Sick Bastard (22 page)

London

“Jesus Christ, Dante! Y-
you
have to… no, you
need
to stop doing this.” I huff and puff.

“In through your nose and out through your mouth,” he coaches me softly.

“Fuck you!” I spit through clenched teeth.

“Only if you’ll ask me nicely.” He counters effortlessly.

The twisted bastard is smiling, an ear-to-ear smile with dimples and perfect white teeth. He’s enjoying this. There’s something seriously wrong with him, but all my stupid, traitorous fucking heart can focus on is how much happier it is now that’s he’s here. What a traitorous piece of shit. I would have it removed if I could live without it, that’s for sure. “I told you to leave me the hell alone.” Jerking the towel off of the hook, I elbow check my way around him on my way out of the shower. “Excuse me,” I grumble at the smiling Dante. His eyes take a leisurely trip up and down my naked body. Fucking pervert. Hope he gets a good look ‘cause he’s never touching it again.

“You’re beautiful, baby.”

“Don’t.” I warn him. He’s not skating around this. What is wrong with this man? Did his mom use drugs while pregnant?

I can’t believe he’s in here
again
. I should’ve known he’d just pop by for a friendly, albeit, creepy visit.

I’m beyond wondering how. It’s only obvious he’s breaking in or being let in. I’m calling and complaining to the building management about this shit. I’m fucking over it. I can’t even feel safe in my own home anymore. “Why are you here?” I know he’s been snooping. Why wouldn’t he?

“I came to see you.” Fucking liar. Does he speak anything other than lies?

“No you didn’t.”

“I didn’t?” He counters, leaning coolly against my bathroom door like he’s welcome here.

“I don’t think you and I are going to work out, in case you didn’t get that hint the last time we saw each other.” I tell him plainly. It’s the truth, but it’s a painful truth. The stalking, the lies, the secrets, the aggression, and the creeping; it’s all too much. All of these things are him as a whole, and that’s too much for me to take on.

“I would agree.” He would? Great, this can finally be the beginning of the end. “You’re right, we aren’t going to work. We’ll most definitely ruin one another, but that is exactly why we should do this. This thing between us is too strong not to. We don’t work, we explode.” He can’t be serious.

“Are you high?” It’s a valid observation. There’s no other explanation for the shit that’s spewing out of his mouth. This isn’t the way he talks.

“No, are you?”

“I wish,” I mumble under my breath. It might make this a little easier. “Dante…” He stops me before I even start.

“London, whatever the fuck this is, it’s something I can’t explain. You’re not someone I would’ve pursued because I wasn’t looking for anyone, but whatever the hell it is that keeps me coming back for more is something strong enough to keep me fighting for it. It’s not just that I can’t let it go, it’s that I don’t want to. You’re what I never thought I’d ever need, but then I met you, and now I can’t imagine anyone but you in my life.”

“Try harder,” I mutter. He can’t be this goddamn interested in me. He just admitted that he wouldn’t have given me a second look, so why?

He follows me to my closet, but stands across the room. His whole demeanor looks like he’s uncomfortable and uncertain.

“I’ve tried,” he sighs tiredly. “Believe me when I tell you I’ve tried to kick you, but you are something I
need.
Whatever it is, you feed it. No one but you can, or ever has. I can’t walk away. You should know me enough to know I have to see this through. I can’t give it up. If I do, it’ll fucking eat at me ‘til it kills me.”

“I’d like to kill you.” I grumble under my breath, but to be honest, I couldn’t agree more. I shouldn’t want him, but I completely get it and understand it. There’s just something about him I don’t wanna give up, either. I’m sure over time I would get past it, but I would never be over it unless I let it play out the way it’s meant to. “I probably should kill you and save us both the hassle from the mess we’ll create.” I say seriously.

“I know, and things may not turn out well for us, but I’m willing to risk it.” We’re both quiet, both contemplating what the other is saying.

