding down my cheek. “The people at the diner, the inn... they’ve been so kind.” I paused, my voice a mere thread of sound. “But I was on the cusp of a breakthrough with my research, Dante. It feels like I’ve left a piece of myself behind.”

He reached out again, this time cupping my face in his hand, thumb brushing away the tear. “I’m so sorry I left you in a place of despair.” Regret laced his words, pulling at the fragile threads of composure I held onto. “It’ll never happen again. You need to have a phone—something secure. I’ll ship one to you.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, taking a moment to steady my breath before picking up my fork again. But the food tasted like cardboard now.

Dante checked his watch and then stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. “I shouldn’t even be here.” His voice was rough, like it pained him to say it.

I followed him to my feet, my heart thumping against my ribs as we headed for the door. Our footsteps echoed in the empty hallway, an ominous drumbeat that seemed to herald the end of something. Or the beginning.

We exited the apartment, and the crisp sea air hit me, carrying the scent of brine and freedom. A freedom that felt more like a prison without Dante by my side.

“Let’s get you to the car,” he said, his hand finding the small of my back, guiding me toward the black sedan waiting ominously outside the harbor cove apartment. The sun glinted off its polished surface, an illusion of peace in a day that was anything but tranquil.

The world outside the Harbor Cove apartment had always felt like a sanctuary, until it wasn’t. As Dante and I approached the car, my senses, usually dulled by the serenity of the sea breeze, snapped to attention at the sharp crack of shattering glass. My head whipped around, scanning for the source, just in time to see silhouettes—men in masks—materializing from the edges of our vision.

“Get down!” Dante’s command came in a fierce whisper, his hand firm on my shoulder as he shoved me towards the ground, an instinctive move that folded space into a blur of motion.

The thud of my body hitting the pavement was lost in the chaos of footsteps and grunts. I could barely make out Dante’s shape as he positioned himself between me and the attackers, his presence a shield against the unknown threat that dared to intrude upon our fleeting moment of peace.

“Stay behind me!” he growled, his voice a low vibration under the clatter of closing danger. I could feel the urgency pulsing off him in waves, even as my mind struggled to process the swift transition from calm to combat.

I pressed my palms against the cool concrete, the rough texture grounding me while Dante’s silhouette danced violently with those of our assailants. The glint of metal flashed in the sunlight, weapons brandished with lethal intent, and a new kind of fear gripped me—one that came with the possibility of losing more than just my freedom or research.

Pavement bit into my palms, icy against the adrenaline-warmth of my skin. Dante was a blur of motion, dodging and weaving with a precision that belied the chaos unfurling around us. I watched—fascinated despite the terror—as he countered each attack, his body a weapon honed by years in the shadows of his family’s dark empire.

“Jade, now!” His command cut through the haze of fear.

His hand clamped around mine, calloused and unyielding. With a yank that sent my heart into my throat, he hauled me to my feet. There was no room for hesitation; Dante’s grip on my hand was an anchor in the storm, a lifeline pulling me towards the promise of safety—the car.

“Jade, get in now!” Dante’s voice was a sharp command that cut through the chaos.

I lurched toward the open car door, my hands shaking so violently I could barely grasp the handle. The leather seat felt alien against the pandemonium of my racing heart as I threw myself inside. My fingers stumbled over the seatbelt, the simple action maddeningly complex as fear slicked my palms.

“Come on, Jade,” I muttered under my breath, willing my trembling hands to work. With a click, the seatbelt locked into place, a small victory amidst the encroaching peril.

Dante slammed the door shut, the sound merging with my own ragged breaths. His gaze was a sweep of the area, quick and efficient, before locking onto mine with an intensity that almost made me forget the peril we were in.

“Jade, if anything happens—“ he started.

“Nothing’s going to happen,” I cut him off, more for my own sake than his. My voice was a whisper of defiance against the fear.

A nod was his only reply as he twisted the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life, a growl that seemed to rise above the chaos unfolding outside. Dante’s hands gripped the steering wheel, every muscle coiled like a spring, ready to unleash the full force of his will upon the gas pedal.

The tires screeched, a harsh cry against the cold pavement, and for a moment, the world outside blurred into streaks of color and light.

