Trigger (Pericolo #3)

by Kirsty-Anne Still

  “Wine or whiskey?” she asks me and then she cocks a brow. “Ooh or both?”

  “It’s ten thirty in the morning,” I argue, stopping her from picking.

  “And it’s happy hour somewhere in the world,” she says with a shrug as she brings the bottles over. “Which will it be?”

  “Give me that,” I say, lashing out to swipe the whiskey.

  I unscrew the cap and press the bottle to my lips. The moment the liquor passes through my lips, I find an unquenchable thirst. It’s been a volatile few weeks, but I think I’ve found the point in which I’m going to cave.

  “Calm down, girlie! Pace yourself.”

  “You’re the one who just told me it was happy hour somewhere,” I remark, swallowing a large gulp of the alcohol. I catch the way she’s looking at me. She’s worried about my sudden change in attitude. “Sorry,” I apologize quickly. “It’s the anniversary of my family’s death,” I admit, sniffling with the impending flash of emotions. “And life with Dante Valentino is emotionally tiring.”

  “Ah, so you’ve met all sides of him, I’m assuming?” Jodi asks me, reaching for the bottle to take a swig. She swallows, closing her eyes as the liquor burns. “He is a very confusing man at the best of times, but I think you’ve thrown his entire world into a spin.” She hands the bottle back to me. “Now, your family... wouldn’t you rather be someplace other than work on today of all days?”

  I shake my head. “Nope, nowhere,” I say, taking a large gulp of drink. “I have no other family to go to, I keep to myself at the best of times, and if I go home, I’ll probably just crawl into bed. Being at work gives me purpose.”

  “You do this every year. You don’t let anyone in, honey. Maybe it’s time you should,” Jodi comments, offering an ear. “I’m always, always here for you. You know that, right?” she asks and I nod. “Then talk to me, Ryleigh.”

  “I don’t know how to.”

  Ever since I could remember, people shut me out. I had no family to take me in after the tragedy that altered my entire life, so I never grew up like a normal child. I was constantly moving from school to school because no family wanted to adopt me. I lived with so many different foster parents I started to stop remembering their names or their faces. I came back to Brooklyn years after I graduated and worked whatever job I could until someone told me about Jackson’s place. Even working there, I kept to myself and stopped making real friends when the ones I was close to found their path in life and left.

  Every year, I deal with birthdays, Christmases, and the anniversary alone. I have no one to share the overwhelming grief and guilt that consumes me with, so I never let anyone in.

  “I don’t talk about it because I start to hate myself.” My admittance ebbs from me quietly. I cave and finally talk to someone about all that I bury. This paired with my Dante issues are leaving me weak and tired. “Why did I have to survive?” I ask, looking at Jodi and longing for her to have every answer I need. “What was so damn special about me that I survived what happened? What did I do to deserve being left behind?”

  “Oh, Ryleigh,” Jodi begins, offering me a sympathetic tone. “No one knows why we survive what we do, but we do. We’re given a second chance for a reason.”

  I scoff at the thought, staring at the bottle I hold.

  “I really made something of my second chance, didn’t I?” I ask her, laughing mirthlessly at the debacle my life is. “I have no qualifications, and I barely graduated high school. I have no transferrable skills, no money to help myself, and, fuck, I killed a man the other day,” I admit, caving to a tone full of despair. “What does that make me?”

  “It makes you someone who wants to seek some sort of vengeance for what happened to her. You survived a heinous tragedy that had no reason to it. You had your childhood and innocence snatched away from you, Ryleigh. You stood no chance when that happened.” She reaches forward, and I think she’s about to take my hand like Jackson would, but she doesn’t. She responsibly takes the bottle from me and sets it on the floor with the bottle of unopened wine. “I’m not one to read you the riot act or reprimand you for being some holier than thou being. I’m not perfect. Jackson isn’t perfect. Dante certainly isn’t. I am not one to speak of morals and absolute goodness. The people I’m closest to are killers and fraudsters. They’re the fucking mafia.” She gives me a small smile. It’s brief, but it’s relieving. “You may have killed someone, but you did it for a reason, Ryleigh.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Jackson is not one to keep secrets from me. I could tell he was worried about something, and it didn’t take long for him to tell me all about the issues you’re having, including your shifts and Dante. He also wasn’t pleased over the fact Dante was a gloating bastard about your kill.” She shifts a little closer but ultimately relaxes back. “Did you ever hear about how Jackson and I met?”

