Made Man Dante Page 5

  “I was just talking about when we used to run errands for this place back in the old days,” Marty said to Sal.

  “Oh geez, remember that? Those were the days, right Dante? We thought we were invincible back then,” Sal said.

  “But you weren’t,” big hair said. “Gia, I’m Mona. Sal’s wife, Marty’s sister, and Dante’s first kiss. Isn’t that right, Dante?” She smiled across the table at him as if she deserved an award.

  “Gimme a break, Mona,” Marty said. “I’m lucky you weren’t my first kiss the way you got around.”

  “Hey!” Sal said. “That’s my wife you’re talking about.” He then turned towards me and grinned. “So Gia, tell me more about you.”

  Mona elbowed him, and he straightened up and rubbed his arm dramatically.

  “She’s a Carlisi,” Marty said.

  “Really? I knew Carlo back in the day,” Sal said. “Good guy.”

  “Yeah, but not a goodfella,” Marty said. “Not that there’s a reason to hold that against him. He could’ve been made, but he gave it up.”

  “Lots of people give it up,” Mona said. “They’re not cut out for it. Look at our guy Dante here. He ran away to the Army.”

  “A lotta good that did him, right Dante?” Marty said. “They tossed your ass.”

  “I didn’t run away,” Dante said.

  “But you agree they tossed your ass.”

  Dante didn’t say anything, but I was dying to know more. I was literally at the edge of my seat, so happy that even if he didn’t want to open up, I was learning so much about him.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “He fucked up,” Sal said.

  “No, he was a hero,” Mona said. “Dante’s always been the strong silent type, but secretly he’s sensitive. I got it right, didn’t I?” She grinned as she leaned back in her chair, pleased with herself. “Dante enlisted because of what happened with Tony.”

  “Wow, Tony,” Marty said. “May he rest in peace.”

  “What happened to Tony?” I asked.

  The table got quiet. Even Mona looked down at her plate. Sal cleared his throat and put his arm around the back of my chair before he started speaking.

  “We were on our way back from an errand for the family, if you know what I mean. We were outta our league really, but Dante was being groomed so we got special consideration. Things went south and Tony took a bullet.”

  “She doesn’t need to hear about this,” Dante said.

  “He and Tony were tight. Tighter than us if you can believe that,” Marty said. “Dante enlisted the next day.”

  “But he came back,” Mona said.

  “I didn’t have a choice,” Dante said.

  “Dante here needs to realize how good he has it,” Marty said. “Not everyone is born with that silver spoon.”

  Several waiters appeared with food. I didn’t remember anyone ordering anything, but they all acted as if that was normal. They placed huge plates of chicken, pasta, and salad in the center of the table family style. Everyone began serving themselves. Dante made a plate with a sampling of everything at the table and handed it to me.

  “This will be the best Italian you’ve ever had,” he said, smiling. “Let me know if you want more of anything.”

  The rest of the night Marty cracked jokes and Sal flirted with everything in a skirt. I still had so many questions, but I was happy with what little I was able to learn. Deep down a part of me wanted proof that Dante really was a good guy, despite his being a goodfella. I needed to know I wasn’t just trying to convince myself of something because he saved me, and I got my confirmation of that.

  ***

  Dante seemed more at ease as Sonny drove us home. My mind spun with the details of the night. Of Dante’s being groomed, of him being born with a silver spoon, and of Dante’s running away to the Army. I wondered how true all of it was.

  Once we were back in the penthouse I followed him into the kitchen where he grabbed a couple bottles of water.

  “What happened in the Army?” I asked. “Is that where you got that scar?”

  “I’ve got lots of scars,” he said. “But the one on my chest, yes, I got that while I was away.”

  He uncapped his water bottle and took a long drink before leaning against the counter. His mind was churning. I could see he wasn’t sure how much he should say or whether he should say anything at all. I didn’t push, I stayed quiet and let him think while I sat on one of the counter stools.

