Chapter 18

You’re not done licking until she pushes you off.

-Words of wisdom

Cobie

“Stupid. So stupid.”

I groaned inwardly as I tried to remember why it would be a bad idea to call Dante, or maybe even text him, and ask him what he was doing.

I shouldn’t care about what he is doing! Really, I shouldn’t!

But I did.

I really, really cared.

So much, in fact, that when I was in the grocery store, I almost sent him a picture of the new Oreos. This time they were peanut butter and jelly flavored.

Very gross sounding. But did that stop me from buying the damn things?

No.

In fact, I bought two!

I was so distracted as I sat in my car, the package of Oreos in my lap, that I wasn’t paying attention to the man that pulled up next to the bridge until he’d already blocked my way out of the parking lot.

I watched from my spot as a man got out of the truck, walked over to the side of the bridge, and tossed the bag down.

I didn’t know what made me not go another way, nor did I know why I watched instead of sending that text. I couldn’t really tell you what pull that was practically urging me to go, but I went.

The minute he pulled away, I pulled up where his truck had previously been parked.

The moment it was in park, I got out, locked the door, and hurried down the steep embankment that led to the river below.

My eyes scanned the area, looking for the blue bag, and I winced when I saw it floating in the river about ten yards downstream from where I was standing, and about four yards out from the bank.

I’d have to get wet to go get that bag.

But the inexplicable pull was there, urging me forward despite my fear of the water.

I didn’t know why I had a fear of water. It wasn’t like I’d had a trauma related to water, but I’d never really liked it.

Not ever.

But I didn’t let it stop me from walking down the bank. And eventually wading into the water.

I was just glad I could see down to the bottom. I don’t think I could’ve been able to wade in without seeing what I was doing.

Wading in up to my thighs—thank God I’d worn shorts today—I reached for the blue canvas bag and drug it toward me.

And that’s when I saw that the bag was moving.

Motherfucking moving.

I pulled it with me to the bank, then walked a few more yards before setting the bag down.

There, I crouched and unzipped the bag.

At first, I wasn’t sure what it was. The inside of the bag was wet, saturating the animal that lay inside.

At first, I thought it was a ferret because of its long gray body, but then I saw the paws, and instantly realized it was a cat.

Then I saw the kitty’s face and realized rather quickly that something was wrong with the poor little creature.

He didn’t look like he had a nose. The holes were there, but the ridge and tilt that usually signaled a cat’s nose were missing. His eyes were a little too far apart, and I didn’t know if it was due to his lack of nose, or if they actually were far apart.

Whatever he was, the poor thing was soaked, scared, and shivering.

“You poor little thing,” I cooed, pulling him out and placing his wet body against my chest.

The kitten gave a pitiful mewl and burrowed closer.

An hour later, I texted a picture of the little guy to Dante, instantly getting a response.

Dante (11:33 am): what made you go get the bag??

Me (11:34 am): It might’ve been due to the particular bag that he’d tossed in that gave it away.

Hell, it also might’ve been due to the face that he’d tossed it by getting out instead of straight out the window—which I knew he could’ve accomplished. I didn’t know. I was just glad he didn’t drown. I felt so bad. He’s still shaking. But look at his fur! It’s curly.

Dante (11:35 am): it’s cute. Mary says “mine.” Lol.

I grinned but placed the cat in a box in my passenger seat.

After stopping at the dollar store for kitten food and a litter box, I drove home.

Once I had him settled and sitting comfortably in my lap, I then started my paperwork that my job needed for me to start work in another week.

Six weeks was perfectly sufficient after having surgery…wasn’t it?

***

Paperwork done, and my new little kitty with a full belly lazing in the sunshine of my porch, I started to clean up the weeds in my flowerbeds.

I was so immersed in what I was doing that I didn’t hear the truck pull up at my curb and shut off.

Then again, that was fairly normal. I lived on a somewhat busy street, and cars came up and down this road all day long, twenty-four seven.

Just down the road was a bar, and there were times that I heard music blaring until all hours of the morning.

But that didn’t bother me much. I knew when I moved here that it was always like that. It had been when I was growing up, too.

That was one of the things about living downtown in the historical district. The nightlife was always around, celebrating something or other.

I ripped another weed out just as I heard someone’s voice behind me.

