by Lucian Bane
Shit. Shit, shit. The adrenalin that always preceded a fight, hit him. Dante slowly calculated his evasion tactics. “I help people, Rin. However they need me to. No, I haven’t had a dozen women with your issue if that’s what you’re wondering.”
“H-how many?”
“Does it matter?”
She stared at him and he held her gaze, not happy with the confusion and pain in it. Fuck, did she think he did this with other women as a sexual hobby maybe? “How many?” she asked.
“None,” he said simply.
She stared at him, still not happy. “But … if there had been a woman like me? Before me? After?”
Wow. Dante realized he’d read her wrong and now he was in a corner. She wasn’t thinking he was a sexual player, she was thinking this was a once in a life time thing, a thing of God, a miracle. But why should that bother her if he helped another like her?
“Rin,” he said carefully. “You’re in my care. I’m here for you. What I would do for anybody else is irrelevant don’t you think?”
She smiled and looked down, nodding. “Of-of course you would, you’re … you’re a healer, a good man.” She gave him a huge smile and Dante didn’t get why it should feel like a knife in his chest. She stood and looked around, holding her arms. “And so we get my levels in order and I’ll be healed now that … that my body knows what to do. Then you’ll be done here.” It wasn’t a question it was a statement.
Fuck, he’d just lost her. Wasn’t sure how, but it felt like he had. “We’ll take it one day at a time. And do whatever needs doing.” He eyed her, ordering his pulse to slow down and remember he needed to steer. “You still trust me?”
She turned and gave him one of the most beautiful smiles he’d ever seen. So breathtaking. So fake. “My trust is in the Lord,” she said quietly.
Dante stared at her. She’d just told him in so many words, No, I don’t trust you. But I do still trust God. She was back behind her God wall, back to hiding from him. Fucking great.
This was a setback. And he needed to figure out how to get things back on track. As soon as he figured how the fuck he got off track. Keeping her pretty conscience clear would remain mandatory. He’d lie, cheat, and steal so that she could stay clean. He owned the dirty road and would happily take it for her if it led her to the higher one.
Dante knew this would eventually get messy he just thought he’d have more time before it did. And Dante… he was an okay dude for handling real life shit, but this was hardly normal and not something he’d dealt with … ever.
Claw, on the other hand … Claw was a soldier. A second skin he didn’t like slipping into but had no problems doing just that. He was trained for combat, for getting shit done, and surviving. And Dante was that new pair of shoes he’d inherited and wore, but never felt comfortable in. He was still breaking him in, still forcing that grain to his will.
“Open that box for me, will you?” he said, getting back to his lunch and plotting how exactly to shatter her sick little world, the prison she called life. Claw would have no problems with the tearing down parts of this job but the building back …? He wasn’t so sure that side of him was cut out for that. He needed Dante for some of this. Claw was that serrated edge knife for times when you couldn’t afford the blade to slip, and Dante was a razor-edged sword with clean, quiet, perfect cuts. He needed both.
Dante drank all of his milk and didn’t glance her way when she set the box on the counter next to him and looked around.
“Scissors in that drawer at the end,” he said, standing.
“Right,” she said, her voice shaking.
“You were pretty low on zinc and iron.” He took his plate to the sink and began washing it. “That will take a little time to slowly work up. I want to take your measurements and weight.”
“I-I can do that,” she said.
“I’ll do it. I have my own methods.”
“Oh … uh okay. So … I can … I can do the other things I need to do daily … that you mentioned.”
Dante shut off the water and turned. “Rin,” he said firmly. “Look. I’m not going to beg anything from you. I’m not going to coerce it out of you, or force it. If you’re not going to willingly give yourself over to my help, we need to end it now. Because once I start, I won’t stop till I’m done. You have to give me the same commitment.”
He pushed off the counter and sat at the snack bar right next to where she stood, breathless. He angled his head until she gave him her complete attention, both eyes locked to his. “If you need a day to think about it? To figure out if you can, or can’t? Fast, pray, whatever it is you do?” he whispered. “You do that. But once you give me that answer …” he shook his head slowly at her. “I don’t want to turn back.”
She held his gaze for many seconds and it was like an open book to her perfectly washed mind. “All the praying has been done,” she said in a shaky voice. “All the fasting. The crying. Begging,” she whispered, eyes bright with tears. “You do what you came here to do. But whatever you do. Mr. Baston…” she nodded her head slowly. “Don’t you even try to take God from me or I will … Well, I will not allow that.”
Dante’s heart hammered at the hard gleam in those pretty eyes. Wow. He’d lost serious ground with her. Hell, he was practically the enemy now. Just what the fuck happened in that head of hers in the last two hours? “You can be sure I’m going to take many things from you, Rin.” He smiled a little. “But never … would I ever … take away the most beautiful part of you.”
His answer seemed to surprise her while at the same time settling her just a little. “Good.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Dante’s Sermon
“Good morning,” Dante said into his phone.
“Morning,” Rin said. “You’re up early.”
“Not really,” he said. “Wanted to give you the tentative schedule.”
