Page 22

Rachel

Doc arrived not long after, wanting to take a look at Dante’s wounds, putting an end to any further conversation. Which suited me fine, because I was no longer able to plaster a fake smile on.

Doc and Dante pretty much ignored me whilst they checked out Dante’s wounds, and honestly, I was grateful for it.

As nice as Dante was being, history told me that we didn’t have long before we fell into yet another argument. We seemed incapable of keeping the peace even when we were surrounded by calm, so we certainly had no chance in the middle of this chaos.

It also didn’t help that we were both too stubborn for our own good – someone had to admit it, it may as well be me. Had I voiced some of the concerns I had, especially after the talk we had just had, it definitely would have led to an argument.

The club life was dangerous. I knew it as surely as I knew the sky was blue.

You couldn’t run this kind of gang and not be living a dangerous way of life.

Enemies, betrayal, hell, even just the risk of driving at the speeds they did was dangerous.

And everything just seemed to be coming to a head.

There was never any time to breathe before the next catastrophe happened.

I had been here long enough to know that these people – Macbeth not included – would lay down their life to protect their brothers, or their brother’s family. And that included me, too. The camaraderie here was unlike anything I had ever known before, and that was the one redeeming factor for me.

The question was, was it enough, and did I feel protected enough to stay here?

And that was a question I didn’t have an answer to. I guess none of us truly knew, because none of us could predict what the future held. I just had to have a show of faith and place my trust in Dante and the club .

Dante would protect me with his life. Of that, I had no doubt. But that wasn’t reassuring, either. Because without him here, I had no place. I didn’t want to be the widowed old lady – if old ladies even called themselves widows, I had no fucking idea.

And then there was the niggling voice in my mind that was screaming at me that I had already tasted the fear of Dante possibly dying, and it hurt me on a level I hadn’t realised I felt towards him. I couldn’t remain here if he wasn’t around.

I’d sooner leave here and suffer the pain of a breakup. Dante wouldn’t have to worry about my safety if I wasn’t here. It was a much more preferable option than suffering the pain of his death. One was far more permanent than the other.

You’re getting ahead of yourself. Dante isn’t going to fucking die!

But someone was. I could feel it in my bones. There was an evil foreboding in the air.

It felt like I was being cloaked in darkness, yet no one else could see it. The icy claws of death were wrapping around us, suffocating me constantly, and I seemed to be the only one affected by it.

I had always trusted my intuition, and I wasn’t about to start doubting myself now. There were worse times ahead, and if no one else was willing to prepare for it, I’d have to do it myself.

When Doc was done, I helped Dante into the shower and washed away the blood that caked his skin and cleaned the sheets as he redressed his wounds.

I gave him a sympathetic glance when I saw that his wounds had reopened, and offered to help him, knowing that I was partially to blame for giving in and allowing myself to have sex with him yet again.

He gave me a small kiss on my forehead and declined, but I saw the strain in his face and knew he was struggling.

Told you. We’re both too stubborn.

Wanting to give him some privacy, I left for my own room, although before I left, I made him swear to stay in his own bed for the rest of the night and get some sleep. Lord knew we both needed it.

Despite his promise, I felt my bed dip an hour later, and two strong, muscled, tattooed arms wrapped around me and pulled me close.

I didn’t bother arguing with him; I knew he wasn’t going to let me go.

And if I’m honest, I didn’t want him to let me go, either.

After the day I had, I needed him close.

And tired, sleepy Dante and Rachel were the safest moods we had – not that an argument was impossible where we were concerned, but it was less likely.

I was able to be a bit more honest with myself when I was in this safe zone, and all I wanted was Dante close.

I soon fell into a blissful, dreamless sleep, which was exactly what my body needed.

Something inside me had shifted as far as Dante was concerned. I knew I was falling for him, and fuck if that wasn’t the most annoying thing in the world.

I didn’t want to feel anything for him. I wanted to go back to being Robot Rachel. Unfeeling Rachel. A clear-headed Rachel. One that could make decisions without worrying about how it would impact others.

Those days were gone.

Dante had worked his way into my system, and now he was in there, there was no removing him. I don’t know when it happened, and I wasn’t going to bother trying to figure it out, either. The thought of losing him had made my feelings crystal clear, and I just had to find a way to cope with them.

