Dante: Chapter 18

I rifle through the cupboards of the medical room as quickly as I can before someone catches me. When I open the cupboard above my head, a roll of bandages falls out, bouncing off my head onto the floor.

Dammit. I’m sure I saw some in here. I know I did because I wondered why the hell Dante even had them in his house. Chasing after the errant bandage, I wrack my brain to recall which cupboard they were in.

I’ve hardly been in this room lately. I don’t know if that’s because Dante’s men are no longer getting themselves into any scrapes that need my attention, or whether it has anything to do with Joey’s return almost three weeks ago and her protective older brother doesn’t want his injured men in the house. Whatever it is, I haven’t been using any of my nursing skills and I’m wondering exactly how I’m paying off my brother’s quarter of a million dollar debt. I spend my days reading or walking the grounds — and mostly avoiding Joey. But I spend every night in Dante’s bed and occasional afternoons in his office where he fucks me over and over again, no longer giving me any of the warmth or affection that I was becoming used to. Currently that seems to be the only service I provide and whenever that fact starts to make me feel uneasy, I’ve become an expert at pushing such thoughts away.

But when Dante asked me if I’d called the doctor to prescribe me some birth control, well, now I have some thoughts that I can’t push away no matter how hard I try.

Opening the small set of drawers beneath the locked medicine cabinet, I find the little pink boxes I’m looking for.

I take one out and stuff it into the pocket of my jeans. Now I just need to get out of here and reach a bathroom without getting busted.

I stare at the small piece of plastic in my hands and the two lines that are marked so clearly they may as well be flashing neon. I cover them with my hand, half suspecting Dante to be watching me on some hidden cameras.

I’m going to throw up, or pass out. Up until thirty seconds ago, I’d convinced myself my period was a week late because of stress and anxiety, or just one of those things. I mean I don’t track my cycles because I haven’t needed to. I haven’t had a boyfriend or even a friend with benefits for over two years. So I didn’t even notice it was late at first, not until Dante reminded me of the conversation we had three weeks ago. I remember it well because it was the same day that Joey came back. And I remember putting off the birth control because I had less than two weeks before my period was due. And that was the same day we had that stupid, frantic sex in his office too. He was supposed to get me the morning-after pill, but then Joey was here, and we had a fight, and we both forgot.

Stupid, stupid Kat!

I slip the test into my pocket and put my head in my hands. My heart is beating so fast it sounds like a galloping racehorse in my ears. Dante is going to think I tricked him into this. Or he’s going to kill me, or hand me over to his men now that I’m no longer any use to him. What if he forces me to have an abortion?

I jump up from the edge of the bath as my lunch decides to make a sudden and violent reappearance. With my head in the toilet, I heave out the entire contents of my stomach. When there’s nothing left, I sink to the floor and lean against the cool bath.

There is only one thing for it. I have to run.

It took me half an hour to calm down in the bathroom as I ran through so many scenarios in my head. I thought of every exit in this house and they are permanently manned by armed guards both inside and out. The grounds are patrolled twenty-four hours a day and the walls are way too high to scale. And the main gate is like a fortress. There is only one way out, even though it seems unthinkable, but what choice do I have? I have to make a deal with the demon witch who has done her best to make me feel as uncomfortable as possible for the past three weeks.

She’s sitting in the den, flicking through a glossy magazine when I find her. She looks up at me when I walk into the room, then rolls her eyes in annoyance and disgust before going back to reading.

“Can I ask you about something?” I say as I take a few steps closer.

“What?” she sighs heavily.

“Your offer? To help me get out of here? Does it still stand?”

That certainly piques her interest, and when she looks up at me again, her eyes are filled with mischief and delight. I swallow the ball of anxiety in my throat. I know I’m going to regret this.

“What changed your mind, kitty-kat?” she asks with a pop of one perfectly manicured eyebrow.

“I’m just tired of being your brother’s plaything,” I say with a shrug and all the indifference I can muster.

“Then yes, it still stands,” she says with a grin.

“So, what do we do?”

“Leave it with me. I have a guy who can get you some papers.”

“But how do we actually get out of here, Joey? You’re as trapped in here as I am.”

“Not quite, kitty-cat. Not quite,” she says with a knowing smile. “It might take me a couple of weeks, but I’ll have you out of here by the end of the month.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“And you won’t tell your brother about this?” I ask with a frown.

“Now, where would be the fun in that? By the time you’re gone, I’ll have no idea where you’re headed, and I’ll enjoy watching my big brother lose his mind for a few weeks, before he finds a new pet to keep him entertained.” She laughs wickedly.

I can’t imagine taking such glee from someone else’s misfortune, but I suppose I never grew up as a Moretti. I kind of feel sad for her in a way.

“Okay. So, you’re sure you can do this?”

“I’m sure. Trust me.”