Burnt Road: Dante

by Neal, Toby

  The boulder he was heading for rose up in front of them. It was the size of a small house, two stories tall, the surface worn smooth by wind. Dante parked in its shadow.

  He picked up Barkley, who yawned, opening his mouth and showing off tiny pointy teeth. Dante dropped the dog into Melody’s lap, disrupting Abigail, and the puppies began to wrestle. Melody opened her door and put them out onto the ground.

  Dante was at the back, pulling out supplies. He’d said he didn’t have enough for both of them, but it looked like plenty to her. Not that Melody was a survival expert or anything, but they’d be in Idaho in a few days, and the man looked like he’d prepared for two months on the road.

  “Can I help?” Melody stepped over the puppies and approached Dante.

  “I don’t know.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know what skills you have.”

  Melody smiled. God, he was cute!

  “Well, why don’t you tell me what needs to be done and we’ll see if any of my skills meet your requirements.”

  Dante glanced up at her, his eyes questioning. He was wondering if she was teasing him, which she was. Melody smiled, batted her lashes, and licked her lips. His eyes widened and he returned his focus to the truck, his neck going red.

  He was blushing. Making a guy this good-looking blush like a teenager—she liked that very much. “Maybe you could gather firewood?”

  Melody looked around. They were in the middle of the desert, not a tree in sight except some scrubby-looking shrubs. Maybe she could break some dry branches off them. “Will do, Spock.”

  His head jerked up, eyes wide. The blush spread from his neck to his cheekbones. It made him even more handsome, especially when he looked down immediately and she got a load of those ridiculous eyelashes. Getting Dante to look at her for longer and longer would be fun. Melody grinned and turned, making sure her hair lifted in the warm desert breeze, letting him catch the scent of her jasmine and lavender shampoo as she started toward the closest grouping of shrubs.

  Melody broke off an armful of dry branches and brought them back to where Dante had set up a single camping chair next to the Escalade. She dropped the branches and Dante bent next to them, quickly getting a fire going.

  He pursed his lips, blowing onto the flames. His lips were pink and plump and almost too beautiful for a man, but they worked on him because he was so clearly masculine even with the long lashes and tender lips.

  Melody just watched him. With most guys, she wouldn’t stare so blatantly. She wouldn’t want them to know that she was interested. But Dante was different.

  He set up a grill over the fire and placed a small pot of water on it, pulling out a bag of freeze-dried food and settling into the chair. The sun was almost gone, and the chill of desert night cooled the air.

  Melody returned to the truck and pulled out an extra jacket from her pack. She’d brought a sleeping bag, but didn’t have a tent. Hopefully, Dante had brought one big enough for both of them, but she could always sleep in the car.

  The water boiled and Dante poured it into a bag of freeze-dried stew, shook it up, and then began eating the rehydrated meal with a fork. He did not offer any to Melody.

  She got out one of her paleo bars and ate it quickly. She had brought just a little bit of kibble, and she spilled it out for the dogs. If they didn’t get more supplies soon she and the puppies would starve…unless Dante became a little more generous with his supplies.

  Her stomach grumbled loudly and she felt her cheeks heat as Dante stared at her.

  “I’m hungry. Sorry.”

  Dante looked down at the bag he was eating out of, then looked back up at her, then down at the bag, then up at her; it was like watching a mime. “You want some of this?”

  “That would be great, thanks.”

  Dante handed it over and returned to the vehicle, pulling out a ladder and attaching it to the roof rack. He climbed up and with a few practiced movements, opened a tent mounted on the roof.

  “That’s brilliant!”

  “Just good engineering.” Melody couldn’t see his face, but she had a feeling he was blushing. Shy little Spock.

  Dante pulled a laptop case from the truck, then picked up the pot and used the remaining water to douse the fire, plunging them into darkness. In the moments it took Melody’s eyes to adjust, Dante was already up the ladder and climbing into the tent. She heard the zipper close behind him.

  What a dick!

  Melody had a headlamp in her pack and she put down the food to go grab it. She fumbled around in the dark, finally finding the door handle. She pulled. He’d locked the car. Seriously?

