by Loki Renard
Now, someone tall, dark and dangerous looms at the end of every day. Someone who has intentions I don’t understand, who is keeping me on a very short leash. I see everything differently now. Nothing has changed in the outside world, but one dose of Dante has changed me forever.
I’m done with classes for the day and I’m deep in thought as I walk across to the road where his big black car is waiting to pick me up. He always comes personally. Either he doesn’t trust anyone else to deal with me, or he doesn’t trust me to obey anyone else. Or maybe he just likes me. That last thought makes me smirk to myself. Somehow, I don’t think Dante really likes anyone.
“Hey,” he says. “How was school?”
I shoot him a look as I buckle myself in.
“It’s college, not school. You make me sound like a little…”
“You make yourself sound small when you talk like that,” he smirks and interrupts. “How was it?”
“Fine, I guess.”
I don’t want to tell him that I’m finding the classes I once found fascinating kind of boring now. It used to be I could look at broken pieces of vases painted thousands of years ago and feel something. Now they seem old and irrelevant, and I don’t like that because I know, just like college, it’s not the vase shards that have changed. It’s me. Dante is slowly molding me into a creature I don’t recognize.
He holds out his hand. “Phone.”
I sigh, but I hand it over. He doesn’t let me have my cellphone except for when I’m at school. And it’s not my actual cell phone. It’s one he gave me. This would be a red flag if this was a typical relationship, but it’s not a relationship at all. He has a need to control me which borders on the manic. Then again, as he so often reminds me, I owe him.
He sets the car in motion and I sit with my books on my lap, watching the college campus pass by, receding into the past along with my innocence. I miss the girl I used to be. I miss my friends. I thought I’d see them in class at least, but I haven’t yet.
Steffy is still at her parents, I guess. Miranda isn’t around either. I tried to hunt down Madison in the classes we have together, but she seems to have disappeared as well. I have asked Dante if any of them have messaged me, but he says they haven’t. He even showed me my phone, which now lives in his possession. He could have deleted their messages, but I don’t think so. I think my life is splitting into two eras. BD and AD. Before Dante and After Dante. Nothing that comes from the first period seems to be able to make it into the second unscathed, certainly not me.
“Where are we going?” I ask the question as soon as I realize we’re not heading to the inner city. We’re going the other way out toward the interstate.
“We’re going to visit your parents.”
“And you're dressed like that?”
The first words out of my mouth at that piece of news seem superficial, but Dante looks like he’s spent a long day kicking ass. He’s wearing a black singlet and dark jeans and those big boots and he looks every inch the thug he is. If he shows up to my parents’ colonial villa looking like that, they’re going to call the cops as soon as they look at him.
“I packed some things. We’re staying at a hotel.”
“Oh we’re staying overnight?”
“Uh huh.”
“How romantic,” I deadpan, somewhat resentfully. We fuck, but we’re not a couple. How can you be a couple when one of you is a captive who doesn’t have any say in whether or not she stays or not. The sex is always consensual, but that’s because when it comes to Dante, there’s some instinct in me that makes me make bad decisions.
It’s a long drive out to my parents’ place. They live in a small town, one of those places where everybody knows everybody’s business, grandmother, and usually, what ship she came off. It’s called Mayflower, and it is set among some of the richest, oldest farming country in the land.
Seeing the fields start to roll out around us, I get choked up. Talk about a loss of innocence. This is where I was the most innocent. Dante doesn’t belong out here. He’s a city boy. He needs concrete and steel to contain him.
“We shouldn’t do this.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s wrong. You know it’s wrong. I owe you money, but you shouldn’t be messing with my family. Isn’t there some, I don’t know, gangster code about that?”
He snorts. “Gangster code? You think there’s rules and regulations around how I deal with a girl who steals from me repeatedly?”
I guess not. I fall silent, determined to be on guard against whatever shit Dante has up his sleeve. This is probably where he’s going to get his revenge against me.
“If you hurt either one of them, I swear to god…”
He lets out a short laugh. “You swear what, girl?”
“I will fucking kill you.”
I mean it. If he hurts my parents, there will be nothing I won’t do.
“Fierce little thing, huh,” he says. “Don’t worry, Candi. I’m not going to hurt your parents.”
I don’t believe him.
“And you can’t show up in town in this car looking like that. Everyone will see you, even if you do get changed, and they’ll talk and my parents will know who you are probably before you get to the house.”
“We’re not staying in your redneck town.”
“Redneck!?” I splutter the word. “Hardly.”
He lets out a chuckle, and I know he’s just fucking with me. What an asshole, springing this whole trip on me this way, making me worry about my family, and their reputation. Reputation is everything to my parents. He could hurt them just by being seen on their front porch.
We stop at Canterbury, a bigger town near Mayflower. They have a Walmart here, and the private school where my friends and I met. Dante has booked us into the hotel there. This is crazy, and I say that a dozen times as I get dressed to get ready to have dinner with my parents.
“How do I look?” Dante presents himself to me after his shower. He’s wearing chinos and a double knit sweater with a collared shirt under it.
“Like a randomly generated douche,” I snap.
