Page 22

Rachel

I hurried to get dressed – not because I wanted to please Dante. The guy could use a cactus as a suppository as far as I was concerned. But rather because I was quite looking forward to meeting the offspring of such a man.

I realised from a young age that I wasn’t the most pleasant woman on this planet, but I had always done well with children.

If she was someone for me to pass time with whilst I planned my great escape, then I wasn’t going to complain.

However, I had already promised myself that I wouldn’t bond with her.

I wouldn’t grow attached. I had grown attached to Joseph in the three years I had cared for him.

Of course I fucking had. You’d have to be made of stone not to.

I spent more time with him than his parents did.

I knew everything about him. I knew what blanket he needed to have at bedtime.

I knew what his favourite foods were, and which foods you needed to sneak into his meals without him knowing.

I knew his favourite book, colour, animal.

I knew that little spot below his ribs where he was the most ticklish.

I loved that little guy, and in the blink of an eye, I was taken away from him without being able to say a proper goodbye.

I refuse to give Dante that power over me.

If he saw me falling in love with Bee, of having that instinct to care for and nurture her as though she were my own, he’d use it as a weapon.

I would never allow myself to form an attachment with anyone in his life, because it was all too easy for him to change the playing field and take me away from anything familiar.

Plus, besides wanting to meet Bee, I needed to put that fucking mother of his in her place. No woman was going to call me a skank and get away with it without a small tongue lashing.

I could hear my mother in my head; “don’t let words hurt you, Rachel.” She had always said that, because I was always determined to silence the insults. She thought I should let it run off me like water off a duck’s back.

It’s not that I was hurt by what they were saying. The point wasn’t whether I was hurt or not. They said these things to be cruel, to try to hurt me. Their intention was to wound. And whether I let that happen or not, they deserved to be punished for their intentions alone.

So I threw on the hideous jeans and chequered shirt she threw at my feet and jogged down the stairs, making sure to fan my hair out as I did so, massaging my fingers into the roots to give it some volume.

The stairs led directly to the archway leading to the bar, and around the corner seemed to be the living area, which no one had bothered to give me the guided tour of so far. I was contemplating exploring myself when Dante caught sight of me and barked my name.

With a sigh, I followed his voice into the bar and saw them all sat around one of the larger tables.

By all, I meant Macbeth, what I assumed was his dad, Crash, and his beast of a mother, Big Mama. There was also a lovely looking young girl that had enough of Dante’s features for me to know she was his daughter.

“You barked, my lord,” I mumbled as I reluctantly made my way over. Amy – Bee – had the biggest smile on her face. Macbeth was grinning at Dante’s fierce scowl, and Mama was curling her upper lip at me. Crash hadn’t even looked up from his toast.

“Sit down, Rachel, and stop acting like you’re in a fucking circus every time you move. You’re the most desperate for attention woman I’ve ever known!”

“It’s almost as if you’ve known me longer than a day to make such an assessment!”

“Sit,” he barked again, kicking out the chair next to him.

“Ask me nicely,” I responded, kicking the chair back under the table.

“Just do as you’re told. I want to eat.”

“I’ll do as I’m asked, when I’m asked nicely .”

We locked eyes, both of us glaring at the other.

“Daddy, just ask her to sit down. It’s polite,” Bee said, nudging Dante with her elbow.

“Listen to your daughter,” I said, my eyes still locked on his. “Ask me nicely, Daddy. ”

A small growl came from Dante’s throat.

“Ask her nicely, Daddy!” Macbeth grinned from the other side of the table, looking back and forth between the two of us as though he was having the time of his life.

“Don’t waste your time, girl. He won’t ask,” Dante’s father said. “Sit yourself down and get some breakfast in you.”

“My stubbornness surpasses my hunger.” I said back, still not stopping the eye contact war I was locked in to.

“So starve then.” Dante shrugged.

“Well, there’s no need to go to that extreme,” I responded, reaching over the table to grab a slice of toast. “Mmm!” I murmured, taking the biggest bite possible. “Tastes as sweet as victory.”

“You know what else tastes sweet?” He said, bringing his fingers to his mouth again.

I felt my cheeks flame, the toast I had been about to bite forgotten as my mouth fell open.

He sucked the tips of his fingers, his tongue coming out ever so slightly.

I sucked in a sharp breath, my thighs clenching together.

To anyone else, it looked like he was removing crumbs, but we both knew.

“What’s tastes sweet, Dante?” I said, clearing my throat, hoping it didn’t scream my desire. “It’s certainly not victory. You’ve yet to have one.”

“You’re acting like an immature brat; did you know that? Act your age.” But he smiled up at me. A smile I didn’t return.

“Huh, almost as if you know my age as well. You’re on a roll this morning.”

“What sort of example are you setting for Bee?”

“Well,” I said, chewing my bite of food and shaking the image of him licking his fingers from my mind.

“For one, I’m teaching her not to allow men to bully her.

Two, I’m teaching her that there’s always an alternative to your demands.

And three… Well, three is really more the example you should be setting, but I guess I’m a part of it.

Don’t rely on strangers to teach her how to behave. Did I cover everything?”

I pulled the chair back out myself and threw myself down on it.

“Oh, four, understand when your opponent knows he’s met his match, and can only win by threatening looks and being stubborn.

Sometimes,” I said, lowering my voice as I turned to Bee with a grin.

“Being the bigger person makes these giants look so petty and small that even giving in to their demands makes you the victor. Whew!” I exhaled, looking at everyone around the table.

“That was quite the educational lesson. What’s for breakfast?

The hospitality here sucks, and I’m starved.

” I leant forward and grabbed a sausage off Macbeth’s plate and took a huge bite. “Cheers.”