hair at the nape of his neck, as she leaned down. A breath away, she hesitated, before kissing him.
Her lips were soft, the kiss gentle. It was sweet. So fucking sweet. He savored every second, making no move to deepen it. He'd let her have her way with him, let her do whatever she wanted, however she wanted it. All he knew was that being around her breathed life into him, and if he had his way, he'd kiss her forever.
But forever came way too soon for him, as ringing shattered the silence of the room. Dante's phone vibrated his pocket, shaking them out of the moment. Gabriella pulled away, and Dante groaned, his hands dropping from her hips.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the phone, glancing at the screen. Bert.
"What?" he answered.
"Yo, this son of a bitch hit me!"
Dante pinched the bridge of his nose. "So hit him back."
"I did!"
Noise erupted in the background.
Cursing. Glass breaking. People shouting.
Umberto's phone dropped, hitting something, the bang echoing through the line. He yelled, his words jumbled, but Dante got the message.
The fucker started a bar fight.
Not the first time.
Hanging up, Dante slipped his phone back into his pocket. He got to his feet, his hands framing Gabriella's face. He kissed her then, hard and passionate, but he didn't linger. Pulling away, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before heading for the door.
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"Probably to get punched again."
"Are you coming back?"
"I probably shouldn't."
"So I can expect you, then?"
He paused at the door, looking back at her. Her expression was earnest, none of the amusement he thought he'd see. It was an honest question. She wanted to know if he'd come back.
God, how he wished he could answer that the way he wanted. How he wished he could say fuck it, that he wasn't going anywhere. Part of him wanted to, but there was still that side of him trained to follow orders and obey commands.
"Make sure you lock your door after I'm gone," he said. "Keep yourself safe, Gabriella."
He looked away when disappointment clouded her face. Unlocking the door, he walked out, closing it behind him. He stood there in the dingy hallway until the locks jingled, the deadbolt turning. Glancing back, his gaze caught the peephole.
He could practically feel her eyes on him through it.
Chapter Eleven
"You can do this. You can do this. You can friggin do this."
Gabriella chanted the words under her breath as she hurried across the street in the crosswalk, the bright orange hand flashing at her, telling her to halt. She had no time for that, though. Not if she was going to do what she had planned.
Five-thirty in the evening. Rush hour traffic clogged the streets. She had an hour and a half before her shift was scheduled to start at the hospital. Three days in a row working twelve-hour stretches overnight with Cindy and the Grinch around. Oh, joy! Patients in the ICU required undivided attention, and Gabriella couldn't do that until she got something off of her chest. It was heavy, a weighted secret pressing down on her. She needed to let it out. She needed to tell somebody.
She wasn't religious, but desperation had her thinking about seeking out a priest.
One of those couldn't help her, though. A couple Hail Mary's wouldn't solve this problem.
Maybe what she needed was sanctuary, protection from whatever trouble this secret would invite into her world.
Gabriella approached the small cafe near the end of the block, her gaze scanning along the lettering on the fresh glass: Casato. The explosion had blown the windows out of the place, but it managed to escape most other damage, back up and running within a week.
Tables covered most of the space. Gabriella scanned them, looking for someone. Her stomach churned as her eyes fixed on a small two-seater table in the back corner, Gavin Amaro sitting alone, scribbling something in a notebook.
"You can do this," she whispered before stalking over to the table and sliding into the chair across from him.