“You have a cat.”

I looked over to see Drake standing on the path that led up to my house. I’d been airing out the place since I hadn’t been there in over two weeks. Old places like mine—my grandfather’s—had a way of doing that, though.

If old places like mine weren’t lived in, then they started to smell musty. At least that’s the way I felt.

The cat had drifted out, drawn to the sunshine, and I’d allowed it. He wasn’t hurting anything.

I stiffened and turned to find Drake there, his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah.”

“It’s fucking ugly.”

I don’t know what made me so mad about hearing those words, but after hearing similar words in regard to him speaking about Mary, I was suddenly very mad.

“I think he’s adorable,” I snapped.

Drake’s eyebrows rose. “You’re mad.”

I crossed my arms. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here because you kicked me out of my house.”

I had.

While at Dante’s, I’d sent a certified letter to Drake saying he had exactly a month to move out of the house because I was putting it up for sale.

I hadn’t thought to check to see if he’d actually moved, though. Rafe and Dante had said they’d handle it, and I’d allowed it because I didn’t want to have anything to do with the mess that they’d created.

“I’m selling it to help pay for my bills,” I said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t have any choice. You were the one to point out that I should fight the cancer, weren’t you?”

Not altogether a lie. I did have medical bills rolling in, and the sale of my old house would mean that I wouldn’t have to live in debt for the next year as I worked to pay them off.

Then again, had I not known that Drake was doing something illegal at my place, I wouldn’t have kicked him out. I would’ve suffered in silence due to him being my best friend’s widower.

But he had been doing something bad, and though Dante had kept it on the down low, I knew that they’d found something substantial enough to warrant me kicking him out within a few days of finding out that he’d been doing something that I might not agree with.

“I think that’s a bullshit answer,” he countered. “Marianne told me you had a lot of money, thanks to your grandfather dying. This house would sell for upwards of a mil. You didn’t have to sell the one I was living in.”

“So, you wanted me to sell the one I was living in?” I countered right back.

His eyes narrowed. “A single woman doesn’t need a house like this. One that takes a lot of upkeep. A single woman needs a one-bedroom apartment with security so she doesn’t fear for her life.”

I shivered slightly as I took in his words.

He was staring at me like I was a nuisance. Like he was pissed off that I’d decided to go forward with the treatment.

Fucker.

“I love this house. This was the place that I grew up. The only place in the world that holds good memories for me. I’m not selling the house I’m living in, regardless of whether you want me to or not. You’re not my husband. You’re not even my friend. You’re my dead best friend’s husband. I’m sorry you were displaced, but I gave you sufficient time to move out and find another place. I’m sorry if you didn’t utilize that time wisely. I gave you what was required by law and then some.”

Drake narrowed his eyes. “You’re not my friend?”

“Drake, I don’t even know you. The only time I ever saw you was with Marianne, and even then, it was sparingly. To be honest, I felt like you hated me. You saw I was around, and immediately left the room. I think the most time we spent with each other was right after Marianne’s death, but that was only because I was helping you with funeral arrangements.”

The only contact we had was when I got the check from him each month for rent. We’d share a few words, maybe a short conversation, but that was it. There was nothing more to Drake and me.

“Why were you with Dante?”

I frowned.

“Why not?”

“I don’t like him.”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

“He and Marianne shared a fling. They had a baby together. A baby they conceived while we were still very much married. When she got sick, she came home, but that was only because she knew that I could afford the chemo treatments and he couldn’t.” He narrowed his eyes. “And now you’re with him. You were supposed to be my friend.”

“I met Dante six weeks ago. He helped me when I needed it most. He was a friend when I didn’t think I needed one. He’s a good man, and I don’t know what happened with Marianne and him. I’ve tried valiantly not to think about it. Yes, they do share a kid.” He knew that, right? “But from what I understand, it was Marianne that deceived him, and not the other way around. Dante never knew that Marianne was married, or he wouldn’t have done a single thing with her. I guarantee that.”

And I did.

I knew with all my heart and soul that Dante wouldn’t have slept with Marianne had he known the full details of what had taken place. He would’ve stayed far, far away from her.

Yet, he hadn’t.

Which led me to believe that Marianne hadn’t shared a single detail about her relationship with Drake.