“You should probably go now. I need time to think about this. I can’t tell you that this will continue, so I want you to know that up front, but I’m willing to give it some serious thought.”

He’s on me before I can stop him. His large hands cup my face gently, urging me to look up at him. “No.” He growls, brushing his lips against mine. Flicking his tongue across my bottom lip I try to suck in the air he steals from me.

“Yes.” I breathe.

Biting down, he runs his teeth along my lip. “Don’t argue.” His lips crash against mine. Soft, rough, teeth, he devours me with only a kiss.

He suddenly pulls away, leaving me swaying. What just happened? Sucking in a breath, I back away, “Don’t do that again. I said I need time, so please give that to me.” With one stiff nod he turns and leaves, but not without the final word.

“I won’t wait long, London. I won’t.”

~~~~~~

“Where is it?” A shoe sails past my head, hitting the wall with a thud.

“Matt?” I call. Another shoe passes me, followed by a pillow.

“How the fuck did I lose it?” He yells. Sitting on his bed, I wait patiently for him to calm the fuck down. How did I end up with two men who drive me crazy?

“Matt!” And there goes a t-shirt. Jesus Christ, he’s as dense as … Dante. I miss him and I hate that I do. It’s been three days since he broke in and I miss his stalking ass already. I’m a mess.

“Matt,” I all but scream at him.

“What?” Holding up the square blue little booklet, I wave it around, getting his attention.

“I have your fucking passport.”

“Why didn’t you just say that?” Men.

Standing in the hallway, I wait for crazy to get ready. “Passports? Money and cards?” He asks. I pat my purse. “Shoes? Underwear? Toothbrush?” I roll my eyes. I have no idea why he’s worried about me when he’ll be the one who forgets something.

“Come on, you drama queen.” I grab onto his arm and drag him out the door, into the car, and to the airport.

“It’s been far too long since we’ve visited London,” Matt drawls in a terrible British accent.

“Matt, your accent is offensive and shitty.” Giving me a nasty glare, he picks up his wine glass, pinky out, and throws it back like a two dollar shot, then waves his empty glass around for the flight attendant.

“I love flying private.” He carries on with his ridiculous accent. I’m sure he does, but I’m not going to lie because I like it too.

This was a graduation gift from my grandfather and boy did it come at the perfect time. I aced all my finals and I need this vacation. I need a break. I need time to breathe and think about my life without Dante hovering in every fucking corner, whether in my mind or just in my fucking space. Do I want to play ignorant and turn a blind eye to whatever he’s keeping from me? Is he really a bad person, or does he do these things to protect what’s his? I can’t imagine that he has a lot of friends in his line of work. He takes peoples livelihoods and rips them to shreds. He’s got to have more enemies than anyone could imagine. He’s getting rich while others are suffering. He’s like the devil himself.

~~~~~~

“Any jet leg this mornin’, Pippy?” Cheery Matt asks as he flips one of my braids over my shoulder.

“Nope.” Plopping down on a barstool, I watch him whisk something that better be of the waffle variety. I slept like a baby last night. We came here right from the plane and passed out.

“I’m thinking shopping this afternoon, followed by drinks?” Like he’s got to ask me that question.

Fifteen stores, nine dressing rooms, and a few miles later, we’re at one of my favorite stores,
YSL.
“Ew, that one makes your tits look like bananas.” Seriously? How does that happen exactly?

“You could just say pass.”

“What’s the fun in playing fashion judge and jury if I can’t make rude comments on terribly designed clothes?”

We’ve worn the strips off of my credit cards, and if I don’t get some food inside of me real soon, I might strangle Matt with those leather pants he’s insistent on getting. “I need food now!” I tell him, jerking him toward the exit.

Walking around Mayfair arm in arm, I marvel at the busy streets and sidewalks. The noise is a comfort. Cabbies honk, sports cars rev their engines as they zip by, and luxury vehicles weave in and out of traffic gracefully. I love the city.