  “Hey, Dante.”

  “Yes.”

  “I need to get in the car. My stuff is in there. Like, my flashlight. It’s dark out here without the fire.”

  The car beeped, the lights flashed and the doors unlocked.

  Melody opened the SUV and got out her pack, setting the headlamp onto her forehead and turning it on before sitting in Dante’s chair to finish off her dinner.

  Barkley jumped at the ladder and barked. Once, twice and on the third time Dante’s head appeared. Barkley sat and wagged his tail enthusiastically.

  “I think he wants to stay up there with you.” Dante unzipped the tent and climbed out wearing only his black boxers. Melody’s breath stopped. His body was caught in her headlamp, each refined muscle exposed in the bright beam as he climbed down the ladder. He bent to pick up the dog, giving her a great view of his unbelievable ass. He straightened, climbing back up the ladder with Barkley in one hand, and disappeared into the tent, zipping it up behind him.

  Melody looked down, shining her light onto the remaining puppy. Barkley apparently was allowed to stay in the tent, but Melody and Abigail would be sleeping in the truck. “Guess it’s time for us to go to bed too, girl.”

  Melody got up and reached for the door handle, figuring she’d be comfortable enough in the passenger seat, but it was locked again. What the hell?

  “Dante, the doors are locked.”

  Again with the beep, the light flash, the unlocking doors.

  Melody tried to put the passenger seat back but couldn’t because the supplies were in the way. How could there not be enough supplies for two when there wasn’t even room for her in the car with all the damn supplies?

  Melody took a deep breath. Dante was so clueless. He probably didn’t realize how rude it was not to let her up into the tent. He didn’t realize it would hurt her feelings that he’d take a dog he claimed to not even like to bed with him, but not her.

  “Dante?”

  She heard the rustle of his sleeping bag. “Yes?”

  “Can I stay up there with you? The seat doesn’t go back.” Melody looked around. The sky was thick with stars, the landscape empty and the night cold. She didn’t want to be alone with only Abigail for company, for protection. She wanted to be up there with Dante, her strong, brave Spock. He would protect her, even if he wouldn’t invite her in. “I’m scared. Can I stay with you? Please.”

  There was a long beat of silence. Melody waited, holding her breath. Had she gone too far? Revealed too much? Was she not safe with him?

  “Okay.” She heard Dante move and the zipper open. His head popped out. Long black curls that had been in a ponytail reached past his shoulders. His eyes shone in the starlight. “You can stay up here. I will sleep in the car.”

  “No. I think we can both fit. Please. I don’t want to be alone.”

  Dante nodded stiffly and disappeared inside.

  Melody changed into her sleeping clothes—just a pair of old boxers and a big T-shirt. With her sleeping bag and Abigail under one arm, she climbed up into the tent.

  Dante was pressed against one side, his computer open on his lap, casting its blue light onto his bare chest. Barkley slept at his feet. As Melody set herself up on the other side of the tent, Dante didn’t even glance at her.

  She peeked at his computer screen. “Are
you online right now?”

  He gave a curt nod.

  “Oh, can I use it? I really want to…”

  He cut her off. “No.” Dante closed the laptop, and, holding it tight, he turned his back to her. Melody’s eyes prickled with tears. She wanted to try to email her mom. A lump rose in her throat as she thought about her mother, who was safe, hopefully, on a river cruise in Europe. But she’d be worried sick about Melody. If she knew about that guy grabbing her today, her mom would freak. It was taking a lot of control for Melody not to freak, too.

  The reality was that she could have lost her life. She was almost a victim in that mob. Melody took a breath, forcing her lungs to work past the old PTSD brought up by the situation.

  Dante was there, and she was safe.

  Melody turned her back to him, pulling Abigail close, and used breathing exercises she’d learned in her yoga studies that had always helped her to fall asleep, to keep the mayhem of the day at bay, and to consciously set herself to rest.