  I shake my head, not wishing to pry.

  “I was walking home one night from the club I used to strip at,” she says, but pauses, waiting for me to react. She was exactly like us girls at the club. “I remember feeling like I was being followed, but I didn’t stop. Until I was made to, that was.” She closes her eyes for a second but doesn’t break. “I was dragged into a doorway and mugged at knifepoint. When I tried to run, the guy tossed me to the ground and beat me black and blue before taking all of my night’s earnings.” I see a new pain ignite in Jodi’s eyes, one I never thought I would see on her. “I don’t remember how it happened, but I heard a commotion. When I finally focused, Jackson was there beating this guy with the help of Dante. They didn’t stop until the guy was nearly dead. Then they came to my rescue. I remember Jackson picking me up and carrying me toward their car. He and Dante had been at the club earlier that night so I recognized him instantly. He spoke to me and kept me awake long enough to get me to the hospital.”

  “How old were you?”

  “I must have been just shy of eighteen,” she comments, blushing. “My boss back then loved his girls young. It’s one of the reasons Jackson and Dante are so strict on the age of the girls they employ.”

  “What happened after?” I asked, now enthralled with the story.

  “Jackson came by every day I was in that hospital, and I knew from the very moment I had seen him that I would marry him. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect him to save my life and swoop in as he did. I thought I was being a stupid girl crushing hard on a hottie! I still do! I mean, Christ, I’m one of the luckiest fucking girls alive.” Jodi gets this light blush across her cheeks as nostalgia sets in. “He proved to me that you have to take a leap of faith. I turned my life around the very moment I got out of the hospital. Jackson and I were never apart after that. I had my second chance, and I wasn’t about to waste it.” Now, she grabs me. “That’s what you need, Ryleigh. You need to sit down and decide what you want to do with your second chance.”

  “I don’t even know where to start,” I admit with a sigh. “I have so much going on in my head. I don’t even know where to begin with making my life right. Right now, I’ve just been sinking while this day got closer. Everything with Dante exploded and it didn’t mix well with my nerves over today, so now I don’t even have work with him. I’m just here trying to do what I usually do and walk through today surviving. I don’t even know how to add making major life changes onto that.”

  I want to tell her about Dante. I want to admit everything, but he’s like her brother. I can’t drive a wedge between them any more than I already have. My mistake cost me something that could have helped me, could’ve helped him, but that’s my problem to deal with. For now, Jodi just needs to know the real crux of my heartache of the day.

  “It’s okay. It can wait for today, but I will be chasing you in a week or so,” she comments, teasing me. “But there is something else. You’ve seemed rather sad lately, not just because of today. I’ve noticed it, and Jackson’s really noticed it.” Her tone is still attentive, and I wish I had chosen to work with Jodi so
oner. Maybe then, I would have gotten a lot off my chest years ago. “Is it just the anniversary doing it? What’s going on with Dante?”

  “I wouldn’t know,” I say hesitantly. My admission causes her to sit back. “I haven’t seen him in a couple of days. I guess he’s dealing with Amelia and work. He wanted me at the latest fight, but as soon as it was over, he sent me home. He said it was because he had to rush back to Amelia.”

  “Ah, that.” She suddenly puts the puzzle pieces together. “She loves Zane and he just threw her out. She’s devastated.” I notice how emotional Jodi gets; I also notice the anger that simmers beneath it all. “I can’t imagine giving yourself so wholeheartedly to someone just to be discarded once they were done with you or because something wasn’t quite what they wanted.”

