Trigger (Pericolo #3)

by Kirsty-Anne Still

“Ryleigh,” he starts, but I make quick work to stop him.

  “It’s why I tend not to make friends, why I don’t confide in people often, and why I keep to myself. I don’t know what having a steady person in my life is because, ever since my family died, people tended to leave me pretty sharply.” I try to withhold any form of pity from my tone. There are days when the overwhelming reality of my life gets to me, but for the most part, I am resilient to letting it beat me. “I’m sorry for finding some sort of attachment to you, Dante. I really am, but I cannot mistake the feeling that I was meant to meet you. There is something more to us than even I first thought.”

  “I don’t regret you finding something in me that made you stay,” Dante murmurs, his eyes softening upon me. “It’s nice to feel needed by someone who doesn’t know my every misdeed and motive.”

  “I think I’m learning them quickly,” I quip, mocking him lightly. “I guess giving myself wholly to you did something for me more than understanding you better.” It’s now I really think about the journey we’ve allowed ourselves to begin. “Killing Shawn was a sort of liberation,” I say, furrowing my brow at the thought. “I never expected to say that, but when I had that knife in my hand, I felt powerful and in control. It’s not something I’ve ever felt in my life.”

  I catch Dante grinning at me.

  “What?” I ask him, feeling my cheeks blushing some.

  “Nothing,” he comments dryly. “When you took command, I swear I had never seen a hotter sight in my life. I’ve seen a lot since my grandfather decided to train me, but what I saw there was true killer instinct. There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation.” He sits up, narrowing a questioning gaze upon me. “I do have one question for you,” he comments, and I cock a brow, urging him to continue. “What did you say to him?”

  I shrug. “I don’t really remember,” I lie, hoping it’s convincing. “I taunted him, but I feel like I was on such an adrenaline rush that when I stopped, it all fizzled out.”

  “That’s the endorphins, cara,” he states, a gleeful twinkle in his eyes. “Like you know you’re doing justice. The adrenaline that hits your bloodstream is addictive. I always feel like I’m on the comedown from a massive high after a kill.”

  “Is that what you felt like when you killed that asshole last night?”

  The question seems to suck every breathable particle from the room.

  Fuck.

  “He was different from any other kill,” Dante states, that glint leaving his gaze. “I was blinded by rage with him. There was no pleasure in killing that cunt, just a need to make sure he never breathed again. Knowing you were on the ground injured caused a frenzy I had never known.” He leans forward, hands clasped together. “It scared me. I won’t lie.”

  I try to mask the shock from my face. I don’t want him to see it. Likewise, I don’t want him to see how breathless his admittance has left me.

  “I usually work meticulously. I have a kill list, and I plan the deaths in detail. I like to allow them the sense that they’re safe before I issue them with a death warrant. But that cunt last night, he touched what was never his. He threatened to destroy you in ways no woman should ever be destroyed.” His eyes look up at me under hooded eyelids, and there’s a grave look in his eyes. “I know I promised to drag you down with me, Ryleigh, but never as he intended. Men like him do not deserve to see another day. I have very few morals, but I stand fiercely by the ones I do have.”

  He discusses his latest kill with a beauty. It’s definitely different from anything I’ve witnessed. I cannot mistake his intensity. He killed a man in cold blood for me because he wanted to save me.

  “This is what strikes me comical,” I start, pausing momentarily to see that I’ve shocked him. “You won’t let any other man destroy me, but you get free rein to do so any way you see fit.”

  “Yes,” he muses mirthfully. “But that’s because I want to destroy you, Ryleigh, and you’re letting me. That was our deal. You let me hurt you in the most pleasurable ways, but you remain by my side until we’re through.”

  Until you get the chance to abandon me like the rest. That hiss from the back of my mind causes my eyes to drop some. Dante will soon become like the rest of them. There will come a day when we’ve reached our maximum and that will be the day I have to walk away or wait for him to discard of me as he did the other night.

