My head tilts as we sit down next to each other. My heart is beating as I worry about the bodies we might be leaving behind.
I don’t want to make my friends’ killers.
How am I going to explain to Dante that my friend killed his cousin?
“What other methods, Becs?”
“He wants to fuck me.” She says it like it’s disgusting, which to Becca it probably is.
There hasn’t been anyone since Logan and in her mind she never wants anyone else. She doesn’t see the whole life before her. She’s stuck in the past that none of us have been able to get her out of.
The way she swallows, tucking her hand behind her ear like she can’t quite believe what she’s about to say, “So I seduced him. Got him into my bed…where he is now.”
“In your bed how, Becca?”
She killed him. She killed him and it’s my fault. Dante is going to find his cousin dead and know that it’s my fault.
This is definitely not the new start I was talking about.
“He’s currently bound because I told him I was into rope play…and I gagged him.” My eyes widen and she groans, “Oh fuck he’s going to kill me.” her head hits her hands as I stare at her, feeling the way that my lips pull into a smirk.
At least he’s not dead.
As we take off I can’t help but start laughing thinking Francesco, serious and intense bound and gagged in Becca’s bedroom. Becca who has all white silk sheets and sheer canopies having tattooed Francesco naked and bound, tied up for someone to find.
He was going to leave a trail of bodies.
I wish I could text Dante to take a picture for me.
She looks at me like I’m crazy as we start to rise up in the air. And maybe I am because as soon as Dante finds out that Francesco was bound and gagged he’s going to understand that I left him on purpose.
“Do you want to see a picture?”
Becca pulls out her phone as she shows me a zoomed in image of Francesco on his knees.
What looks like a pair of yellow lace panties are in his mouth, a silk cord from a robe holding them in. His eyes are slits, the anger oozing off of him as the ropes are twirled between the tattoos of his torso, his hands behind his back, attached to what I see are ropes that go up his legs to his ankles.
Her bed of white silk with heart shaped pink pillows, trimmed in lace are such a distinct look with the mafia enforcer against them.
“I told him the only way I would blow him was if he was tied up. Men will do anything to get their dicks wet.”
But Becca is protecting Francesco.
I can tell from how she cropped the photo so I can’t see all of him. She wants that piece to herself and I don’t comment on it. Becca hasn’t wanted anyone since Logan and as much as I’d like to tell her that Francesco is a made man in the mafia and probably the worst sort of person to be attracted to, I won’t steal whatever sense of joy or attraction she feels for him.
It’s only 6AM and I’m sure that we are running on a shorter time table than originally planned now. But there is nothing to be done about that. We’ll get to Vegas and this will all have to work out.
There is no other choice but this working out.
31DANTE
“Dante!”
My eyes pull open as I hear my name being called. Blearily, I look around, trying to make sense of what is a dream and what is real.
The bed is empty, cool space fills my arms to make me aware Ilaria has been missing from them for enough time that her body heat has vanished from them.
My mind is slow as it tries to wake up, not enough sleep and dreams filled with my fiancée and her pretty lips wrapped around my cock. The way she licked my cum off her fingers the other night, having me ache to see her taste me from the source.
“DANTE!”
The door to the room flies open as Francesco stands there, a gun in his hand as he looks around my room, breathing deeply as if he had just run a marathon. His shirt is half unbuttoned, hair is unstyled as a sort of mania settles around us.
Something is very wrong.
“Your bitch of a fiancée and her group of psychotic friends escaped. They’re already in Vegas. Get up. The plane is waiting.”
He is tucking his gun away as I reach for my phone, frowning when I see it’s unplugged and dead.
“Call her a bitch again and I’ll finally get around to killing you.” I threaten, trying to make sense of what is going on.
What did Ilaria do?
She is missing from bed but could she really have gone to Vegas without us? After the day we had together?
“What are you talking about?” I ask, trying to make sense of something that is not making any sense at all.
