Page 62

Rachel

If he made the joke, so help me God, I would kill him. I could tell by the childish grin on his ridiculous fucking mouth just exactly what he was thinking: “My cock is a deathtrap,” har har fucking har.

I would gut him right here, right now, and I’d play skipping rope with his intestines if he even so much as dared. I was in no mood for stupid jokes.

“The bike’s all I’ve got, Rachel,” he said with a shrug. “Unless you’d prefer to walk…”

“Fine,” I snapped, walking to the car park, immediately spotting the huge monstrosity he was so in love with.

Funny, I didn’t know his mother was here.

Now that was a good fucking joke. I should share it with him since he’s in such a jolly fucking mood.

I was in a bratty mood, and I knew it. Nothing Dante could say was going to make any difference. If he said right, I was going to fight to go left. If he told me not to jump off a cliff, I was going to go right ahead and do it, just to piss him off.

And then I’d haunt him all the way through my afterlife, so he never knew a moment’s peace until he joined me in death. And then I’d annoy him until the end of time.

I was still bothered about him not visiting me the other day.

So much so I had banned all other visitors for the rest of my stay.

A part of me felt bad about that, thinking maybe Bee had wanted to visit, but I couldn’t just ban Dante alone.

I couldn’t let him know he was under my skin and affecting me to the point I had to lash out.

So I banned everyone, and if he asked, I would just tell him it was because I couldn’t stand the fucking lot of them. It was difficult enough dealing with them when I was okay. I didn’t want anything to do with the cunts when my head was throbbing and being held together by bastard string.

It wasn’t a massive lie.

I stayed silent as Dante pulled two helmets out and ignored the sting as he pushed it down on my head.

“Sorry,” he said, and all I could think was, “my God, he’s good. He actually looked apologetic.”

Probably worried I’d get blood all over his fancy fucking helmet.

He clasped the safety buckle under my chin, his fingers soft and gentle as they lingered against my skin for a moment, leaving a tingling sensation wherever they touched.

Hormones. A girl’s worst enemy.

“I’ll drive as steady as I can,” he promised as we climbed onto his bike. I shuffled close to him, wrapping myself around his back. I heard his sharp intake of breath as my tits pressed against him, but I ignored it.

“Just get me home, Dante. The sooner the better. I want a bath, a warm meal, and my bed. In that order. And I want it alone.”

I glanced at the bed and then at Dante, my brow arching in a silent question.

“Mum and Bee went out last night and got you everything they thought you would need. That woman you were staying with in America has sent your belongings, and they should be here by the weekend, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to have a few extra bits.”

“You’ve spoken to her?”

“Macbeth has. He said it’s all arranged.”

I looked at the dresses and leggings, none of them in my style.

I preferred dark colours and closer fitting clothes.

All of these were bright, flowy, girly things, and I knew for certain it was Bee’s influence.

His mother would have brought home a black bag of potato sacks and told me to make the best of them.

I couldn’t hate the clothes when it was Bee that chose them. I did, however, hate the fact that I had needed clothes for days on end, and the only reason Dante had bought them for me was because he felt sorry for me.

He could have done this at any time. Hell, he could have given me his credit card and I could have done this myself. If he was feeling particularly cheeky, he could have taken me shopping himself and made me do a strip show for him every time I tried an outfit on. I probably would have done it.

But he chose not to. He was perfectly happy to keep me in filthy clothes. Clothes that had blood on them. Clothes that stunk of smoke. Yet he hadn’t wanted to sleep in bed because of a bit of smoke.

“Great, thanks,” I said, my voice devoid of emotion.

“Do you like them?”

“They’re fine.”

“We can take back anything you don’t like—”

“Dante, I’m currently dressed as though I’m on day release from the fucking circus. The clothes are fine. I will deal with it. Just like I deal with everything else,” I muttered under my breath. If Dante heard me, he didn’t show it.

“Bee wants to know if you would like to share a McDonald's with her tonight?”

“And where will you be?” I questioned, my warning radar blinking rapidly.

His lips twisted apologetically. “I have to go out.”

Ahh. There it was.

“Of course you do. The radar never fails.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re excused,” I said, pushing the clothes off the bed and climbing beneath the sheets. “Tell Bee I would love a McDonalds. You guys get UberEats here?”

“Why wouldn’t we?”

“Shark told me about the pizza incident. I thought maybe you were blacklisted.”

“I… He… yes,” he said finally.

“Great. Tell your mother to send her up in an hour or two and we’ll order. Leave your card.”

“Bee has the UberEats account details.”

“Even better.” I gave a fake smile and turned over, pulling the covers up to my chin and presented him with my back.

“Rachel—”

“I’m fine, Dante. Enjoy your evening out.”

I willed him to leave as my chin wobbled. Ridiculous tears sprung to my eyes, and I frantically wiped them away with a clenched fist, hoping Dante didn’t see.

Tears don’t make you weak, Rachel. Cry tonight and come back fighting tomorrow. You’re allowed to feel, it's not a crime.

I certainly felt fucking weak right now. I was crying because the sexy biker didn’t want to spend time with me. How pathetic was that?

You’ve been through a lot. Be gentle with yourself. Be kind. You’re the only one who will be.

That much was true.

I was crying angry tears. Frustrated tears. Sad tears.

Why had Dante ripped me away from my small, comfortable life? Why had he taken everything away from me when he couldn’t stand to be in my company?

What was the fucking point?

“Let me explain to you. Let me tell you where I’m going—”

“You don’t owe me an explanation, Dante. You don’t owe me anything. In fact, I think it would be better the less we said to each other. It never ends well. Enjoy your evening,” I repeated.

Dante sighed, but he didn’t argue. I heard his footsteps walk to the other side of the room, and the minute I heard the click of the door, I opened the floodgates and let my emotions wash over me.

I would be back to being a robot tomorrow.

Tonight? Tonight I needed to cry.