  “They’re right, you know,” he said. “I did run away. Tony dying made everything too real. Before we were just fucking around and having fun, we didn’t realize what we were doing. Maybe they still don’t, but I did and still do.

  “This isn’t the kind of life anyone should want. Marty and I grew up with this. Sal kind of got roped in, but he’ll never be made. We did what we were told and thought we were invincible. Maybe we were, but Tony wasn’t.

  “I didn’t want this life. Joining the Army was the only way I saw to get out of it, but I was wrong. You know they test you? Well, they took me. I was already a killer then and they made me even more lethal. They made me even better at what I do. They taught me more about weapons, they taught me about bombs, they trained me to destroy my enemy. In the end, I couldn’t.”

  He looked down at the floor and was quiet. His face was soft and full of emotion, his eyes the color of a calm sea. I wanted to walk over and hold him and tell him everything was all right, but I needed to know what haunted him.

  “What happened?” I asked softly.

  “I was in Afghanistan. Mostly I was dismantling bombs, land mines, and such. The things I saw…” He shook his head and looked down as if reliving it all over again. “The scar. I was trying to save a child who was trapped under some debris from a building after a car bomb went off. I wasn’t thinking. I was careless. When I lifted the piece of the wall he was trapped under, an IED went off, killing him and wounding me.

  “I spent a week there until I was stable enough to handle the flight home. There’s still some debris in here,” he said as he touched his chest. “But they’d probably kill me if they tried to remove it all.”

  My jaw went slack. I couldn’t believe all he had gone through. Thinking about his cold stone face and frozen eyes when he rescued me at the house, I understood.

  “I was honorably discharged after that,” he said. “So some people call me a hero, but whatever. I didn’t do anything. If anything, I went against my orders.” He unbuttoned his shirt and stepped closer to me and brought my hand to his bare chest. “If you wait long enough, you’ll feel my heart doesn’t beat regularly anymore. It’ll skip and slow down, but they say I’m fine. There were plenty of other people out there who weren’t as lucky as me.”

  He pressed my hand to his chest just above the worst of the scar. The skin was smooth and warm, but I couldn’t help but think of all the hurt that was hidden underneath. Squeezing my hand tighter to him, I suddenly felt it, a series of rapid beats then a pause.

  Leaning in towards me, he brushed his lips against mine and I reached up to touch his face. He pressed his forehead against mine before kissing me again. His mouth was cold from the water, and the slow movement of his tongue as it slipped past my lips took my breath away. He stepped around from the counter, pushed my legs apart, and pulled me tight against him.

  His erection pressed against my stomach as his hands ran along my back and his lips wandered along my neck. I felt dizzy and wanted him more than anything. I pushed his jacket off his shoulders and he quickly removed it, dropping it and his shirt to the floor.

  His mouth claimed mine again and my arms wrapped around his body like they had a mind of their own. His back was so powerful and muscular, I ran my hand up it, feeling his strength. My finger caught on a bandage and I pulled away from him.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were hurt,” I said.

  “It’s nothing,” he said, kissing my neck.

  “Then why do you have a
bandage? Let me see it. I want to make sure you’re alright.”

  He stepped back. His eyes had changed and grown cold. What did I do? I thought to myself. Did I say something? Do something wrong?

  “The world is an interesting place,” he said. “People have a lot of different beliefs and as you grow older, you’ll take what you think sounds good and ignore the rest.” He reached behind and pulled the bandage off his back. “There are cultures who believe you carry the souls of the dead with you. These can be people you loved, but sometimes it’s those you wronged.”

  He turned around to throw the bandage into the trash, and I saw what it covered. He wasn’t injured or wounded, not physically at least. The bandage was over three new crows that had been added to his tattoo. Slowly, it dawned on me that crows symbolized death.

  “Your tattoo. The crows?” I said, unable to make much sense.

  “It’s late. Let’s go to bed.”

