Chapter 29 Out there
Serena's POV
I had long lost track of time as I had been sitting there for what felt like ages. Something just didn't sit right.
I had been sitting on the pavement by the side of Dante's penthouse for what felt like ages, the cold had begun seeping through my jeans no matter how I shifted.
It wasn't long before my head dropped low and rested on my hand as I placed my elbow on my knee. I began dozing, dropping in out of sleep as my eyes felt heavy from all the hospital stress and the worry building in my gut.
I felt so alone, so tired. The men at the door didn't bother coming close, and I couldn't blame them. I couldn't sleep inside, not with that empty feeling, wondering where he was, if he was okay.
A shiver ran down my spine suddenly, not from the cold though, but from the shift in the air to my right. I could feel the presence of someone settling to my side. I lifted my head quickly, expecting to see one of the guards.
But no, it wasn't any of them. It was Dante.
I blinked hard, more than usual as my eyes remained locked on his. It nearly felt like it was some sort of hallucination from the painkillers.
"Dante? When did you get back?" I asked when I finally got my voice back.
But he didn't answer right away. He just lowered his head more, bringing his hands up to rub his face roughly.
He dragged his palms down his face with his eyes squeezed shut like whatever he had in mind was way too heavy for him.
Is there anything too heavy for Dante?
I shook my head as the thought passed by. Nah, not the Dante I knew anyway.
But as I watched his little show, my eyes began to notice details I hadn't seen before. He looked pretty banged up. His hair which was usually slicked perfectly was now in a mess and sticking at all sides.
His tie hung loosely around his neck and his maroon suit had dirt stains on various spots and wrinkled badly. His trousers even had tear marks at the knees and shin.
"What happened?" I asked him, louder this time around. I instinctively sat straighter and placed a hand on his knee. "You look like hell."
He didn't respond, just kept staring at the ground, then a few seconds later, he finally met my eyes. His gray eyes that usually looked wild now held a tint of exhaustion behind them. "I'm fine. Just a little issue," he replied, but I knew he was lying.
"A little issue?" I nearly yelled as I leaned in closer, scanning him from head to toe again. "You look like you got dragged through dirt. Tell me, what happened?"
He waved a hand weakly, brushing me off. "Forget it. How are you feeling? Why are you out here instead of inside?"
I blinked, leaning back slightly, j was nowhere near being convinced. "I'm okay," I said anyway. "My head hurts a bit, but the doctor said it's mild. No big deal."
"You sure? No dizziness or anything?"
"Dante—stop. I'm fine. But you—"
"Why not at the hospital? I left you there for a reason," he cut in gently.
I sighed, dropping my hand from his knee as I turned away from him.
"I woke up and found out you weren't there. You said you'd come back. So I asked the nurses and they said you never showed up since then. So I got worried, came home to check if you were here but the guards said there had been no sign of you all night," I explained quickly.
He nodded slowly, like he was taking it all in. "Yeah. Shit came up."
"Okay? That's what I mean—what shit? Tell me."
"Doesn't matter," he replied bluntly. "You're the one who got knocked out, you should be resting."
"I was resting. Out here, waiting for you." I grabbed his arm gently as I turned to him again. "Come on, what happened?"
He pulled back slightly. "Told you, little issue. How's your head? Did the doctor give you any further medication?"
"Yes, I took them. Stop changing the topic."
"I'm not. I'm just worried about you."
"And I'm worried about you!" I yelled, breaking character slightly there. Dante leaned back, probably taken back by my outburst, but there was no going back now. "You look like you went through war."
He rubbed his face again. "Drop it, piccola. Let's get you inside," he said and grabbed my hand, positioning to get up.
"No," I replied, pulling my hand free. "Tell me first."
"Serena—"
"Dante," I cut in.
We stared at each other for a full minute. He didn't want to tell me, I could tell. But I wasn't backing off either.
Finally, he sighed heavily. "Fine. But you're overreacting though."
I lifted his other hand in mine and held it between my palms gently. Then looked him straight in the eyes. "There's no point protecting me if you won't let me in."
He took a deep breath, held it then let it out slowly. "Okay, I got run over by someone earlier tonight."
I gasped sharply, throwing a hand over my widened mouth. "What? Oh my God!" I screamed, lifting his arm instinctively, checking for bruises, bandages, or anything at all. "Are you hurt? Where?" I asked loudly.
"I'm fine." He pulled his sleeve up slightly, showing off a few fresh and purple bruises, but not enough to panic. "I managed to get out in time. Before he started firing," he explained.
"Firing?" I gasped again, throwing a hand over my mouth for the second time. "He shot at you? After running you over?"
He nodded grimly. "Yeah. But I recovered and returned fire, chasing him off."
"Did you see who?"
"Didn't catch his face. But it's a Romano. Caught their mark on the bullets."
I lowered my head, feeling down all of a sudden. "This... this is all my fault."
"What? No—"
"Yes." I cut in, feeling the tears stinging at the back of my eyes. "Everything. The attacks, the danger, it's because of me. Marco's death started it all. Romanos want me dead or whatever, and now you're getting rammed off the road? Your men dying? It's my mess spilling over."
"Stop that." He said in a firm voice. Then squeezed my shoulder softly with a hand. "Not your fault. These pricks were gunning for trouble anyway. You're just the excuse they are using."
"But I am the excuse!" I yelled again. "If I hadn't shot Marco, hadn't run into you. None of this, the warehouses burned, men dying, and now you almost dying? I've caused more harm than good. Every day I'm here, it's been blood after blood."
"Bullshit," I heard him say from my side. "You think they'd back off if you weren't here? There's always going to be a power struggle. Blame them, not you."
"But if I leave—"
"Serena." He grabbed either side of my cheeks with his palms. Then made me look him in his eyes. "You're not going anywhere. From now on, we don't just protect you. We guard you."
I put my hands over his, holding them there. "Thank you," I whispered.
He nodded once, brushing my cheeks with his thumb. "Come on inside. Let's rest."
We stood together and he led me towards the door. As we got under a bright light, something caught my eye again.
An abstract part of his dressing, but one that couldn't have been caused by the hit.