“Perfect,” he says. “I’ll fit right in.”
The scary thing is, he will. Aside from the slightly darker shade of his skin, he looks no different than most of the men I know. He’s transformed from a hardcore gangster into the guy on the HOA who tells you that your letterbox is painted an unapproved color.
My parents are going to love him.
Fuck.
An hour later, I’m proven right. My mother practically falls over herself when she meets Dante, and as good as it is to see her and my father, it’s not the same. Not with him at the house.
“It’s so nice to meet you in person,” she coos. “You have such a nice voice on the phone, so deep.”
Jesus. My mother is flirting with my captor, and he loves it. That shit eating grin on his face is enough to make me want to slap him, but of course I have to just sit here and smile along and take whatever comes as gracefully as possible.
Dinner is ready, so we all go sit down. What ensues is twenty minutes of uncomfortable lying about attending a Christian camp. Dante is better at it than I am, unsurprisingly. He doesn’t belong here, so why does he look so natural talking with my parents? Why does he find it so easy to settle in anywhere? I’ve been intimate with him. I’ve been living with him, and yet I hardly know this man at all. Will I ever know him? Or will he forever be a man of a thousand faces and no real feelings at all.
“You’re very quiet, Candi, are you well?” My mother reaches over and pats my hand.
“I’m fine, Mom, just listening,” I force a smile.
“Oh yes, Daniel has such nice stories, doesn’t he?”
I wouldn’t know. He has very adeptly managed to get my mother and father to talk about themselves almost non-stop.
“Maybe I could speak with Mr. Smith,” Dante suggests as we clear up after dinner.
“Of course,” my father says, beamin
g. He likes him too. God. How is this happening. I give Dante a suspicious look as my father leads him to his study for cigars and brandy or whatever it is he’s decided on pickling himself with tonight.
“That Daniel is a lovely young man,” my mother says. She’s washing. I’m drying. I’ve done this a thousand times before, but tonight it feels so surreal I can’t handle it.
“Hm? Yes. I guess.”
“Are you sure you’re not feeling well, dear? You do seem rather pale.”
“I’m fine, Mom. I’ve just been busy,” I explain. “It’s really nice to see you though.”
“Oh sweetheart,” she says, drying her hands off so she can hug me. “It’s good to see you too. We miss you so much, and we’re so happy you’re doing so well.”
Tears come to my eyes. I blink them back before she can see them, but I don’t know how much longer I can keep myself contained. This is wrong. This is all a big lie. And now my sweet, innocent loving parents are wrapped up in my biggest mistake. I hate myself for this, but I put on a smile and we finish the dishes while gossiping about the neighbors who have committed the unholy sin of painting their front door orange.
“They say it’s burnt umber, but it’s orange,” my mother insists. “We never signed up to live next to a halloween house!”
I smile, wishing I could give a fuck.
Once the dishes are done, we settle in on the couches with some after dinner coffee. We’re chatting about another lady down the road who is possibly having an affair, when my father and Dante emerge from his smoky lair. My dad is smiling so broadly I barely recognize him.
“Daniel has just made me two offers I couldn’t refuse,” he says, his jovial tone belying the intimidating intimation of that phrase. “The first one is the most important. I’ll let you handle that, Daniel.”
Daniel walks toward me, a plainly predatory smile on his face. My heart starts to pound. I can see from his expression, the sheer glee in his eyes, that he’s won somehow. What has he done now? What could he possibly have done to my father…
“Oh god!”
It’s my mother who screams as he drops to one knee and pulls out a ring.
Dante looks up into my face and speaks in that weird voice that isn’t his. “Candice, ever since I met you, I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind. Would you do me the honor of being my wife?”
I stare at him, blankly, and I realize, listening to my mother’s gasped squeals, and seeing my father’s broad smile, that I can’t say no. I mean, I can, but if I do there’s going to be more than questions. There’s going to be consequences. My parents can’t see the look in Dante’s dark eyes. There’s pure triumph there. He has me.
“Yes…” It’s hard to believe the word just came out of my mouth, but there it is, I am agreeing to this marriage. I am letting him take my hand and slide what is frankly a grotesquely ornate engagement ring on my ring finger.
“Are we going to get married in your dirty warehouse?” I hiss the question in his ear as he pulls me in for a celebratory hug.
“Settle down, princess,” he growls back.
“OH MY GOD, LET ME LOOK AT IT! LET ME LOOK AT IT!”
My mother yanks my hand toward her and spends the next several minutes making vaguely coherent sounds at it. Meanwhile, Dante has stood up and is shaking my father’s hand.
“There’s one more good piece of news,” my father says. “Daniel here has offered to buy into the cake business. He’s going to be a full partner!”
“Wow,” I deadpan. “I literally can’t believe that.”
It’s true. I can’t. What the fuck is Dante doing?
“Mom, Dad, do you mind if… Dan…iel and I take moment outside?”
“Of course,” my mom beams. She’s so excited, it makes my stomach churn. This is fucked up. This is so far beyond fucked up I’m not even sure I can breathe.