Rounding the corner to our favorite pub, I drag Matt inside with me. Walking through the place, I find my favorite table tucked into a corner against the large window that overlooks the busy street.

“Mary!” I gush. She’s my favorite waitress here.

She rushes over and hugs me tightly, “How long has it been?”

“Close to a year, I believe.”

“Well it’s good to see your face.”

“Yours too.”

“How long are you home for?” I miss this being home.

“I’m not sure. Right now we’re taking a vacation. I graduated and this was my gift.”

“Well if you’re around for a while, we should catch up.”

“Drinks!” Matt cheers. Settling into my seat, I smile at my overly enthusiastic friend. I’m home again with my best friend at our favorite pub, and any time Dante enters my thoughts, I drown them with more drinks. “Matt, hand me another shot.”

~~~~~~

“You know we didn’t need to buy four loaves of bread,” I puff and wheeze down the sidewalk. The early morning sun beats down over us on this rare fall day. Rearranging the six grocery bags I’m hefting down the road, I try not to drop any.

“What were we going to eat then?” Matt fires back, looking light and airy with his two bags. “Not four loaves. One would’ve been plenty.”

“I wanted a sandwich and this is my favorite bread.” I swear to God if I weren’t carrying all of these bags I’d put one over his head and suffocate him.

Kicking open the front door, I wobble my way to the kitchen, toting along my mess of bags when I see him standing there. I should’ve expected it. I’m not shocked, nor am I mad. I don’t even bother wondering how or why because it was only a matter of time―five days to be exact. “Dante.”

Scowling, he starts bitching under his breathe about broken arms and not his woman, but the exhaustion from carrying too many bags up a hill in the sun has taken over. “Why are you carrying those?” Oh, I don’t know. I thought carrying groceries was the new way to work out, dumbass.

“How else was I supposed to get them here? A fucking mule?”

“London,” he says, but continues to just stare at me.

“Are you gonna stand there and lecture, or are you gonna help me?” I snap. He jerks himself away from the counter.

“Yes, of course.” Grabbing the bags from me, he gracefully and effortlessly sets them onto the counter. Show off.

He turns to me after taking my bags and cups my cheek with his hand and uses the other to gently brush the hair out of my face. His sweet gesture melts me just a little bit more, but then he opens his mouth. “I hope you’re not mad that I’m here. Are you?”

“Yes, I am, but do you honestly care how I feel about it?”

“No.” Of course he doesn’t.

“I would ask why you’re really here, but I doubt you’d tell me the truth.”

“Really? I don’t always lie to you.”

“But you do lie. A lie is a lie, Dante, whether you say it out loud or not. It’s still a lie.”

“Only to protect you.”

“The only thing I need protection from is you, but since you say you don’t always lie, do you care to feed me some truth for a change?”

“I’d like to feed you
something
,” he murmurs.

“And that is my cue to get the hell out of here. It’s been nice eavesdropping, and welcome to London, Mr. Stalker. I’ve got things to do so I’ll catch ya later. Call if you need me, hunny buns.” Sneaky bastard. I forgot he was even here. I need to get my shit straight.

“I will, Matt. Stay out of trouble and you call me if you need help.” It’s a high probability that I’ll receive that call.

Looking back at Dante, he’s running a nervous hand through his hair, then brings it to that watch, but today he isn’t wearing one. God, I hope he doesn’t self-combust from lack of things to fiddle with. I notice fading bruises. I start to ask but he blurts out, “I wanted to see you.”

“You did?” I don’t know why, but I feel likes he’s here for other reasons too.

“Yes. I flew across a goddamn ocean to see you.”

“Why?”

“I fucking like you. I like you more than I want to admit, but like doesn’t even begin to describe it. Why’s that so hard for you to understand? I want to spend time with you. I want to see what this is between us.”

“Okay.” He stops with his fiddling and looks at me in shock.