  Melody woke from a surprisingly deep sleep to the sound of an approaching engine. She rolled over. Dante was already sitting up, and in the early dawn light bleeding through the sheer tent she saw the silhouette of a pistol in his hand. He turned to Melody. “Someone is coming.”

  Melody’s body surged with adrenaline. Terror closed her throat. Not again. Never again.

  Chapter Five

  Dante

  Dante slid the zipper up and thrust his head out into the early dawn light. Goose bumps erupted across his skin in the cool air, and he reached back for his pants and dragged them on. He gave Melody a quick glance. Her eyes were gleaming like that feral cat’s in the shadow of the alley. She was scared. “Stay in the tent and keep the puppies quiet. I need to assess the threat.”

  They were not in a good position strategically. The tent was enclosed and vulnerable, with no way to look out and surveille. There was no time to put his shirt on and cover his sensitive skin. The roar of the oncoming vehicle was too close.

  Dante slid the Walther into one of the deep pockets of his pants and opened the tent. The huge boulder they’d hid the Escalade behind was only a foot or two away, the top of it six or seven feet above the tent. He reached out, as far up as he could, and grabbed the rock, finding small fissures along the smooth sandstone surface with his fingers.

  Dante’s brother, Dolf, was a serious climber, and had been taking him out for years. They liked free climbing and bouldering. Despite the sensory unpleasantness of the elements, Dante enjoyed the peaceful concentration and total focus required. He also liked Dolf, who was quiet and restful to be with, unlike Dolf’s twin, Nando, who was always talking and touching.

  Nando was sick with the Scorch Flu.

  Dante batted the thought away like a horsefly as he clambered higher. Now was not the time for distracting emotions.

  His chest scraped the rock, chill and painful, raising the tiny hairs on his body and tensing his already tight muscles further. He reached the top and turned to lie on his belly and look down as a battered Ford F-150 pulled in next to the Escalade.

  Dante drew the Walther, resting the butt of it on the rock, and waited.

  The Ford’s truck bed was loaded with gear and supplies. These people were escaping, too. Perhaps they were friendlies.

  The window on the passenger side rolled down and a head clad in a Caterpillar ball cap poked out.

  “Looks like some yuppie glampers.” Caterpillar Hat had a harsh, phlegmy voice. “Bet they’ve got extra gas and food. Hell, maybe we’ll take their ride and leave ‘em this piece of shit.”

  “Hey, yuppies in the Escalade!” The man in the driver’s seat got out of the truck. He had a bald spot, wore a flannel shirt and carried a shotgun. The sound as he racked a round into the chamber smote Dante’s ears. “C’mon out and share the wealth!”

  Caterpillar Hat climbed out of his side of the truck holding a short-barreled semi-automatic loosely.

  Melody was totally vulnerable in the tent.

  One blast from the shotgun, one spray from that semi-automatic, and she would die. The realization chilled Dante more than the cold rock he lay on.

  Bracing himself, he fired, shooting Caterpillar Hat in the head. The cap flew off and the man landed on it. Dante swiveled slightly and aimed for the other man. He nailed the raider in the chest, but the semi-automatic went off, and a hail of bullets sprayed the hood of the Escalade.

  Damn it. Tactical blunder.

  He should have shot the guy with the semi-auto first, but he thought the safety was still on while he knew the shotgun was already racked.

  Dante waited: for the ringing in his ears to stop, the vibrations of the gunfire to quit jangling his nerves, and for the scene in front of him of fallen, bleeding bodies to become real. They didn’t look real, sprawled gracelessly in the early dawn light, arms and legs askew in the poses of the surprised and unexpectedly dead.

  Just like a first-person shooter video game. He’d never liked those.

  “Dante?” Melody’s voice came from inside the tent, a loud whisper.

  Dante didn’t answer. His hearing was still confused and his tongue clamped between his teeth as shivers of reaction ran over his shirtless torso.

  Melody’s head poked out. Her black hair shone in the dawn light. Melody’s breath caught as she took in the scene.

  “My God.” Melody emerged from the tent, a puppy under each arm. She began to descend the ladder, but when she reached the bottom rung she stumbled. The puppies tumbled out of her arms as Melody fell onto the ground, landing on the corpse with the semi-automatic.

