Old Flame Dante’s Story (Morelli Family 8)

Mateo’s dark gaze met mine, but he offered nothing. While I stood there looking back at him, waiting for a denial that wasn’t coming, Dante’s hand tightened around my wrist. I didn’t bother resisting as he dragged me out of his brother’s bedroom without another word.

I expected he’d let me go once we were in the corridor outside, but he didn’t. He hauled me downstairs and right back out the front door.

“What are—? We’re leaving already?” I asked.

“You are,” he clipped, releasing my wrist and opening the car door. “Get in.”

I didn’t know what to say. There were a million thoughts flying through my head, but at the top of the list, I couldn’t believe he was so angry at me for giving his grieving brother a hug. I couldn’t believe Beth was dead at all, and I certainly couldn’t believe Mateo would have killed her, even if she did cheat on him.

I didn’t say any of that, though. Dante’s jaw was locked, alerting me that it wasn’t a good time to poke the bear. His jaw ticked when I took too long to obey. When his glare landed on me, I put my head down and slid into the passenger seat.

Once I got my legs inside, he slammed the car door and stormed around to the driver’s side. He said nothing when he got in, said nothing until we were off the long driveway and on the road away from the house.

“That was a stupid fucking thing you did back there,” he finally said.

Crossing my arms defensively over my chest, I looked out the window instead of at him. “Yes, I’m so sorry I thought to comfort your grieving brother upon finding his girlfriend dead. What a thoughtless, insane thing to do.”

“He could have hurt you,” he snapped. “He’s not in his right mind. He just fucking killed a woman, Colette.”

“Well, I didn’t know that, did I?” I snapped right back. My heart dropped, acknowledging that, accepting it as the truth. “Are you even sure he killed her?”

Dante’s gaze took on a crazier gleam, more guarded and angry. “What did he tell you happened?”

“He didn’t tell me anything. I just found her like that and… I guess I assumed, and he didn’t correct me.” A moment passed and Dante didn’t say anything else. Finally, I got tired of waiting and offered a morsel of information to see if it was news to him. “He said she cheated on him.”

“Yep,” Dante clipped, his gaze not leaving the road.

“Is that why he killed her?” I asked, quietly.

He looked over at me, a glint of danger in his eye. “Does he need a reason beyond that?”

My stomach plummeted, and I turned my attention to my lap rather than look at him. I would never cheat on Dante or anyone else, but given the conclusions he had just jumped to finding me innocently offering Mateo comfort… “Is he sure she cheated?” I ask. “I mean, did she admit to it, or…?”

Dante didn’t immediately answer. I couldn’t tell if he was considering what to tell me or just torturing me, but I felt tortured.

“Don’t worry about it,” he finally said. “You shouldn’t even know this happened, but he got emotional and it made him fucking sloppy. We’ll get it cleaned up. You put it and her out of your mind.” Then, looking over at me still with that crazy, dangerous glint in his dark eyes, he added, “And don’t ever let me find you alone with him again.”

—

After Dante dropped me off at home, he went back to his brother’s house to help Adrian clean up “the mess,” whatever that entailed. He gave me no further details and I knew better than to push, but I couldn’t believe he was denying me information after I already saw so much. It wasn’t business, it was very much a family affair. If they executed my friend for the crime of alleged infidelity, I’d like to know they were positive it actually happened. I wanted to know I wouldn’t be denied a trial and murdered because I hugged someone and my boyfriend took it the wrong way.

Dante had always been territorial, but it had never scared me before.

That night, I had to admit; I was a little scared.

The rest of the evening went by at an agonizingly slow pace. I didn’t hear from Dante at all, but I assumed he was busy. When he still wasn’t home after midnight, I gave up waiting for him. I took a shower to wash the yuckiness of the day off myself, then I put on pajamas and climbed into bed. My anticipation for bedtime earlier that night crossed my mind, but it felt like a lifetime ago. I guess my dress will stay intact tonight, after all, I thought.

Normally when Dante came home late, I didn’t wake up until he climbed into bed with me, if then. That night he was noisy when he came in, undressed, and went into the bathroom to take a shower.