  “You see, the way I view us is simple,” he speaks, breaking me from my depressive reverie. “You’re my American beauty, and I’m your American psycho. It’s the easiest way to define us.”

  I start to grin wickedly at that thought. Knowing whom Dante is related to makes it easier to give way to all the devilish intentions that reside within me. He thinks he still has us both categorized, but I still intend to shock him in every way possible.

  “Well, it’s a good thing I’m willing to switch the roles up,” I assert, giving him a sinful smirk. “We both fit both roles after all.”

  “You’ve not merely peaked being a psycho yet, little wolf.”

  “Then the fun’s yet to begin,” I comment, wryly.

  I wait and watch as that bright grin takes over his face again. He looks at me with such a fiendish manner, but he doesn’t deter me. He never could. What we’re partaking in with our lives is something beautiful. We both have revenge to reap and graves to fill.

  “How are you so okay this morning?” he asks, his face darkening as he deters the conversation once more. This time I’m a little upset that he’s taken the conversation off on another tangent. “After last night, how can you be acting so depraved and still willing to be by my side.”

  “Because today’s a new day,” I say. My comment is fleeting but to the point.

  In reality, I’m still shaken to my core, but I know men like Dante don’t deal with weaklings. In this life, I have never been defeated. I have never allowed anyone that power over me, and some perverted bastard won’t have the power today. If I wallow, I’ll never come back from rock bottom.

  “I am not someone who lets the weight of her world crush her, Dante,” I tell him, showing him just how I’ve coped in the world alone. “I could let every little thing in my life define who I am today, but I’m not. As you said yourself, I’m a survivor. It’s all I know to be.”

  I see my response pleases him as a small smile starts to tug at his lips before they curl up and he grins at me. It’s infectious and causes me to grin a little and relax.

  “Now, I think you should cook me breakfast,” I say, giving him a teasing look. “You brought me here, so you can look after me before I go back home and your heroic facade dies.”

  He chortles, rubbing the back of his neck. “What would you like to eat?” he asks, standing up.

  “Pancakes,” I state abruptly. “You’re making me pancakes before we can even deal with the day ahead.”

  He sighs, looking around the kitchen. “Pancakes, it is.”

  We walk quietly over to his kitchen and while he takes to the main area, I sit at the breakfast bar and watch him. He gets a bowl out, taking flour from the cupboard above it before he opens the large refrigerator to find eggs and milk. I watch him intently, gazing on as he cooks as if he does this regularly. I assumed a man of Dante’s stature would have a housekeeper and a chef, but apparently, I’m mistaken.

  While he’s making the pancake mix, he comes over to me. His face contorts a little out of confusion and he looks up at me – still mixing – with a perplexed look in his eyes.

  “Why am I making you pancakes before the sun’s up exactly?”

  "Because in life there are a few good things you should always embrace... besides pancake breakfast at the crack of dawn."

  “Okay,” he says as if to agree. "Like what else, though?"

  I twist my lips together as I start to analyze his query. I feel my eyes lighten as inspiration hits and I begin to smile coyly at him. The look he fixes me with is really quite hot. He watches me, waiting for a good enough answer, and then suddenly t
hey all hit me.

  "Like that first burn of alcohol as it passes down your throat. Slow dancing in a crowded room. Feeling that electricity when you touch your soul mate for the first time." Now, I feel myself really light up as he looks at me intently. I feel a slight blush creeping across my cheeks. "Nutella. Mmm, definitely that initial taste of Nutella."

  “You’re actually crazy,” he mocks, his eyes growing more intent on me. “And apparently still a dreamer.”

  I cough, clearing my throat as he notices that one key thing about me. I am still a hopeless dreamer, one who hopes for a fulfilling future, but while I’m here, that thought needs to disappear.

  “I expected you to have staff...” I say, looking around the apartment.

  He laughs but doesn’t stop from preparing the food. He doesn’t even mind how I quickly just evaded his comment about me.