“Okay,” she said, sounding like she was dragging herself out of bed. “Do I need to write this?”
“I have a copy here for you. First thing we do is Bible study. Then we measure you and I need to make a couple of assessments. Did you have an orgasm?” he asked, lastly.
“Uh… I. I did try.”
“That’s good,” he said, “Trying is good. Keep at it and let me know if you need any help.”
“Did you say Bible study?” she asked.
He smiled, already knowing that one would be a stumper. “Yes. I think we should start every day grounded in His Word, don’t you agree?”
She made sounds of uncertainty before blurting her, “Yes, of course. Of course I do.”
“You sound surprised.”
“Well … I guess I am, yes.”
Dante nodded still grinning. “Dress comfortable.”
“Okay,” she said. “What time?”
“Can you be here at 9:00?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Bring your bible and yourself. And don’t eat. I’m cooking a healthy breakfast.”
More stuttering before consenting with a breathy “Okay. I’ll … see you in a bit.”
Dante hung up and jumped in the shower. After getting out, he dressed in only his black tight briefs. He needed to constantly call her to her sexuality. Keeping that appetite stimulated had a way of bringing clarity to frigid brains encased in bullshit.
****
Rin’s hands shook so violently she could barely get the button into her blouse. By the time she’d finished dressing, she was sweating and needing another shower. She examined her attire in the mirror, chest heaving like she’d jumped hurdles. She nodded a little. Modesty achieved at least. Mr. Baston had said dress as she liked, what pleased her, and the early century clothing did that. She thought about Dante and hardened her jaw. She was glad to finally figure his angle out. She couldn’t deny how painful the realization was, but it helped her with other issues she was having with him that she had no business having.
She paused at her reflection and turned her face a little to th
e left. She touched her cheek bone then turned it right, running her fingers over several sunken spots. So thin. Almost … sickly looking.
Her heart hammered in fear as she took a step back and tried to see herself with a stranger’s eyes. She looked down then back up in attempt to glimpse that first impression. Her stomach twisted at the skeleton she met in the mirror. Is this what other’s saw? What Daryl saw? Dante?
Renee’s words echoed in her mind. ”You are nothing but skin and bones!”
She gripped her midsection with both arms. Was this why she couldn’t conceive? She ate, she just … didn’t eat a lot, but she ate. She was careful not to commit the sin of gluttony and was satisfied when she ate.
Maybe it was the clothes.
She hurried to her closet and went through everything she had. Fifteen minutes of envisioning herself in each outfit resulted with the same Victorian skeleton image.
She ran to her dresser and dug through every drawer looking for something different, something more to date. Her hands froze. She didn’t know what was to date.
She looked around and spied her phone on the night stand and quickly crawled to it. Heart pounding, she finally found the button that would take her to the internet where every manner of answer on any one topic could be found. Current female dress attire? Current ladies’ fashion. Yes, that.
She hit enter and scrolled. And scrolled and scrolled, and scrolled. Her gaze narrowed at the strangeness while she mentally compared everything she saw to her wardrobe, looking for anything remotely similar.
She paused. That summer dress. She flew to the closet and pulled down the box. Daryl had made her wear it to that church function, he’d said she needed to dress more modern. She threw off the cover and held the peach colored silk to her body then quickly dressed in it.
She fought with the wild stray hairs, securing them again in her artistic bun.
Out of breath again, she peered at herself in the mirror. Her eyes blurred with the crushing pain in her chest. Had she always been this … ugly?
She clenched her eyes shut and shook her head a little. Don’t do this. This is not right, this is of the enemy. This is an attack of the enemy, you are not ugly, you are beautiful before the Lord.
She fought to bring her breaths under control and fell to her knees right there in the bathroom, praying. Praying with all her might. God give me strength. Give me courage, I beg you. Please forgive me for doubting. For all these sinful thoughts. Please help me understand what’s happening please give me guidance, give me anything but what is strangling me!
****
Dante watched Rin as she made her way to the table by the pool, clutching her bible to her chest and looking down as she went. Her steps were quick but there was something off with her gait.
The dress she wore was different and he thought that was a plus. Not that he minded the Victorian slash monk era but to see she could venture out of her comfort zone was a good sign. “Morning, Rin.”
“Morning Mr. Baston.”
Mr. Baston still. “You look nice. Are you hungry?”
She sat and eyed him. “Do I?”
“Do you what?”
“Look nice?”
He wasn’t sure what she was getting at. “Do you think you look nice?”
“I asked if you thought I did.”
“But I already told you I thought you looked nice. You mean am I lying about it?”
She lowered her gaze and nodded. “Right. My apologies. I suppose I need to eat, Renee says I’m skin and bones.”
“You can stand to add meat, yes.”
Her sharp gray eyes flashed up to his. “I’m too thin,” she said, as though confirming it.
“I never said that.”
“You just said I can stand to add meat.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re too thin,” Dante said with a smile.
“Well am I too thin?”
Dante sat back and angled his head at her, and for the first time she seemed to realize his own attire. Or lack of it. “Can you please open to Leviticus 19:11?”
She eyed him a moment before opening her bible and quickly finding it.
