The Informant

Chater Nineteen

Without hesitation I answered, "yes." Even though it was a barely there whisper he could see and here the resolution in my demeanor. Without a shadow of a doubt I trusted this man, deep in my bones, I had from the start.

He nodded once, and claimed my lips sweetly. Sweeping his tongue across my bottom lip, asking for entrance, I submitted immediately, his lips on mine always brought me to my knees, I'd do anything for him, just as I knew he would for Julian and I. I felt it, like never before. The feeling so alien to me, yet so powerful.

He pulled back slowly, dropping smaller kisses on my lips as he did. Neither of us wanting to stop, we were drawn to each other like magnets and steel. My Achilles heel. "Is late, you're exhausted, sì." It wasn't a question, although it never was with him. He knew, he read me like a clock, swiftly and efficiently.

He rose, my hand in his as he pulled me up easily, he spoke to his father in Italian and I hadn't wish I'd known their language more in my life than I had these last few days. He walked me to his bedroom, and tucked me into his bed. Placing a kiss on my forehead, then resting his against the very same spot he'd kissed. "Sleep, mia bella."

I loved when he called me that, or anything he called me in Italian. He could very well be calling me a potato and I'd love it. "You aren't coming to bed with me?" I asked, it sounded pouty, and I didn't care, because it was.

"In un minuto, in a minute, amore. Just need to talk with my father first." He sounded so sad, as if he felt what I felt, as if we shared the same feelings. But I knew he felt guilt, guilt for dragging me into this mess. And I wanted him to know I didn't blame him, I couldn't blame him.

I reached up and kissed his perfect lush lips. "Stop being so hard on yourself, I don't blame you, Dantè. Not with a single fiber of my being. Please know that." My voice was sluggish, just as lethargic as I felt. I really was exhausted. And it definitely wasn't because of anything we'd done today because we'd done absolutely nothing. But last night? All night last night? Now that was a different story. He wore me out, and knew it too.

His cocky grin made an annoyingly sexy appearance, "Sleep, bambino. Because I will want you again later tonight." He winked down at me and my entire being ignited. My body burning for him as it always did when he spoke to me like that. He kissed me once more on my nose and left.

*Dante*

I didn't want to leave her there, I wanted to strip her bare, crawl into that damn bed behind her and listen to her soft breathing as she crept into a deep slumber. Like I had been doing every single night that we've been locked in this ever shrinking apartment of mine. It wasn't small by any means, but being here constantly, waiting those bastards out like cowards was started to make everything feel like it was sinking in on me.

I hated the way she felt, hated her being away from her child. She didn't deserve any of this, she didn't deserve this life pushed upon her. She deserved far better than this life, than me. Julian too. But I didn't have the strength to let her go. I couldn't. I wouldn't let her go. Not now. I kept telling myself it was because I wouldn't dare hurt her like that. But if I were being completely honest it was because I was a selfish bastard. I wouldn't let her go because I felt as if I couldn't live without her. Il mio unico vero amore. She'd wrapped herself so tight around my heart, it hurt watching her suffer. I couldn't take the pain I saw in her face any longer.

My father was waiting at my large, rectangular dinning table. My mother already fast asleep, it was late. And everyone was beginning to feel restless being cooped up for two weeks straight. I poured myself a glass of gin, my father his own glass of amber before I spoke.

"I can't take seeing her like that anymore, papa. I need to do something." I slid his drink to him as I sat across from him. My voice was hushed as not to wake the women. Out of respect, and a little out of secrecy. Because I knew both women well, well enough to know they'd object to what I had in mind.

My father was a man of little words, he grunted. "Your Mama too. She's sick with worry."

I shook my head becoming more pissed as I thought about it. More angry with myself for doing as I'm told and waiting it out like a coward, "I have a plan. It's gonna piss the guys off. They're waiting for them to make a move first, to seal their fate. But they aren't stupid, they know they're being watched as well. It's a stand-off right now and no one is making the first move."

He grunted his annoyance once again and asked "Your plan, boy?"

I'd been thinking of something to get the ball rolling for a week now, but every time I had suggested leaving, my guys below gave strict orders to stay put and wait it out. But I, along with everyone else was done waiting. Done being kept like scared animals in a cage. Fuck. That. Shit.

It was finally go time, and fuck me but I couldn't be more pumped for it.