  She screamed, high-pitched and terrible, and then surged up, her body arching away from the dead man. Her movements were graceful even in deep distress. Dante could imagine what the still-warm body must feel like beneath her bare feet, and he winced in compassion at the horror of it.

  He belatedly registered that she was yelling his name again.

  “I’m here.” Dante looked over the edge, down at her. “I’m intact. You aren’t injured. He only shot the Escalade.”

  “Dante! Oh my God. Get down here right now! Right now, this minute!” Melody reached up her arms for him. “You shot them!” She was hopping with distress. “Didn’t you want to talk with them? Negotiate?”

  Her voice battered at him. Her fear was contagious. He hadn’t been afraid except for that moment when he thought of her dying.

  “They would not negotiate. They would kill me. Take everything. Rape you, then kill you when they were done.” Dante was halfway down the boulder. “I had to shoot them.”

  He reached the ground and Melody hit him in a body slam, embracing him hard and strong, the only way he liked to be touched. He wrapped her close, pressing her head against his shoulder. She was trembling all over, clutching and squeezing him. He felt it all the way to his bones, and oh, it felt so good.

  “Dante. You’re okay. I’m okay. The puppies are okay. Everything is okay.” Her voice was low, almost like she was trying to convince herself. Melody was just the right size against him, her face pressed into his neck, her strong arms stroking and hugging. “Thank you.” Her voice was thick, and she sniffled. “You saved my life.”

  “It was the only logical thing to do.”

  Melody laughed against him, the vibration tingling all over his skin. The sound was as wonderful as her scream had been horrible. Dante squeezed her, pressing her into him, one arm locked around her waist, the other around her back. He was hard as stone, his erection sandwiched between them.

  Every sense was on high alert: the colors of a new day swirling over the landscape, the F-150 a dusty silhouette, the acrid scent of gunshot residue mixed with the tinny aftertaste of blood in his mouth and its stink in his nostrils. The yapping of the puppies, tumbling at their feet. Melody in his arms, curvy and strong and perfect, so perfect, the first time a woman had ever felt right to him.

  Dante lifted his head to reassure her some more, to explain what they had to do next. But sh
e took his cheeks in her hands, applying firm, delicious pressure, and turned his face down to hers. Melody’s scent filled his nose, clearing out the stink of death and guns and fighting. She pressed her lips against his, hard and sure and so right.

  Dante sank into a red room of pure sensation. Oh, the goodness of her. The rightness. The fit of her in his arms, the silky textures of her mouth, the instant and overwhelming desire he felt, a surge of something akin to electricity swamping him from the bottom of his feet to the roots of his hair.

  Dante leaned back against the boulder so he could lift her, fitting her against him.

  Melody’s legs came up and encircled his hips. She knew just what to do as her hands roamed over his chest, his pecs, his exquisitely sensitive nipples. She gave him exactly what he needed as their mouths sang a song without words. Dante hoped he was touching her right, too, and the little hungry sounds she made seemed to be saying he was.

  His heart roared in his ears.

  All Dante could do was feel.

  Melody slid her legs down and detached herself gently, her hands resting on his bare chest. Her eyes were a dark mossy green. He didn’t mind looking into them when they were hazy, smoky almost, like they were right now. She smiled at him, lazy and sexy, and he felt himself purring, his whole body vibrating with pleasure for her, because of her. “You scraped yourself.” She leaned forward and kissed the abrasion on his chest. The heat of her lips healed him. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

  Dante stayed where he was, backed up against the boulder, poleaxed by Melody’s kiss. He was unable to do anything but feel the throb of his erection, the surge of his blood, the tingling of his skin, and the thrumming in his ears.

  “We should…I don’t know. The bodies…” Melody gestured toward the horror show on the other side of the Escalade. She turned to look. “Oh my God!” The gray puppy was tugging on the closest man’s pant leg, and she hurried over to detach it. “No, Abigail, no. Dante, we have to bury them.” She looked at him, hugging Abigail to her chest.