Authors: Eve Berlin

Tags: #Romance, #Erotica, #Adult, #Legal, #Fiction

Desire's Edge (29 page)

BOOK: Desire's Edge

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She reached for a tissue from the box on her nightstand, blew her nose, wiped her eyes. But it was useless; the tears kept coming. Pouring down her face. And soon she was sobbing, long, drawn-out sobs, a terrible keening that came from deep in her chest, her body.

She wrapped her arms around herself, held on tight. But it was only Dante’s arms that would comfort her. She was lost without him. And she would never have him. Never. Not really. Not in the true and permanent way she wanted, for the first time in her life.

The old feelings of not being good enough, deserving enough, for love came flooding back. All of the old issues created by her cold and distant parents. She’d never been able to please them. To get them to notice her, unless they were being disapproving. And no matter what she did, even choosing to go to law school because they wanted her to, giving up her art—other than the one or two paintings she allowed herself each year—it wasn’t enough.

She obviously wasn’t enough for Dante, either.

But no, that was her old self talking. Anger flooded her again.

He
wasn’t enough for
her
. Not if he refused to acknowledge his feelings for her. Not if he couldn’t love her. Didn’t she deserve that, damn it?

Still, pain poured through her system like a heavy weight she felt in her lungs, her arms and legs. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t think straight. All she could think of was Dante’s face, his dark eyes shuttered, his features taut, as she waited for him to speak. To stop her from leaving, even though she’d told him not to. All she could feel was loss and anger, and the terrible, sharp aching in her heart.

She’d never experienced a broken heart before. She hadn’t ever allowed anyone to get close enough to really hurt her. She’d had no idea it would hurt so much. That it would feel as if her heart were made of glass, and had shattered into a thousand pieces, each one piercing her, burrowing deep.

The tears turned to sobs once more. They wrenched their way out of her, twisting in her chest before they tore from her open mouth. Unbelievable pain. Unbelievable sadness.

The sun was lowering outside her window when she blinked her way back to awareness. Late afternoon. She’d been there for hours. She felt worn-out. Drained. Sick to her stomach. She knew she had to get out of bed, drink some water. Wash her face.

Her eyes, her cheeks, felt swollen, tender to the touch. She inhaled on a sigh. How had she let this happen to her?

She would never let this happen again. She didn’t know how she was going to survive this. But this would be the last time.

The tears started once more. Unbearable, the hard heat of them on her cheeks, the small sobs that wracked her aching chest. How could one person have so many tears inside them? But even that thought came as if from a great distance, her mind blurred with pain.

She tried to swallow the tears down, to fight them. But she couldn’t do it. She rolled into a ball, letting them fall, mindless in her misery. Eventually, she slept.

She dreamed of Dante. His apartment. It was filled with sunlight that seemed to come from everywhere, golden and sweet. He came up behind her, and she sensed rather than saw him. She knew the feel of his arms around her waist, knew the lovely strength of him as he pulled her into his body.

“This is what you should be doing, Kara,” he said.

Yes,
she thought. Being with him . . .

Before her was an easel, with a half-done painting on it, and she held a brush in her hand. It was the view of Elliott Bay from his window, blues and greens, sunlight piercing the fog. The view from
their
window.

Lovely.

But she wasn’t painting anymore. Not really. And she wasn’t with Dante, either, was she?

Everything went dark, empty. It was as though she was falling, into an empty space, containing . . . nothing.

The dark, the nothingness, drew around her, closing in. Seeping inside her. She called out for him, “Dante!”

But he wasn’t there.

He never would be.

“No,” she muttered past the pain.

“No!”

She woke in the dark, shivering from the dampness on her skin, knowing it bone deep.

It was over.

Dante stood staring out the long bank of windows, his gaze on the tiny, twinkling lights that were the boats docked in Elliott Bay below his apartment. He was mostly numb. He had been since Kara left that morning.

Okay, that was a lie. Maybe a part of him was numb. The other part was torn apart, as if he’d been through a paper shredder. Raw and hurting like hell. That part of him was fucking desperate.

He ran his fingers over the sharp stubble on his chin, around the back of his stiff neck.

He was stiff all over. He’d tried to lie down on the couch, exhausted, but he was too edgy to hold still for long. He hadn’t slept for one moment after she’d left, and had had only a few hours of sleep before then. But it wasn’t the lack of sleep that was the worst of it, that made him hurt all over. It was the lack of
Kara
. Knowing she was gone.

He was . . . bereft. Angry. Angry that she’d left. Angry that he cared so fucking much. Angry at the bitter sense of helplessness that moved through him like a dark sludge in his veins. He was helpless to change things for Kara. To change that basic part of himself the way he’d need to in order to give her what she deserved. He was helpless in loving her. There wasn’t a damn thing he could do about that. Fucking helpless.

He hated that more than anything. Always had. He’d hated it when he’d been powerless to do anything to make his mother’s life better. Hated when he’d been left feeling it so completely after Erin had died.

He’d figured out long ago that the way to avoid feeling this horrible fucking lack of power was to
always
be in control. Responsible. It made him feel some sense of his own personal power. As if what he did mattered in the world, even if it was only at work, or in the realm of BDSM. As if nothing he didn’t expect could happen because he had his life all neatly pinned down.