“Hang on,” Dante said, the corner of his mouth lifting in a grim half-smile that didn’t reach his eyes. I could see his jaw working, the subtle clench that betrayed his tension.

I clutched the seat, my mind reeling. With every turn, it felt like we were threading the needle between fate and fortune, Dante’s driving nothing short of a desperate ballet. It was reckless; it was necessary. And it was so very Dante—unyielding, audacious, and terrifyingly competent.

The rearview mirror framed the terror in snapshots – headlights bearing down on us, the glare harsh against the winter gloom. My fingers were vices around the leather of the passenger seat, the material flexing beneath my grip. Dante’s silhouette was a study in control, every shift and turn an answer to the chaos in our wake.

“Keep your head down,” he ordered, the timbre of his voice a stark command amidst the mayhem. I complied without thought, ducking as another vehicle swung into view, its intent as clear as the cold bite of the air that had rushed in earlier.

My breaths stuttered out in rapid succession, each one catching slightly as if my lungs were struggling to keep pace with the pulsing fear that gripped me. But despite the terror, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the relentless pursuit mirrored behind us.

“Damn it,” Dante muttered, his focus never wavering even as the car lurched forward, urging more speed from the engine. I could feel the raw power of the vehicle, a beast unleashed by Dante’s hands, thrumming through the floor beneath my feet.

The chassis groaned as Dante’s foot slammed down on the accelerator, the engine’s roar a gritty soundtrack to our escape. We whipped around a corner, tires screeching in protest, the city blurring past us in a dizzying whirl of grey concrete and frost-tipped buildings.

“Damn it!” I gasped, bracing myself against the dashboard. Each swerve felt like a dance move I hadn’t learned, my body thrown this way and that. But Dante was fluid, an extension of the machine he commanded with such ferocious expertise.

“Jade, just keep your head down!” His voice was sharp, cutting through the chaos.

I obeyed without thought, shrinking lower into my seat as we plunged down an alley so narrow I could almost touch the walls reaching out to us like cold fingers.

“We need to get to the highway,” Dante said, his voice a gravelly murmur over the engine’s growl. His gaze flickered to the rear-view mirror, and for a moment, I saw something there—a spark of worry before his features hardened once more into that mask of steely determination.

A siren wailed in the distance, growing louder with each heart-stopping second. Red and blue lights strobed through the alleyway, casting horrific shadows that danced like specters in Dante’s wake.

I shot him a panicked look. “The police—“

Dante just grunted, throwing the car into another violent turn that slammed me against my door. “Their problem, not ours.”

Buildings flashed by in a dizzying blur as we rocketed towards the outskirts of Harbor Cove. The quaint seaside town had transformed into a surreal nightmare, its serene landscape now a terrifying maze of close calls and near misses.

“I’ve got this, Jade,” Dante said, his voice carrying a semblance of calm that seemed incongruous with our wild flight. I nodded, swallowing hard against the knot in my throat. The facades of the city buildings fell away, replaced by the darkness of the underpass as we hurtled toward it.

“Brace yourself,” Dante warned, his grip tightening on the wheel as he swerved to avoid an oncoming car. The impact was inevitable—a metallic shriek filled the air as our car careened off the concrete divider and back onto our lane.

I gasped, my body jolting from the shock. My heart pounded mercilessly in my chest, threatening to burst from its cage. But Dante’s voice was a grounding presence amidst the chaos—a touchstone clinging me back to reality.

“We’re okay,” he said, his tone short but assured as if reaffirming it more for himself than me. In that moment, I found myself drawn to his strength—a beacon in a storm I didn’t quite understand.

“Where are they?” I asked. “Are they still following us?”

Dante’s answer was a curt shake of his head as he cast a glance at the rearview mirror. “We’ve lost them, for now,” he said. His voice carried traces of relief, but there was an underlying edge—a primal wariness that told me our ordeal was far from over.

The lights of New York City loomed ahead, a glittering jungle of steel and glass cutting through the winter gloom. The skyline was a paradox—a symbol of civilization and yet a reminder of the darkness that lurked beneath its surface.

“We need to disappear,” Dante muttered, more to himself than me. “Blend in.”

“So what are we doing?”

He thought about it for a second. “Fuck it. I’m taking you home.”