Chapter 189

I shivered.

I shoved my hands into my pockets, nervous.

Dante was making me nervous.

"This doesn’t make sense," I declared.

"All my cells breathe you. In my mind, this wouldn’t be any different."

My heart muscle faltered for milliseconds.

By the time I realized it, Dante had opened the door and gone downstairs.

My feet remained frozen in the grass. I still had traces of smoke from the fire in my lungs, making it hard to breathe properly. Or was it Dante who was stealing my oxygen and killing me little by little?

I had to brush away the small roots that were beginning to form. I couldn’t water them. I couldn’t give them space to grow.

I entered the house, with my mind in disarray.

I headed to the kitchen to drink a glass of water. The thirst was driving me crazy.

As soon as I arrived, Asher and Jaxon were lying on the couch.

Hawthorn was the first to lift his head and scan me.

"You didn’t die?"

I raised an eyebrow.

"Why would I die?"

"Wasn’t there a fire in your building? I thought Dante was finally going to kill you."

My mouth tightened.

"Did you expect that to happen?"

"Honestly, no. I like the chaos you cause."

His smile was extremely sincere and diabolical.

"Shut up, Asher," Jaxon growled at his friend. "Come watch Friends with us, Emília. Campbell and Van Doren should be here soon."

I grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it from the tap.

"I still can’t take you guys seriously for liking that show."

"Man, we’re cultured. We live for entertainment too. Or do you think our hobby is killing people?" Asher asked.

"Yes, I think so."

From his stoic expression, he hated my answer.

"You’re evil, Emília."

Cole walked into the room. He didn’t even bother to greet me. His focus went directly to the middle of Fish and Hawthorn, grabbing the remote and not caring if they had finished the movie they were watching.

"What episode are we on?" Van Doren asked, as if pissed off about something. But it was comical that he was stressed over a sitcom.

"Do you watch this every day?" I asked, walking toward the couch after walking around the island.

"Every Thursday," Jaxon answered. "It’s a tradition we have."

"Oh..." I leaned against the couch. "Does Dante watch too?"

"Why wouldn’t I watch?"

His voice broke through the room. He was without a t-shirt, as always, his pants low enough to show the finish of his abdomen with his thorn tattoo adding charm. Rachel followed him anxiously for something. As soon as I saw him grab her food, I understood why her tail was wagging.

"Doesn’t seem like your thing. You never laugh."

"Oh, really?"

"You only smile when you’re killing or making my life hell. But laughing isn’t something you do."

"Does that bother you?"

"Of course not."

There was a pause.

"But your laugh does."

"I thought my screams bothered you," I teased.

"Some, yes. But I know that one day, they’ll be more pleasant depending on how hard I’ll be taking you."

And I heard a small laugh from him.

Son of a bitch.

Dante was focused on feeding Rachel. She came up to me, wanting to climb up my legs.

I didn’t like much of the attention the dog gave me, but it was an impossible mission to get her off me.

"She likes you," Jaxon murmured. "Rachel was made to kill, but she never intended to do that to you."

"I don’t like her," I replied sharply, glaring at her. "I don’t like animals. Just Shakespeare."

"Your guinea pig?" I nodded, and he smiled. "You’re going to end up liking Rachel. She’s more docile than a guinea pig."

"I doubt it."

"Can you stop whispering secrets? I can hear everything."

Dante’s angry tone made Rachel pull away from me and run to her owner.

He looked at me hotly, making me slightly dizzy until his hands lay on Rachel’s back, stroking her. The dog lay next to him until she was satisfied with the affection and started eating.

"Damn, where’s Campbell?" Cole asked, annoyed, messing with his phone. "Why the hell isn’t he here? I’ve got other things to do."

"You guys are like a gang," I commented, extremely confused by the whole seemingly everyday situation.

They seemed normal.

"No. We’re Fifth Harmony," Asher mocked. "We went on hiatus, but now we’re back."

"They stopped being five. Now they’re four," I corrected.

"Damn," he swore. "Cole, kill yourself. We need to be only four."

A violent curse from Van Doren was enough to make Asher smile like a clown. He loved annoying his companions, and it was addictive to see how successful he was at it.

"While Vance doesn’t show up, do you guys want to start watching? I don’t think he cares," Jaxon suggested, and the guys seemed to agree. "Sit down, Gray. I’ll make space for you."

"She’s not sitting next to you," Dante growled, grabbing me by the waist and pulling me to the armchair on the left.

The shame of enjoying his touch hummed in my ear.

"You look like a dog peeing," Asher joked, and Faulkner just stared at him.

He shut up instantly.

I sat down next to him. His arm rested on the back of the chair, and his legs relaxed, spreading slightly. Dante examined me as I sighed heavily, and his mouth reached my ear.

"If you’re not comfortable, open up and lift."

My throat tightened.

"Huh?"

"Damn."

He didn’t wait for me to finish before grabbing my leg and positioning it on top of his. My body shifted, my hips turning in such a way that my ass almost went into his lap.

"Is that okay?" I nodded silently. "Great."

As soon as the show started, I tried to focus on the TV. But it was hard to concentrate because I could feel his warm touch spreading on my skin. Dante was gently massaging my thigh, his fingers playing in the area.

I was enjoying it.

I didn’t complain once because I was enjoying how he was affecting me.

I watched the guys laughing and getting upset when Vance arrived and sat in the middle of them.

They had a strange dynamic, but it was human. I liked that environment. How it almost felt like home.

It had been years since I felt I could have people around me who gave me any comfort. Since my parents died, I’d felt lonely in the rooms of the houses I’d lived in. But in this one, I was always filled with something.

However, they wanted my death, and I wanted the death of their leader.

It couldn’t work.

But Dante’s hand wandering on my leg made me believe otherwise.

And, I accepted, in those minutes,

how every cell in me was still addicted to that boy like it was four years ago.