Chapter 134

Dante didn’t question it. He stared at me and, in the end, descended the stairs.

I walked with him, knowing that with each step, I was leaving behind what I knew of myself.

And when I reached the floor, I knew who Dante was.

I truly understood who people feared. Who I should fear.

I realized how dirty I was, and nothing would cleanse what I had stained.

The reflux of vomit came late, but it pushed out what my stomach couldn’t handle. And every time I vomited, I felt more disgust.

The smell, the image, the pain of knowing I had always been wrong.

I needed to see a pile of bodies to confirm it.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

There were six dead bodies piled up and one alive, also about to die. I didn’t know the man, but he looked to be in his forties, though it was hard to tell due to his malnourished state.

When I finished expelling, Dante crouched beside me and took a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping the corners of my mouth.

Only when his fingers brushed my eyes did I notice I was crying. Compulsively.

In despair.

In fear.

In anger.

“W-Why…?”

The space was sordid. Breathing the air, I felt as though a lethal substance was lodging in my lungs, opening wounds in them. It was creating a different kind of cancer.

“This is who I am, Gray. I’m not what others say. I’m not the fifteen-year-old kid who killed the kidnapper. I’m the one who killed many more than you’ll ever see alive. The one who pushed four guys to help me decide what I think is fair. Dirty.

Sick. Killer. All of this you’re thinking, and much more.”

My chest was beating faster with every word he said.

I turned to the anorexic man who was squealing for my help, mouth shut. His eyes pleaded.

He was missing an arm.

And his leg was broken.

If he was still alive, it was because all his wounds had been inflicted recently.

By Dante?

The vomit surged again, but this time I held it in with my mouth, staring at the four shadows that were also there.

Vance. Cole. Asher. Jaxon.

I had five guys staring at me intently. But the darkness had obscured part of my vision, so it was as if they had empty faces.

“Why?” was all I could utter.

Dante stood up, and I raised my head to look at him.

“Because the world offered us pain, and we’re going to return it with revenge and blood. It’s what we do. It’s what we are.”

The sharp pangs of pain in my head felt like needles. My brain was being stitched without anesthesia. My eyes were being cursed without protection.

The smell still twisted my insides. And now with my vomit, I was even more nauseous.

I looked at a servant. I believed he was being instructed. Not out of his own initiative. Was it for the guys? For Cole? Vance?

Still, I couldn’t believe his hands could make someone bleed. They held me, slid across clean sheets of paper from romantic books, wiped away my tears, and could play the violin. They weren’t capable of killing anyone. They didn’t take lives.

It had to be a lie.

The atmosphere of that area became unbearable to breathe. It suffocated me. I analyzed the bodies again, noting that they were open, the flesh exposed, emitting a lethal odor. Missing teeth, cut-out tongues, pieces of limbs like fingers, and even two organs torn apart.

Oh, God.

I couldn’t bear another second, so I got up and headed outside. I vomited with every step I took. I cried while I could still breathe.

Jaxon was the first to ask if I was okay, but I couldn’t answer. It was a silly question. It didn’t make sense.

Was I okay?

Were they okay?

I walked quickly, after climbing the stairs, heading outside. I crouched with my back against a wall and breathed in as much air as my lungs could handle. But nothing worked.

And when I noticed that my skirt was stained with blood and remnants of vomit, my crying became painful.

“I don’t want you to get dirty, because everything here is rotten.”

I had gotten dirty.

But I couldn’t. I couldn’t accept it.

I refused to believe that this was Dante.

Yet, what ruled my heart was the fact that I would accept it, even if I believed it.

What made me vomit, cry, and tremble with fear was that I didn’t care about any of that because I wanted to believe that Dante wasn’t doing it out of malice. That maybe it wasn’t him. That he was broken and needed help. That I could help him.

I would keep holding his hands, even if they were carrying the blood of a thousand people.

And that made me dirty, sick, and a killer, just like him.

“I warned you.” Cole’s ominous voice pulled my eyes toward him. “You may not regret it now, but when you’re alone, teetering on death because of him, you’ll wish you had stayed in your ridiculous world.”

Cole threw more tissues at my face.

“Clean yourself up and get out of here without saying a word, because if I hear anything, I’ll rip your tongue out and give it as a gift to your family.”

I believed every damn word and ran as fast as I could.