  I feel myself pale. If she could recount the events of the shattering whirlwind affair of Dante and me, she would just have to repeat herself. While it was brief, it was catastrophic. We may have had fleeting desires, distracting chemistry, and a shared love for bloodshed, but our pasts cut us too deeply to give more. I tried, but he declined. I wouldn’t try again.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” I reply, albeit too quickly. “I can’t even begin to imagine what that feels like,” I lie, shaking my head solemnly. “It has to be hard to give so much and receive so little back.”

  “Yeah,” Jodi replies. “Thankfully, we don’t have this issue, and Dante will fix her back together quickly.”

  “Are they an item?” I ask and instantly realize how stupid I sound. “I mean, have they ever been one.”

  “No.” Jodi laughs, shaking her head. “God, no. They’d kill one another. They’re just extremely close to one another. They come from similar backgrounds – both lost loved ones, both dragged into a mafia lifestyle.” Her solemn look intensifies. “It’s hard for them.”

  “I bet,” I admit, thinking back to the file with Dante’s image in it. As my mouth dries, I look at Jodi and ask, “Can we go back to work? I just want to distract myself right now.”

  “Of course,” she agrees cheerfully. “If you need another little drink, they’re here.” She gives me a wink, standing up and picking up the bottles. “I’ll see you back out there, girlie.”

  She gives me the brightest smile she can before she heads off down the store.

  I go back to work. I lose myself in organizing the books in alphabetical order. It’s quiet in here, so the faster I work, the less room my thoughts have to overtake. I notice I have a book that belongs at the front of the shop. Setting the rest down, I make my way through the bookshelves and hope to be quick so I can return to my solitude.

  I turn the corner, and looking up, I come face to face with Dante. It’s been a few days since his grandfather’s birthday party. He hasn’t made contact and I haven’t called him, so seeing him now has me shocked. I look down and prepare myself to walk away. I advance for the counters, prepared to pick up more books to put away. I don’t pay attention as I prepare to rush to the back of the store, but Dante’s intimidating form blocks my way.

  “Excuse me,” I murmur, hoping he’ll move away with ease. “Please?”

  “What, can’t you even muster a conversation with me now?” he asks me, a half smile twisting his lips. That forces me to look at him. “When did we become so antisocial, little wolf?”

  “You know when,” I tell him, hitting him away. “I have work to do.”

  “No, you don’t, girlie!” Jodi intervenes, cheerfully. “This bastard can occupy your time all he wants.”

  “No, he can’t.”

  I don’t want to fall victim again because I know I will. I can’t quell what it is he forces me to feel, it’s impossible. Instead, the closer I am to him, the more I want him, but he’s made it clear it’ll never happen. It’s lust, not love, cara. I fear that soon I’ll bleed so much I won’t breathe. How did I become a woman run so vehemently by my heart? I hate it! I hate him for forcing a beat into it and then leaving me with a constant ache to replace it.

  “I just want to work,” I say, finally pleased when Jodi pulls Dante out of my way.

  I feel like I’m a little mouse around him. My emotions are running riot with me today, so much so that being near him causes me to feel my restraints starting to wane and snap. I thought he was the only one to understand my bloodied history enough not to pry, but enough to support me.

  And he did until that night at the fight club.

  My words still ring bitterly true in my ears – I could learn to love you. Even now, the sting is still palpable, the humiliation still rife, and I would do anything for a total do-over. I can’t take back what I said, and Dante had all but skimmed over it just to have me by his side at the party.

  But that wasn’t good enough. Not for me, anyway.

  I didn’t want to forget what happened. I couldn’t erase any of our story from my mind. We had collided with a kaleidoscope of colors – our lives merged and we breathed for the other. How could I forget that it was in that tragic whirlwind, the one that picked up momentum the more we came together? I couldn’t forget any moment with a man who made me come alive in the deadliest of ways. It wasn’t a possibility. There was no way on this earth I could forget how Dante Valentino made me feel.

  “Ryleigh.” His deep, baritone voice penetrates my reverie.

