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Dante

“It turned out lovely, didn’t it?” I said, leaning against the door frame as I watched Rachel twist in the mirror to inspect her tattoo.

She had taken herself straight home when the tattoo was finished and hadn’t left her room all night.

At least, I thought she hadn’t left her room. I went to bed and noticed she had slashed all my pillows to pieces, feathers covering my room. She had smashed the mirror, stomped on the clock face, and stabbed a helmet through the face guard, right where my eyes would have been.

I didn’t even bother commenting on her temper tantrum. I had simply turned around, walked straight to her room, and climbed into bed next to her.

She tried to push me out to start with, and when she realised I wasn’t budging, she shuffled away from me.

I followed her; she shuffled some more. Eventually, she shuffled so far; she ended up falling off the edge of the bed.

After slapping me in the face with her pillow, she had stormed to the bathroom and slept in the bath.

I had laughed so hard, I genuinely thought I was going to strain something or give myself a hernia. I had laughed even harder this morning when I had walked into the bathroom bright and early, flicked the light on, blinding her with the fluorescent bulb, and snapped a picture of her on my phone.

I went straight to the study and printed the picture out and pinned it to the toast I sent up with Bee to take to her.

“It looks awful,” she said flatly.

“It’s healing. If you hadn’t thrown yourself around in bed last night, it wouldn’t have rubbed so much.”

“I’ll fucking throw you around,” she muttered under her breath.

“What was that?” I asked pleasantly.

“Do you know what? I’m sick of this. You’re a fucking cunt, Dante.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“No, I don’t think you do know. I don’t think you understand how wrong this was.”

“So kidnapping Ben and torturing him for you was perfectly okay, but a tattoo is too far?” I snapped, feeling my anger growing, the same as it always did when I was around her.

She threw a nasty glance at me. “Don’t pretend you did that for me.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard.”

“Who else would I have done it for?”

“The same reason you do anything. You do it for yourself. You said it yourself. You’re a selfish bastard.”

“I’m failing to see what interest I would have in beating a nobody like Ben, if not to protect you.”

“Protect me from what?” She finally snapped. “Ben hadn’t been near me in years. You didn’t protect me from anything! It had already happened! You did it for yourself!”

“You’ve obviously decided to start another argument today. So go on,” I said dryly. “Tell me what crime you think I’ve committed.”

“As if you don’t know.”

“Clearly I don’t.”

“No, clearly you’re a better liar than I thought.”

“I really don’t have time for this. Macbeth wants me to meet him in ten minutes. Can you just spit it out?”

“Answer me this: Do you, or do you not have plans to expand?”

“Eventually…” I said, eyeing her with suspicion. A light of anger flared in her eyes. But for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why.

“And do you, or do you not, plan on using Ben’s club?”

“I can make use of it. Why are you asking this?”

“And what about the others?” She snapped, ignoring my question.

“What others?”

“You know what others. The other groomers, the other rapists, the other recruiters, the other abusers. The others !” She hissed at me.

“They’ll be dealt with.”

“You mean recruited?”

“Excuse me?” My head flew back in shock.

“And who else will you be sending there? Because I know damn well, the people here are not the only members of your club.”

“They’re not,” I nodded. “I never said they were. I told you we had members up and down the country. Different branches, but they’re all part of the Devil’s Disciples.”

“So, who will you be sending there? Don’t answer, I can guess. You’ll be sending like-minded people, am I right?”

“You think I would have rapists in my club?”

“You tell me, because you’re sending them to a rapist's house. Everyone knows what goes on there, Dante. It's just no one talks about it. It’s whispered about, and people know to avoid it. Now you’re the one who is going to be whispered about.”

“Nothing new there, then.”

“Do you think this is fucking funny?”

“Am I laughing?” I growled at her.

“You’re mocking me!” She shouted. “Do you seriously think I’m going to live with a man who lives like that? Who not only supports that place, but sends his men to live there. What is it, Dante? Are they going to be the new recruiters?”

That did it.

I marched forward and grabbed hold of her, shaking her small frame until her teeth rattled. “Is that what you really think—”

“Not think, know ! I’ve heard all about it! Why didn’t you kill Ben? Is it because you were hoping he’d give you everything if you pushed him enough? How convenient I came and finished the job for you. I made myself the perfect little scapegoat!”

Her words shouldn’t hurt. I always knew she didn’t have a high opinion of me. But for some reason, they cut me sharper than the knife she had stabbed me with our first night together.

“Is that really how little you think of me?”

“Have you ever given me a reason to think otherwise?”

“I only came up here to tell you your mother is downstairs. And believe it or not, I knew you were going to lash out. I knew you were going to be a brat because of the tattoo. But this? This is disgusting. Pack your shit and leave with your mother. I’m fucking done.

Think what you want of me, but I won’t be labelled a fucking rapist and child abuser. ”

“No, you would never be labelled that. You’re just an enabler,” she said coldly, her eyes full of hatred.

“Go see your mother, Rachel,” I said, barely recognising my cold voice. “Go with her before I do something I fucking regret.”

I walked away from her.

For good.