  “When I come home covered in blood, the last thing I want to do is to scare a housekeeper or ask her to do my dirty work. My grandfather might like staff waiting on him hand and foot, but not me.”

  “Ah, so Dante Valentino has the ability to be just like any other human being,” I mock lightly.

  “Sometimes,” he mutters, turning his back so he can set the bowl onto the center counters. “Now, before I start to cook these, what do you want on them?”

  “Nutella,” I state dryly. “Bit of a stupid question, really.”

  He turns back to face me laughing at my ridiculousness. He shakes his head as he sees I’m unmoved over the choice, and I wait for hiM to tell me he hasn’t got any. To my surprise, he pulls out the largest jar of Nutella I have ever seen in my life.

  “And here was me thinking you needed to learn to loosen up a little,” I tease him again.

  He shakes his head, setting the jar of chocolate down, allowing him to grab a pan and put it on the stove. He turns it on and flames belt out around it before he turns the gas down. While he watches the pan, I just watch him.

  “What is it you want to do after food then?”

  “Today?” I ask him and he nods. “Hide away.”

  “I thought you didn’t let men like him defeat you?” he asks, an ebb of disappointment hits his voice.

  “I don’t. But, for once, I don’t want to deal with the outside world. Don’t you ever have those days?” I ask him, raising a brow to make him really think. “Those days where you just want to sit and watch television and stuff your face with any crap you find in the cabinets?”

  “No.”

  “I guess the great Dante Valentino doesn’t get to live a little, does he?”

  “Not really, no,” he tells me, and I hear the shame in his words. “When you live in the family I do, freedom isn’t something granted or rewarded often.”

  “Then today is the first day you do that,” I say, feeling my excitement building. “But I need clothes,” I say, looking down at clothes he gave me of his. “I have loved wearing yours, but I’d be far more comfortable on my own.”

  “Fine,” he declares, relenting. “We’re cutting the world off today, but only after you’ve eaten.”

  “Okay,” I say, nodding my head as a plan forms. I start to look around for my things, preparing to flee. “I can catch a cab there and back. There’s no point in you turning out, too. I can be back within the hour.”

  “Like hell you’re going alone,” he states, following me. “No way are you leaving my sight today, little wolf.”

  I guess Dante’s going to learn how the other half live.

  ***

  “You live in Brownsville?”

  “Yeah,” I comment, nodding as well as if to quell the nervousness in me. “Cheap housing, close to the subway if I need it...”

  I haven’t sat still the entire time we have traveled toward where I live. My house is a shack; a fact made more apparent after being stolen away to Dante’s mini-empire at the top of Brooklyn. I see it as a place that keeps me warm, but every time I come home I have a small pang in my chest as I remind myself this isn’t where I ever wanted to wind up in my life.

  We drove for a little over thirty minutes before I took us from the highway and started to head back toward Brownsville before we got here. Slowly, I started to notice how the buildings dim in color, turning from white and perfect brickwork to horrible shades of brown. Now I’m stood here, I can tell he can now see why earning a good wage has always been a concern to me.

  “You can drop me off at the corner here and I’ll rush up,” I state, hopeful he’ll listen to my sudden insecurity. “It’s literally just up on the right.”

  “Fucking hell, Ryleigh, what are you hiding?” he asks as he continues to drive, so as I see my house come into view, I realize there’s no point in lying. He took my plea as a direction and turned onto the quiet street.

  “It’s just up on your right,” I say, pointing out. “The one with the red mailbox.”

  He listens, pulling the car over. As soon as he pulls to a halt, I get out of the car, unwilling to put myself under the scrutiny of him realizing where it is I actually call home. I take pride in myself. I remember that about my mother – no matter what, she always looked her best. So if my house has to be this, then at least I can take pride in the person who walks away from it to go to work.

  “You don’t really live here?” I hear Dante ask as he gets out of his car.

  I hear his voice and I bristle. I know that he’ll laugh next.

