Page 12 of The Complete Truth Duet
Neither of them delayed in taking off down the hall. They knew what to do. We’d discussed it at length the day Savannah had moved in.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I clutched the silver star that hung around my neck. Nic had given it to me what felt like a million years earlier. “You gotta help me here, baby,” I begged to the heavens. “I really need you right now, Nic.”
As to be expected, my dead husband didn’t reply. And after a few deep breaths, I did what I always did: I pulled up my big-girl panties and went right back to unloading groceries, cool and calm, as if the devil himself weren’t about to knock on my door.
“Dante,” I greeted minutes later with a bright and entirely fake smile.
From behind his aviators, his sickening gaze traced over me. As far as he was concerned, since I had large breasts, a flat stomach, a round ass, and a functioning vagina, I was his for the taking. He didn’t care that I was Nic’s. He never had. Not the day after he’d found out Nic and I had gotten married and ripped my shirt off then sent me to the streets where he thought I belonged. Not the day he’d cornered me at the funeral home and kneed me so hard in the stomach that I’d thrown up. And definitely not on the five-year anniversary of Nic’s death, when he’d wandered into my bedroom, high on whatever the hell his drug of choice for the week had been, and beat the hell out of me. It was my punishment for getting his brother killed, or so he’d said as he’d stumbled out a few hours later.
Dante Guerrero owned my world. And every so often, he liked to pop up to make sure I couldn’t forget it.
I remained statue-still as he reached up and caught the end of one of my curls.
“Cora. It’s been a while,” he said, his gaze aimed at my chest. His lips were curled in what would have been a breathtaking smile on any other man.
I fought the urge to gag. Waving a hand out, I stepped away, my hair slipping through his fingers. “It has. Come on in.”
As he walked in, he shoved a hand into the pocket of his black slacks and pushed his Ray-Bans to the top of his head. “Where’s River?”
Every muscle in my body became taut as I shot my gaze over his shoulder to Marcos.
His lips were in a thin line that didn’t bode well for me. Neither did the almost imperceptible jerk of his chin ordering me to answer Dante.
It took two attempts before I could finally say the words. “She’s in her room.”
Dante winked as he strolled away.
Fear consumed me, but I didn’t let it show as I followed after him. “She’s probably sleeping.”
He ignored me, and when he reached her door, twisted the handle, and swung it open—not a single lock in place—I wanted to die.
But it was safer this way; the locks only pissed him off.
“Oh, hey, Dante,” River chirped, pulling one of her neon-green earbuds out.
Just as we’d planned, she’d dragged on a baggy hoodie and gathered her hair into a messy knot on the top of her head. A sigh of relief breezed from my lips when I saw Savannah’s bed blissfully empty.
“You look like shit,” he growled.
She crossed her legs at the ankle and wiggled her dirty sock-covered feet at him. “Well, when you live in a mansion like this, there’s not much need for a prom dress. Besides, not looking like shit,” she said, throwing him a pair of air quotes—yes…fucking air quotes, “costs money. And when you’re thirteen and your only potential income is from pedophiles, you learn real quick to be okay with looking like shit.”
I physically braced as Dante’s body swelled with anger.
“You little fucking—”
“Hey,” Marcos called, shoving me out of the way. “Leave the kid alone.” He reached into his back pocket, pulled his wallet out, and then threw a fistful of bills at River’s feet. “Get some goddamn clothes. And for fuck’s sake, take a shower.”
She cocked her head to the side and sniped, “Does that mean you’re gonna do something about fixing the water? Or should I use the cash to buy some new threads and a bucket to bathe in?”
Marcos glared.
Dante let out a string of expletives.
And I clenched my teeth, mentally locking her in that room the rest of her life.
Completely unfazed, she flashed them a smile, leaned forward to collect the money, tucked it in the front pocket of her hoodie, and then put her earbud back in. Yelling over the music, she said, “Great to see you again! Don’t be a stranger!”
“That little bitch!” Dante snarled as Marcos herded him out of the room.
My shoulders sagged as I hurried back down the hall to the living room, hoping like hell they’d follow after me.
