CARA’S POV The van jostled underneath me as it moved along the unfamiliar road, tires crunching over packed snow.
All around me I could only see darkness from the blindfold covering my eyes.
That asshole.
It was my mistake trusting someone I barely knew.
After chasing the wrong van and taking the driver hostage, I never thought he would blindfold me too as he took us both to his supposed safehouse.
The van slowed and I could hear the sound of a gate unlocking.
“It’s me,” Dante said, voice low, close enough that I felt the words more than heard them.
A voice crackled back through some kind of intercom, too muffled for me to catch.
The gate groaned open, and the van rolled forward.
I counted through the turns without meaning to.
Left, then a long stretch, then right, another right.
Old habits, drilled into me long before tonight.
About two minutes of driving before the van finally rolled to a stop.
The back doors opened.
Cold air rushed in, snowflakes blowing straight into my face, sharp enough to sting.
He reached in and dragged me out, and I stumbled straight into him, blind and off balance, my boots sinking into snow the second they hit ground.
His arm caught me around the waist and stayed there.
His breath caught, so did mine, and I felt my heart pounding hard against my chest.
I felt the heat rush to my cheeks and prayed he didn’t notice.
For a second I couldn’t move.
His hand felt hot against my lower back, like a brand.
Warm through the jacket, and we were close enough that I could smell him.
He smelt like leather and gunpowder and underneath it something cleaner, and I felt a rush of butterflies swirl in my stomach.
I shoved the thought down and wriggled my body out of his grip.
“Come on.” His hand closed around my arm, firm and steady.
“I don’t have time for this.” He walked me up a short flight of stairs, three or four steps, snow slick under my shoes, catching the edges wrong since I couldn’t see them.
The door opened before he could knock.
“Where the fuck have you been?” The voice hit before I’d even registered footsteps.
Dante didn’t answer.
He pushed past him, pulling me along, out of the cold and into the warmth of what seemed like a house.
“Nice of you to finally show up.” The voice again, sharper now, following us in.
We stopped just inside.
A door shut behind us, hard, and footsteps came back around to stand in front of us.
“Is this the situation you were talking about?” His voice was right in front of me now, furious.
“You’ve been out all night playing hero for some fucking woman you don’t even know.” I assumed he meant me, from the way Dante’s hand tightened around my arm.
I felt him go rigid beside me.
“I don’t need this shit right now.” Dante barked.
“I’ve not had a fun night either, thanks for asking.” His voice dripped with sarcasm on the last part.
I tried to pull my arm free.
It didn’t budge.
“Can you get this blindfold off me?” I wasn’t standing here another second not knowing who I was talking to.
A hand reached up, Dante’s, and pulled the fabric away.
Light hit me first, and I squinted and a chandelier somewhere overhead, too bright after hours of nothing but darkness.
The room came into focus, slowly.
A ground floor built like money, an open bar off to the far right, a living room area with sofas and a center table, all of it elegant in a way that made no effort to hide what it cost.
Two guards stood along the left wall, weapons visible at their belts, standing firm and alert.
We stood facing the stairs, and that was where I noticed him, a tall man leaning against the rail.
Black T-shirt tucked into tight fitting blue jeans, slim and fitted, the kind that stretched tight across broad shoulders.
Black hair.
Eyes that seemed blue from the distance between us.
He was handsome.
But not as gorgeous as the man standing besides me.
The thought crossed my head before I had time to think about it.
“Well, well.” The man on the stairs spoke first, voice dripping with derision.
“Look what the cat dragged in.” “Not now, Rico.” Dante’s voice came out cold.
Rico scoffed, shrugging with both hands raised like surrender.
Dante turned to the one who’d been shouting.
“I told you to give me a couple hours.” He said it in a cold voice.
“Now, what’s the situation?” I finally got a look at the guy who’d been shouting.
He was around my height with a stocky build and piercings on his nose and lower lip.
Curly blond hair fell into blue eyes that glared up at Dante, arms crossed over his chest.
He was the typical goth kid, nails painted black, eyeliner lining his blue eyes making the color of them pop more.
He wore loose fitting jeans and a worn out T-shirt that said SUCK IT ASSHOLES in bold blue letters.
Overall he was pretty with a common face and features.
A slight bruise marked the left side of his cheek.
It looked like he’d been busy getting beat up, and he clearly wasn’t the winner.
He glared up at Dante.
“Look for yourself, asshole.” He jerked his head back toward Rico.
“He’s standing right behind me.
I almost died, you know.” “Take a look at my face.” He raised his chin for Dante to get a good look.
He finally let go of my arm and grabbed the kid’s face turning it side to side.
His hand dropped from his jaw and he shot Rico a look.
“Is this what you came here for?
To beat up my men?
How did you even find this place?
Thought we lost you in Chicago.” Rico’s smirk didn’t waver.
“You can never hide from me.” “Besides, what I have to say is too important.
I had to call in some help.” Dante went stiff beside me.
“Don’t tell me—” He didn’t finish.
“Yes.
I asked Gabriella to help find you.
Now she knows where you are.” Rico said it calmly, but his fingers gave him away, fidgeting at his side.
“You little shit.” Dante’s voice cracked like a whip.
“Who gave you permission to do that?” “Who’s the one that keeps running away?” Rico asked calmly.
“I told you, it’s urgent.
I didn’t have a choice.” Rico said it nonchalantly, keeping a cold face, but I could tell he wasn’t as calm as he looked.
Dante leveled him with a look.
The look in his eyes could freeze water.
Dante turned and faced the other guy.
“Send someone to get my bike.
There’s a van parked outside, there’s a package in it for you.
You know what to do.” He looked like he wanted to say more, mouth already opening, but Dante cut him off.
“Fernando, enough.
We’ll talk about this later.
You just handle what I told you to handle.” The kid’s jaw clenched hard enough that I could see it working from where I stood.
Whatever he wanted to say, he bit it down instead.
I rubbed at my wrist, the bruised skin still raw under my thumb and my right arm throbbed painfully.
His blue eyes cut to me, then back to Dante.
“So what about her?” “I’ll handle her.” Dante replied.
I opened my mouth.
“I came here for a reason.
I need to talk to you.” He ignored me.
“Hey asshole, I’m talking to you.” “Send someone to bring a first aid kit to the room at the end of the hall.” He said to Fernando.
Neither of them looked at me.
“I’ll talk to you later.” Dante’s hand closed around my arm again, and he was already pulling me toward the stairs.
Without turning back he said, “Get her stuff and get some rest, you look like shit.” As we passed Rico on the stairs, Dante turned to him and said, “Behave.
I’ll be back soon.” He didn’t wait for a response.
Just pulled me along behind him.
Clearly he was used to people doing whatever he says without question.
Then we were climbing, and at the top we went down a long corridor, my shoulder brushing the wall every few steps because I still couldn’t feel my legs right.
At the end of the corridor, he opened the last door on the left and pushed me inside.