  “Yes,” I admit, ending my confession with a swift walk away from the car and up the path toward my front door. “It does the job.” Finally turning to face him, I look him in the eyes, trying to put on a brave face. “You can wait in the car; it’ll probably be a thief magnet out there.”

  “Any fucker who wants to so much as touch my car will have both hands chopped up and fed to the nearest fucking canine I find,” he comments, locking the car and taking a confident stride toward me. “Now, give me the grand tour.”

  “You want to go in?”

  “You want to live here, and I want to see it,” he states dryly, taking my hand. “Now, get that door open.”

  “Okay...” I trail off, feeling skeptical.

  I push the key in the lock and open the door. As we enter, I go to flick the switch, only to find the lights dim to darkness moments after flickering on. I mutter under my breath. It’s not dark out, but the sun’s not fully up yet so the additional lighting would’ve helped.

  Or maybe it’s a blessing in disguise – he can’t see everything.

  “It’s not as bad as the last place,” I say, trying to mask the humiliation with humor. “It’s all I can afford on my wage.”

  “It’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be,” he comments, walking in further. “Do you want me to take a look at the breaker while you get changed?”

  “Okay.” I walk away a little. “It’s just by the door to the kitchen.”

  I point toward the kitchen at the back of the house, but when I turn around, I can see he’s studying the entire appearance of my tiny home. It’s cramped and under cared for. A lot of work needs to be done. The walls could use a good lick of paint or some new paper, the carpet could do with replacing, and the windows need refitting so they didn’t let a draft in, but the house fits my means.

  I have locks on the doors and windows and a comfortable bed. The appearance inside doesn’t bother me too much when I’m always at work and come home so dog-tired that I go straight to my bedroom.

  I tell him I’ll leave him to it and head into my bedroom. I open the closet and quickly grab some clothes. As I take off Dante’s clothing, I fold them neatly and replace them in the bag where I’m placing my things. I take the dress I was wearing the previous night and throw it in the trashcan by the door.

  I get dressed and head back to find Dante. As I come out, now dressed in skinny jeans and an oversized shirt, I find him staring at the only photo I have of my family. We’re all smiles, not knowing what was to come. We were so carefree and oblivious. The lights are now on in the f
ront room, telling me it was an easy job to fix.

  “That was taken a few days before they died,” I say, coming up behind him. “It’s all I was given after I was put into the system.”

  “Why weren’t you given anything else?” he asks, looking at me. I shrug at him. “So, you really have nothing of your past?”

  “Nope,” I say, smiling at him sadly. “Some days it makes it easier not to have the reminders. Other days, I wish I had more to remember them by.”

  “I get that feeling,” he says, approaching me. “I don’t like leaving you here.”

  “Good thing you’re not,” I remark, giving him the slightest of smirks. “Good thing we’re going back to yours.”

  “But you’ll end up coming back here after.”

  My heart begins to speed up as he begins to show a more caring side to him, but I’m still resistant. I know on some level he cares about me, but there is a point at which we can never exceed. I am well aware that, for me, Dante has exceeded many hard limits for me. I won’t keep pushing him.

  “Well, you’re going to have to get used to the idea. I’m not going anywhere else.”

  “I want you to, though,” he tells me, his voice lowered. “I gave you the ace of hearts. That’s me pledging myself to you.”

  “And you can, but you can’t solve my living problems,” I admonish his worries. “Now, can we go?”

  “We can,” he agrees, omitting his disagreement that I will have to come back here at some point. “I know you want to be shut away from the world, but I’m not quite ready to do that.” His comment has me tensing up, but he reaches out, touching my jawline with a delicate manner. “Do you trust me?”

  The answer to that is simple – “With my life.”

  15DANTE

  I’ve played the gentleman for Ryleigh ever since finding her awake earlier today.

  After what I witnessed, especially after the anniversary of her family’s death, I decided I would relinquish my undying need to rile her, and I released my grasp from rattling her cage. She seemed to do the same in response, and we both managed to see a new side to the other.