  He walked out of the kitchen, leaving me on the stool. I couldn’t move. The room spun. He didn’t say it, but he didn’t need to–each of those crows represented a death he was responsible for. There had to be hundreds of crows in different sizes on his back. Hundreds of people he had killed.

  But did that make him any different of a man than he was just a few minutes before? No. If anything, it showed that it wasn’t easy for him to do what he did. He wasn’t some cold-blooded killer, who took pleasure in the deaths he caused. It was just something he did well. When it came to being a hit man, a Soldier, he didn’t have a choice.

  Hopping down from the stool, I caught up to him in the hallway. I touched his back gently and he turned to look at me, his eyes gentle. As I opened my arms, he moved into my embrace and tucked his face into my neck. He inhaled deeply and his body relaxed against mine.

  “You’re right,” I said. “It’s been a long day. Let’s go to bed.”

  He smiled and picked me up, cradling me in his arms. As he carried me to the bedroom, I leaned my head against his chest and listened to his heartbeat. It was at that moment that I knew I was in love.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Dante

  Weeks had passed, and every day my highlight was seeing Gia’s smiling face each morning. The joy it brought me was only rivaled at night when I held her as she slept. But I never shared these things with her.

  I wanted her so badly that feeling her warm body against mine was almost torture. A torture I withstood by remaining dressed in bed while I mentally undressed her. She wasn’t ready though. Or maybe I was just making excuses for myself.

  Sitting in the living room, I nursed my coffee as the TV in the background recounted the day’s events. Gia came down the hall and into the living room. Her expression was serious.

  It didn’t matter how often I saw her, each time was like seeing that angel rising up from the subway once more. Her beauty, both inside and out, consumed me.

  With a worried yet determined expression, she stood at the edge of the living room in a conservative black dress that showed just enough skin to make a man go crazy. There wasn’t a thing about her I didn’t desire. But was it love?

  A man like me didn’t feel emotions, good or bad. It was how I was able to do my job so well. I spent a lifetime avoiding personal relationships, but each day my attachment to her grew. Maybe love was the one thing that could rescue me from this miserable life.

  “You look stunning, my angel,” I said with a grin that was too lustful. My cock responded by pushing against my pants, which made me grateful for her distance so she couldn’t see the effect she had on me. “Did you want to go somewhere?”

  “Yes, I’m going to my mother’s gravesite,” she said as she looked at her cell phone then fumbled to put it in her purse. “I haven’t been there in so long, and I miss her.”

  She was lying. It was my business to know when people weren’t telling the truth. The nervous twitches, the shifty eyes that wouldn’t meet mine, the way she kept looking at her phone were all tells.

  “I can take you,” I said, feeling even more protective of her. “We can leave in a few minutes.”

  “No. I have to go alone, Dante.”

  I became more suspicious. While I understood her desire for some time away, she was well aware of her situation, just as I was aware of how frightened those men still made her from their graves.

  “You can’t,” I said firmly. “You know the danger you’re in.”

  “I need time to myself,” she said. “I need to see Momma’s grave, and I need to finally grieve.”

  “You don’t need to be alone for any of that.”

  She sighed and turned towards the hall then stopped. Her eyes narrowed at me and her fists clenched. “How long will this last? How long do I have to be here?”

  “I thought you liked being here. With me,” I said, confused as to why she was attacking me.

  Did something happen? Did she realize a woman like her could do better than a killer like me?

  “That has nothing to do with it. I feel trapped. I need to get out. I spent my life wrapped in a fog, following what I believed I wanted. Now I’m in another fog. How long can you keep me here?”

  “As long as you’re in danger, you’ll be here under my protection. Do you understand that?”

  She was quiet for a moment, and I wondered if she knew what my orders were. Did she know I didn’t want her to leave? That I disregarded my orders and pushed off my search for her brother just to keep her close?

  “I feel like a prisoner, Dante. I can’t stay here forever in hiding. I need to go out. I need to meet other people and have a life. How much longer do I have to stay?”

