He knew. He did. Gavin had told him it happened there. But knowing and seeing were different. It was physical confirmation.
It was a slap in the fucking face.
Something struck him as the two of them stood there, him trying to come to terms with what he was seeing, while Gabriella stood in silence, not questioning his reaction.
She knew about the explosion.
Of course she did.
Why wouldn't she know? Rumors ran rampant at the hospital. An explosion like that would've made the news.
"Are you okay?" she asked eventually, her hand on his arm.
"No," he admitted.
"Let's go get that drink," she said. "We can go around."
They crossed the street, and Dante kept his head down, his eyes trailing the sidewalk until they made it to the bar. Familiar faces greeted him, watching him with stunned looks.
He ignored them, motioning to a table. "Take a seat. I'll get our drinks."
"You don't know what I want."
"You look like a margarita kind of girl."
She scowled. "Really?"
"Fine," he said. "I take it back. What do you want?"
"A margarita."
Before he could respond, Gabriella skidded over to the booth to wait. Dante approached the bar, tucking in at the side where the bartender lurked.
"Galante," the man said, plastering on a smile. "Great to see you!"
"I'm sure," Dante muttered. "I'll take a margarita on the rocks and a Heineken."
"Coming right up."
The bartender made the drinks, refusing Dante's money when he tried to pay. He knew he should've been grateful for that, and back in the day he would've probably expected the special treatment, but it irked him now.
He threw the cash on top of the bar and walked away.
"Your margarita," he said, sliding it on the table in front of Gabriella before sitting across from her.
"Thank you," she said, offering a smile, one that felt a hell of a lot more genuine than the bartender's. "Guess your reputation precedes you everywhere."
He took a swig of his beer. "What makes you say that?"
"Everyone is staring at you with awe," she said, "but in that pretend-I'm-not-looking way that isn't really subtle at all."
"How do you know they're looking at me? Maybe they're looking at you."
She rolled her eyes as she sipped her margarita. "Why would they be looking at me?"
"Because you're beautiful," he said, that word making her blush. Huh. "Besides, I'm nobody special."
"That's not what I heard."
"Yeah, well, you shouldn't believe everything you hear. People like to talk, and none of it's true. It's nothing more than gossip."
"It's all false?"
"Yes."
"Huh. So, true or false—your father is mob boss Primo Galante."
"Alleged mob boss," Dante corrected her. "He's never been convicted of anything."
"You're involved in organized crime."
"True," Dante admitted, before saying, "allegedly."
"You were caught up in a violent turf war. You were kidnapped and assumed dead. Those people tortured you and almost killed you out of revenge."
"Oh, that's all true. Allegedly, anyway."
"Allegedly," she muttered. "So which part was false?"
"The part where they made me out to be a bad guy because of it."
"You think you're a good guy?"
"I know I am."
"Even though everything else is true?"
Dante regarded her. "I like to think what defines a man aren't his circumstances or his mistakes. What defines him are his intentions, and mine have always been good."
"That's deep," she said, continuing to sip her drink.
"So, I get it, you think I'm a bad guy…"
"Whoa, I never said you were a bad guy. I'm just riddling out where your head is."
"Moonlighting as a shrink again."
"Being a friend," she said. "And just for the record, you know, I didn't draw the short straw."
"What?"
"In the car, you insinuated I got stuck with you, but that's not true. I volunteered."
"Why would you do that?"
She shrugged. "Because you needed somebody. Everyone else was being all weird about it. I don't think it was you, really... I think it was your father. He barked orders and demanded things, and it freaked them out. Nobody wanted to be that person..."
"The person who killed Primo's kid."
"Yep," she said. "Because I gotta tell you, you looked bad."
"But yet you volunteered. Ballsy."
"I wasn't worried. I'm more worried now. You were fighting hard then, but now…"
"Are you saying I gave up?"
"More like you're currently in the process of shutting down."
"I've told you before—you don't know me."
"Oh, but I do now." Gabriella motioned between them. "Friends, remember?"
"Right, my mistake. How could I forget? Of course us being friends now means you know everything about me."
"I know you use sarcasm to hide how you're feeling."