I drag Dante outside. That is one benefit of pretending to be a normal couple. I can do things I could never do to him in his real world, like order him onto the porch.
“What the hell are you doing?” I hiss the words at him as soon as we’re alone and I’m certain my parents aren’t listening.
“I can’t have all my business be dirty,” Dante or Daniel or whoever the fuck he is shrugs. “Cakes are as good cover as anything.”
“You’re going to use my father to launder your crime money, you mean. You fucking asshole. There is no way I’m marrying you, either.”
“Really? Because you’re wearing my ring.”
He cocks his head at me and shakes it in that way he has that makes me just boil with outrage. He’s playing me and my entire family like a fiddle. He knows what’s important to my parents, appearances. Now nobody is going to care if I finish my degree now. It’s not going to matter that I drop out of school, after all, I need to marry this gangster and have his babies asap.
I feel sick to my stomach.
Fucking Dante. He doesn’t love me. He doesn’t know what love is. He just wants to possess me. And I bet the only reason he wants to do that is because he knows I don’t want that.
“Fine,” I say. “Fine. Let’s get married. Let’s get really fucking married. You can invest in my father’s business. And I’ll own half of your criminal enterprise.”
“Temper, Candi. Don’t let it get the better of you. I’d hate to have to take you upstairs to your old bedroom and spank your bottom like a little girl.”
I grit my teeth as my cheeks flush. “Don’t talk like that… Daniel? Is that your name now?”
“That’s always been my name,” he says. “Dante is a street name.”
“Right. Great. Well. Awesome. Let’s get married, Daniel. Let’s see how that goes.”
Dante
She’s cute when she’s angry. I know I sprung this on her, but engagements are supposed to come as a surprise to the woman, right? That’s the basis of all those stupid romantic movies where a dude stands in the rain with a boombox and tells the girl he can’t live without her.
Maybe that’s not quite how this proposal went down, but the effect is the same. I want to marry Candi. I want her to be mine. I don’t have any hidden agenda. There is no ulterior motive. She’s hot as hell, we have crazy chemistry, and I reckon a few years of good handling and she might settle down enough to be a mother.
I know she doesn’t trust my motives at this point. She’s looking for me to take revenge on her. What she doesn't realize is that I’m more than making up for everything she stole, just by having her. I can’t tell her that though. She wouldn’t believe me.
“I know what you’re up to,” she hisses at me, her eyes narrowed and flashing fire. She doesn’t have a goddamn clue, but it’s adorable watching her play pretend.
Her father is a smart guy. He plays the simple white dude with his wife and daughter, but when we were alone, he sharpened right up. Gave me one of those looks that goes right through you. Asked me what my intentions where with his daughter. And I told him. Honestly.
Candi doesn’t believe I’m capable of anything that isn’t underhanded and twisted. That’s because she still doesn’t know me that well. I’m a cartoon to her, a big, mean man who fucks her little pussy hard and drives her crazy. I could tell her I’ve fallen in love with her, but the mood isn’t right and I really doubt she’d take me seriously. She’d think it’s a plot, or an act to get something - even though I already have everything.
“You do, huh?”
“Yes,” she practically growls. “You’re going to get my family involved in crime and then you’re going to get them arrested, just like you got me arrested…”
“You got yourself arrested by stealing a car, getting drunk, and shooting a guy with a trust fund.”
“Ugh, you always throw that in my face!”
She’s immature. But she won’t always be. And I want her with me, because I can see the woman she’s going to become. Sometime down the road, Candi is going to be an incredible asset and partner. Right now, she’s a
bratty pain in the ass who really needs hers spanked again.
“Do you want to go in and eat the apple pie your mom made for us? Or do you want me to take you back to the hotel and we can talk about the way you speak to me?”
Her eyes widen. “That’s not fair! You’re… criminaling your way into our family.”
“That’s not a word, Candi. Let’s go inside.”
Chapter 10
Candi
One week later, this marriage farce is still going on. It’s ridiculous.
“Are we still getting married?”
We have been sharing his apartment for a week, and I would say we’re living almost like a married couple, except for the fact that most married people aren’t constantly questioning their status.
“Yes,” Dante smirks, pressing a rough, bristly kiss to my lips. I ask him every morning, and every morning he say the same thing.
“Why are we getting married? You know we’ll be… married, then, right?”
“I know,” he says, pulling his socks on.
“You know, if this is your revenge…”
“I’m going to work,” he says.
“You mean you’re going to do illegal things for money.”
“Exactly,” he says, winking at me without any kind of shame whatsoever.
“And what am I supposed to do?”
“Be a kept woman.”
I shoot him a look. “How does this get you revenge, Dante? What’s your angle?”
“My angle is, I’m taking you.”
“In marriage.
“Yes.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Doesn’t really matter.”
Goddamn he is frustrating. I don’t know what I am anymore. Captive? Fiancee? Both?
He’s been busy lately, really busy, I know that much. My attempts to make him freak out about the commitment aren’t working as well as I’d hoped. Usually when women start talking endlessly about marriage, men panic. I guess it takes more than that to get under Dante’s skin, but I still have a plan. It does require being near him though.