  “Do you have any idea what you’re asking me?” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “Do you know what has to happen for you to be safe? Trust me, you don’t want to hear it.”

  “Tell me. Do you have to kill Terry? Is that it? Is that the only thing that will settle this war with that damned gang? His life?” she asked angrily.

  “As long as he’s alive, you’re in danger,” I said quietly. “I’ll do anything to make sure you’re safe. I’ll do anything to protect you.”

  “Including killing my brother?” she said, her voice rising hysterically. “You destroyed my home, and now you want to kill my brother, too? You really have no heart, do you? I thought I saw something in you. Something deep down, past your cold stare and hard expression. Obviously I was wrong. I thought I loved you! But how can I love someone who is a killer?”

  She stormed out of the living room in tears and repeatedly pressed the elevator button. I let her go. She was right, I was nothing more than a killer. My wanting her here was selfish. I wasn’t thinking of her, only myself.

  As she rode the elevator down, my cell phone buzzed on the cocktail table in front of me. I picked it up quickly, expecting her.

  “Gia?” I said.

  The voice on the other end of the call cleared his throat. “A friend of ours is gone,” he said.

  As I tried to recognize the voice, I opened up my laptop and began tracing the call. Within seconds, my foolproof software pinged cell towers as it looked for his phone’s signature. It turned up blank.

  “Who is this?” I demanded.

  “Just a friend of the family. You should’ve listened to your orders when you got them. I hope she’s worth it,” he said before the line went dead.

  Quickly changing the code, I bounced my unidentifiable signal from cell tower to cell tower, trying in vain to nab the last pulses of his call and trace where it originated.

  But as I stared at the laptop screen, I realized it didn’t matter who called or where he was. It wasn’t going to change his message—Robert, my mentor and Capo, was dead.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Gia

  Storming out of Dante’s penthouse wasn’t as satisfying since I had to wait for the elevator to arrive. I couldn’t believe he didn’t try to stop me. Why didn’t he come after me?

  I was being foolish. He did try to stop me. He reminded
me of the danger I was in, he offered to take me wherever I needed to go. Dante had done nothing but try to protect me, so why was I running away from him now?

  Riding the elevator down, I checked my phone for a signal and sighed when I didn’t have one. Terry had called fifteen minutes ago. He said he needed my help; nothing could stop me from helping him. Dante wouldn’t understand. He would probably think it was a set up, but Terry was my brother. He wouldn’t do something like that to me.

  Since he disappeared after the funeral, I had been expecting to hear that Terry was either dead or in jail. It seemed the only logical outcome for someone who had messed up his life so badly. Hearing his voice on the other end of the phone and knowing he was okay caught me off guard, but I was relieved he was okay.

  Exiting the building onto the wide sidewalk along Central Park West, I blended in with the crowd. Terry said he would meet me at the subway, which was only a block away.

  As I walked down the steps to reach the subway, the humid, musty steam from the trains engulfed me, reminding me of fog. When I reached the main platform, I saw Terry and I knew he saw me too, but he ignored me and boarded the waiting train.

  Racing down the cement platform to catch up with him, I barely made it onto the train before it left. Once the doors closed behind me, I looked around for Terry, but couldn’t find him. I moved further back through the cars, looking at every man to see if he was my brother in disguise, but no luck.

  After a few stops, someone knocked on the window near my seat. As I turned to look I saw Terry again, but once he had my attention, he ran away. Leave it to Terry to play games.

  Just as I was ready to give up and head back to Dante’s penthouse, I spotted Terry in a group of people just ahead of me. I followed him out of the subway and into the fresh air, but I lost him again.

  “This is ridiculous,” I muttered under my breath. “I should’ve listened to Dante. I should’ve told him the truth.”

  Clenching my fists, I thought about how badly I wanted to hit Terry. My brother was playing me. He was luring me somewhere, but where? I had enough of his bullshit. Just as I was ready to return to the depths of the subway, I spotted him about twenty feet away.