When I woke in the morning, Dante was still fast asleep, so I took the moment’s peace to check the stab wound on his back, clean up the blood that had oozed out in the night, and jumped in a quick shower before he came in disturbing me.

When I came out, he was sitting up in bed smoking.

“Make yourself at home,” I snapped, gesturing to the cigarette.

“This is my home,” he bit back.

“And it’s mine, too. Is a bit of privacy too much to ask?”

He lifted one shoulder, “I didn’t join you in the shower, did I? How much more privacy do you want?”

I shook my head, ignoring the images that flashed in my mind of Dante in the shower.

Wishful thinking.

I was becoming no better than a man.

“That’s a disgusting habit,” I snapped, looking for any way to distract myself from my own thoughts.

He raised his shoulder yet again, causing me to grit my teeth. “So is murdering people, yet you’ve offed two people so far. ”

I widened my eyes, a scoff of disbelief leaving my throat. “Wow. That escalated quickly. Do you want to be the third?”

“Depends,” he smirked. “Are you going to take that towel off and be naked whilst you do it?”

“This towel?” I said, grabbing the bottom and twirling it slightly. “It’s possible. It would make a great noose, wouldn’t it?”

“It’s hard to say. Take it off and see. You never know until you try.”

“Nice try,” I grinned. “But we have plans for today.”

“I know,” he frowned at me. “And I’m trying to get those plans kick-started, but you’re playing hard to get for some bizarre reason.”

“You realise you’re injured, right?”

“You realise they’re not your injuries, right?” He mimicked.

“Unflattering impression, but I’ll be the bigger person and choose to ignore it.”

“Makes a change.”

“You remember said injuries opened up after our last roll in the hay. I’d rather not risk it again, thanks.”

“And I rather would. I decide what I’m allowed to do with injuries. So, drop the towel and get over here.”

“I’m allowed to say no to your advances, Dante.”

“Sure, you are. And I’m allowed to call your bluff and say you’re absolutely full of shit. You’re gagging for it, and I guarantee if I pulled that towel off myself and slipped my hand between your legs, you’d be as wet as ever.”

“Irrelevant,” I said, brushing him off with a wave of my hand and ignoring the way my thighs had clenched at his words. “If you could get your brain out of your dick for a second, we have plans.”

“Again, I know. We’re going around in circles here, Rachel. Towel,” he said, pointing at the cloth, and then at the floor.

“No. Not your type of plans. My plans.”

“And what are your plans?” He said, his eyes never leaving me as I began to walk around the room and gather what I needed.

“We’re going to surprise Bee with a day out. Just like you talked about last night. ”

“We are?” He said, still following me. “Could you stay still for a second? You do remember I was hit around the head yesterday? You’re making me dizzy.”

“Oh, so now your injuries are important, are they?” I grinned at him.

“Just stay still.”

“No. Because if I stop, I’ll never get going again.

And to answer your earlier question, yes, we are going out with Bee today.

Because I know what will happen if we don’t.

We’ll say we’re going to do it, then something will come up.

Macbeth will come back, or you’ll get called to church, or there will be some other club business that takes priority.

We’re going to do it now. We can take my mother home on the way. ”

He groaned. “For fuck’s sake. I got up early for this.”

“You have a problem with my mother?”

He rubbed a tired hand over his face. “I burnt her fucking home to the ground, Rachel. She has a problem with me, and she doesn’t mind fucking voicing it, either.”

“You brought her back into our lives,” I replied in a sing-song voice.

“Yeah, because I stupidly wanted to make you happy. Fuck knows why.”

“Because you’re obsessed with me.”

“Nah, doubtful.”

“Because my happiness is important to you.”

He pulled a face and raised his hand, tipping it from side to side, “eh. So, so.”

“Charming. You can admit it, you know? It won’t hurt you.”

“I’m beginning to rethink the whole thing, to be honest. It seems more hassle than it’s worth.”

“You’re not a morning person, are you?” I said with a small laugh.

“No. And neither are you, usually. I once woke you up early, and you told me if I ever dared step foot in your bedroom before eleven again, you’d stab me in the heart and let Monster feed my bollocks to the dogs.”

“I stand by that. But you didn’t issue a similar warning, so that’s on you. Now come on, up!”