  I turn on the spot to tell him to leave, but it’s futile when he holds all the power. He pushes me against the bookcase, forcing me to drop the book from my hands as he does. A worn copy of Jane Eyre drops to my feet, and Dante kicks it away. He takes my hands, forcing them above my head so he can start to ply me with kisses. That same intensity we had at his grandfather’s party is still there, still burning us both.

  “Forget about it,” he tells me, his hopeful tone breezes over my skin. “Ryleigh, just forget what you feel now and remember what you felt when it was just blood and sex. Can we go back to that?”

  I’m not sure I can, my mind whispers painfully.

  “Please, Ryleigh,” he begs, his lips kissing my neck as he moves toward my lips. “Please, let’s just forget that ever happened. I’m willing to try to forget for you.”

  “You don’t forget,” I remark, fighting him off. “And I can’t.”

  With that, he lets me go, stepping back. He reacts as if I’ve burned him. I truly broke us before we even had a chance to start.

  “You’re asking me to do the impossible.” I suddenly feel like I’ve found my voice. “You spun a nice little tale the other night, Dante. You gave me a lovely evening then asked me to promise not to go after other men. My job requires me to make men like you pay up to watch me dance. You did that. You put me back there and I hate you for it.”

  “Then stop going there,” he states, a growl loosens in his chest.

  “And go where?” I ask him, daring him to give me a plausible answer. “Jackson is the only one to prove that regardless of what I say or do, he’ll always be accepting.”

  “If it’s Jackson you want so badly, cara, go after him. I won’t ever be him.” He puts his hands on either side of me, pushing me against the bookcase once more. This time it isn’t to kiss me. No, he wants to scare me. “I’m not capable of being him. I won’t ever be capable of what it is he gives Jodi.”

  “Who said it was him I wanted?” I question, pushing him backward. “I’m really glad you showed your true fucking colors sooner rather than later. It stopped us from getting too deep. Maybe it’s better,” I say, watching him for a second before I pick the book up again. “It keeps us from crossing that line again.”

  “I know you, Ryleigh. You’ll be forever teetering on that line, hoping I’ll drag you over and love you right.”

  “Dante!” Jodi calls out from the front of the store. “I’m ready to go!”

  It’s now I draw a proper breath. We fall away from one another, our tense conversation ended by the call of Dante’s name. Dante stalks off, straightening his clothing as he goes, running a calculating hand over his
hair to smooth it back.

  And I just stand here watching him walk away from me again.

  I sigh, realizing we’re being watched by a customer and I take a moment to reach down for the book and remember where it belongs. I act as if nothing happened. I take a slow walk up the aisle, hoping it’ll waste enough time for Dante to have left. I heard he and Jodi were going out for lunch as they had finally gotten over their argument from when I started at Dynasty.

  “Oh, Ryleigh!” Jodi exclaims as I come out of hiding from between the bookshelves. “Chloe is in charge while I’m out but feel free to take a break. I know what today is like. Please don’t push yourself.”

  “I won’t,” I reply, forcing a cheerier tone. “Thank you for everything, Jodi. I appreciate knowing you’re here.”

  “Always!” she gushes, giving me the warmest of smiles. “You ready to go?” she asks as Dante approaches us.

  He nods and then narrows a gaze on me.

  “Do you have work with Jackson tonight?” he asks me, coming to stand beside Jodi.

  “No,” I tell him, giving a small smile.

  My heart flutters; maybe he cares.

  Maybe my heart’s still a bastard.

  “Okay, good,” he starts, giving me a little grin. “Keep your cell on you. I’ll be calling tonight with a new job.”

  Yep, it’s still a bastard.

  “Okay,” I say, unable to meet his gaze again. I don’t know if I’m ready to just throw myself into work tonight with him. Doing so involves being in close proximity to him. “Have a lovely lunch.”

  “We could bring you back something?” Dante asks, stalling me from leaving. “I’ll be dropping Jodi back off, so we could bring food back.”

  “No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about me,” I tell him, denying his offer. “Just go and have fun.”

  “Girlie,” Jodi sparks up, interrupting us. “You know if you want the day off to go to their graves you can?”