Dante smiled. “I like that.”
She looked up at him. “Like what?”
He propped an ankle on his knee. “Just how worn your bible is and how quickly you know your way around.”
Her gaze lowered to the table. “Where’s yours?”
“In my head.”
She regarded him with skeptical challenge and he smiled. “What does that scripture say?” Dante asked.
She sat back. “How about you tell me.”
“It should say Thou shalt not lie. Is that right?”
“Yes,” she said. “That’s an easy one.”
“I don’t have a photographic memory,” he admitted. “I just know the truth in the pages.”
“Do you,” she said. He wasn’t sure if she meant for her skepticism to blare through but it made him chuckle.
“I do. I’ve had a lot of time to read it.”
“Have you? And why would you?”
Dante stared at her now. Did that dickhead husband not tell her about his past? Why would he not? No, more like why would he. Not exactly something she would have taken nicely to he’d think. “Your husband didn’t tell you about my past?”
Her gaze narrowed, giving him his answer. Well, shit. He considered what that information might cause in their little relationship. Maybe it would be good. Maybe not. Either way, he never hid that part of his past and he wouldn’t start now, especially not with her. Besides, he was interested in how she’d handle that. “I did fifteen years in prison. For murder.” At the disturbed shock plain in her pretty face, he went on. “It was a gang kill.” He leaned back, looking at the pool water. “This dude kept fucking with my sister and I was intending on beating his ass to let him know to leave her alone. He drew a knife and I drew mine. I stabbed him. And he died.”
He finally looked at her and found her expression hadn’t changed, maybe worsened. “You don’t sound very sorry Mr. Baston,” she whispered with a shaky voice.
He held her gaze hard for several seconds. “I wasn’t at first. But as the years went on and Tin Tin taught me the Truth in God’s word ... I finally realized what I’d done. And was sorrier than I’d ever been about anything in my life.”
“Why?” she whispered.
He laughed a little. “Why was I sorry?”
She nodded.
“Because his life wasn’t mine to take.”
“But … he tried to kill you.”
“That he did.” Dante angled his head at her. “So you think I was justified killing him if he was trying to kill me?”
“No, but … you should be able to defend yourself.”
He nodded, happy to hear her say it. “I agree. Very much.”
“Who is Tin Tin?”
“I’m surprised Daryl didn’t tell you about my past,” he said, not wanting to talk about him.
She didn’t seem surprised or bothered that Daryl hadn’t told her. “He tells me what he thinks I need to know.” Indeed, Dante thought. “And I don’t care,” she added.
“Ignorance is bliss?”
She eyed him briefly before looking at the pool. Dante’s gaze lowered to her neck, catching the flutter of her pulse. “I wouldn’t say bliss. But if God wants me to know, nobody is big enough to keep it from me.”
Dante laughed and she aimed gray suspicious eyes at him. “I’m sorry, that was such a kick ass thing to say.” He took a sip of his grape Kool-Aid. “I think I want a t-shirt.”
“You’re mocking me,” she said, or maybe half wondered.
“No, I’m not,” he assured shaking his head. “Was really a great answer. So I guess God wanted you to know about that seeing as I just told you.”
“I guess he did,” she agreed. But again, it was skeptical. In fact everything in their conversation felt laced in some kind of skepticism or suspicion. Like she thought all of this was
a game to him.
“Can I ask you some questions?”
She stared at him then lowered her eyes over his body before aiming them in her lap.
“Bearing in mind the scripture we just read,” he added.
Her head snapped up. “I don’t lie Mr. Baston. And I certainly don’t need you to remind me of elementary commands like I’m some kind of child or common criminal.”
Ouch. “Okay,” he said. “I apologize for offending you.” He leaned forward and dove in deep. “Are you happy, Rin?”
She drew back with a confused look. “What does that have to do with anything?”
It was Dante’s turn to look confused. “Everything.”
“Happiness comes with obedience to God,” she said.
“And you are certainly obedient,” Dante said.
More suspicion. “I try to be.”
“So … then that would mean you’re happy?”
She seemed to reconsider. “I’m … I struggle with some obedience, therefore …”
“What kind of obedience do you struggle with?”
She put the bible in her lap and fingered the edges of the pages while staring down. “I don’t agree with some things.”
“Like what?”
“Like …” she paused many seconds before blurting, “…the sexual things.”
“Tell me,” Dante said, his pulse speeding up as he braced for the details of her sick life.
“I just … I think that sex should be different.”
“How so?”
She lifted a shoulder. “Pleasurable,” she finally whispered.
Dante sat back, staring at her. “What if I told you that it should be?”
She shot her gaze to his, the desperate hunger there making him sick. “The flesh is weak, and it’s through the flesh that Satan enters and brings sin.”
Dante nodded. “What … does that have to do with pleasure?”
“Passion and lust are a stumbling block, a-a doorway for demons of adultery and promiscuity. They use the lusts and passions of the flesh to cause us to sin.”
“Yes, they do.”
She eyed him, confused. “So lust and passion in sex is like a drug, it intoxicates and …”