Hell, I wasn’t even sure she shared anything about herself even after he knew Marianne was married.

“Dante’s not a good guy.”

My brows rose.

“You don’t believe me?” he asked. “He’s not. I don’t think he should have custody of that kid.”

That kid being Dante’s child, Mary, whom he shared with Marianne.

“Why?” I asked.

I was truly curious now.

I’d seen Dante with Mary.

I knew damn well that he was a good father.

“He hurt people.”

I wanted to laugh at that pathetic excuse.

“Why?”

“I heard things about what he did to the people that tried to hurt his family. He made his own sister kill herself.”

I narrowed my eyes. “He most certainly did not.”

“He most certainly did. Did you know that his sister was the one who was driving the car that day that his family died?”

“Yes.”

“Did you know that she was on drugs?”

I clenched my jaw.

“He knew that she was a few days later. I was in town that day that he confronted her in the hospital. I was there with Marianne.”

I didn’t show my feelings at all.

I kept my eyes straight forward and refused to say anything.

“He yelled at her and made her cry. It’s just convenient that she killed herself, right?”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

“My sister killed herself because she was raped for years by a boy who came over every weekend to spend time with my brother,” Dante said. “She was upset that she’d killed my family, but I, in no way, shape or form, yelled at her because of that. I was too lost in my own goddamn grief to ever say anything to her. It took me six months to finally talk to my family. I was yelling at the hospital because they wouldn’t let me see my children. I needed confirmation that they were actually gone.”

I turned to find Dante standing in my front entryway, staring daggers at Drake.

“What are you doing in her house?” Drake snarled. “Get out!”

Dante didn’t bother to move.

“This is unforgivable, she’s mine.”

My brows rose at that, and at first, I thought he was talking about Mary. Until I felt Dante’s hand circle my hip.

“She’s mine,” he countered. “Whether you like it or not.”

I didn’t know what in the hell was going on, but I could tell whatever it was, Drake didn’t like it. Not at all.

“Wrong move, D.”

“Right move, Drake.”

I blinked, looked up at Dante in question, and heard the angry growl come from the man in front of me.

Dante dropped his eyes to mine and then turned to watch Drake—who was stalking angrily down the length of my walkway.

He got into his truck, slammed the door closed, and then roared off before I could think of saying goodbye.

Not that I would’ve said goodbye.

But still.

I waited until Drake was farther down the road before turning to Dante. “When did you get here?”

I hadn’t heard him pull up, either.

Dante’s lips twitched.

“Mary wanted to see the kitty.”

I grinned and turned in his arms to see Mary on the porch petting my new friend.

I shrugged Dante’s arm away and crouched next to Mary, who had my new kitty by the torso and was burying her face into his neck.

“You like my kitty, Mary?” I questioned my favorite girl.

Mary looked up and smiled. “Yes!”

Mary knew a few words, two of those she pronounced really well. ‘Yes’ and ‘no.’

I giggled and ran my hand over Mary’s blonde ringlets.

“What should we name him?”

Mary closed her pretty blue eyes and then opened them again.

“Cacker.”

“Cracker?”

Then she shook her head. “Wacker?”

I bit my lip. “Ummm…”

“Yes!”

“Yes, what?”

“Yum!”

I started to laugh. “You want to name him Yum?”

“Yum-Yum.” She nodded her head in confirmation.

I snorted and turned to look up at Dante, who was staring down at his child and me with a bemused smile on his face. “Probably shouldn’t have asked her.”

“I like Yum-Yum,” I said. “Yum-Yum it is, right, Mary?”

That’s when I got a load of Mary’s shirt.

My brows furrowed.

“Ummm, what is she wearing?”

Dante grinned and bent down as he pulled the shirt away from Mary’s chest so I could get the full view of the shirt.

“Travis’s son, TJ, used to wear this shirt. But it got too small for him, and Mary just had to have it. I couldn’t convince her to put on something else, so we’re wearing it.”

I started to laugh, my eyes skimming over the shirt one more time.

If you think I’m cute now, just wait until my beard comes in.

“Ahhh,” I laughed, wiping tears from my eyes.

Dante’s smile was heart stopping.

That night, things for us changed.

Became charged.

No longer was it just us being friends. That night, what we had turned into more, and neither of us realized it until it was too late.