But somewhere in the back of his mind, he’d known it was a convenient half lie. That all the control in the world, the lie itself, was never going to make him feel whole. And, not knowing what else to do about it, he’d let it be. Let himself live the lie.

Kara had exposed him. To himself, anyway. He hadn’t been able to expose his truth to her. The truth that he loved her. That the only thing that would ever make him whole was loving her.

The idea was simply too much to handle. Especially now that she’d made it so clear she didn’t want to be with him. That he’d fucked it up. Exactly as he knew he would.

He started to pace, the dark sky, the glow of the streetlights, moving past the edge of his vision in a blur.

He felt . . . overwhelmed by this. For the first time in his adult life, he wasn’t sure he could handle this by himself.

The only person he really wanted to talk to about it was Kara. But that was impossible. He knew she wouldn’t see him, that he was the last person she wanted to see right now, and he couldn’t blame her.

Time to turn to his closest friend. He and Alec didn’t discuss emotional stuff very often. They’d never gotten too deep. The closest they’d come was when Alec had been losing his mind over Dylan. But that had been all about Alec revealing himself. Dante never had. He wasn’t certain he knew how.

But hell, it had to be better than this endless pacing, this endless cycle of one thought after another racing through his head, only to leave him in the same sorry place.

Maybe Alec could give him some perspective. Help him put his head back together again.

He moved to the console table in the foyer, where his cell phone was plugged into the charger. He pulled the cord out and dialed Alec’s number.

“Hello.”

“Alec, it’s Dante.”

“Hey, what’s up? I’ve hardly heard from you lately. I figured you’d check in eventually after we ran into you the other night.”

“Yeah, about that . . .”

Christ, where to start? How did people do this?

“What’s going on, Dante?” Alec asked. “And don’t tell me it’s nothing because I can hear it in your voice.”

“Ever the intuitive dom.”

“Yep. So spill.”

He sighed, started pacing again. “Look, can you meet me for a drink?”

“Now? Dylan and I are just finishing dinner.”

“Yes, now. Please. I’m sorry about dinner, but I . . . Fuck, can you just do it?”

“Yes. Sure. Of course. Tell me where you want to meet.”

“The Back Room? Do you know where it is?” It was a small dive bar close to his building. He knew it would be quiet. That he’d be unlikely to run into anyone from work there, anyone they knew from the club scene.

“I’ll find it. Give me about forty-five minutes.”

“Okay. Okay.”

They hung up and Dante went to take a quick shower, something he’d been avoiding all day. There were too many memories of Kara in there, her sleek body surrounded by steam. Kara in his white dress shirt, her skin nearly as pale as the shirt, but her cheeks pink, her eyes glittering silver and gold with desire. Beautiful. Stunning. He’d had plenty of other women in there. But Kara was the only one who really mattered.

He wasn’t sure what that said about him. He didn’t exactly like what it implied.

It wasn’t long before he was out the door. He decided to walk the six blocks to the bar. He needed to cool off, to stretch his legs. To work off some of this unbearable tension.

It had rained again. The streets were damp, reflecting watery images of the streetlights, the neon from some of the restaurants and storefronts.

He felt like that. Blurred. Distorted. He didn’t like it one bit.

Alec was already at the bar when he arrived, and Dante was grateful not to have to sit there, nursing a drink and his own thoughts. He couldn’t stand to be in his own head one more fucking minute.

“Alec, hey.”

“Hi. I ordered you a shot of Chivas on the rocks. I figured we’d save the good stuff for when you’re more yourself.”

Dante slid onto the stool next to Alec. “That obvious, huh?”

“Glaringly. To me, anyway.”

Dante wrapped his hands around the glass, took a sip, set it back on the bar. Stared at it.

Alec was quiet next to him, sipping at his drink. Dante knew Alec well enough to know he’d sit there all night if that was what it took.

He swallowed another slug of the cold whiskey, tried to savor the burn as it went down his throat. But Alec was right; he couldn’t really enjoy it. Not tonight.

“So . . .” Dante started. “Christ, I don’t know how to do this. Talk. Really talk.”

“It’s a little weird, but you get used to it,” Alec said, a small teasing note in his voice.

“I’d rather not.”

Alec shrugged. “I thought so, too. Before Dylan.”

“How is she?” Dante asked.

“She’s great. Amazing. But you’re changing the subject.”

Dante nodded, smiling grimly. “Yeah.”

He belted down the last of his drink, the ice cubes hitting his teeth. He waved the bartender over and ordered another.

“This must be serious,” Alec said quietly.

“It is.” He paused. “So . . . I think I’m in love with Kara.”

“That
is
serious.”

Dante took a breath, held it in his lungs for several moments, still staring at his glass. “Yes, it is. And that’s bullshit. I don’t
think
I’m in love with her. I am. So, what the hell do I do, Alec?”

He looked up at his friend, wanting—needing—an answer.

“What do you want to do?”

“Be with her. Even if it scares the shit out of me. Even if I’m convinced I can’t do a relationship justice.”

“I used to think the same thing.”

“I don’t know if you had as much reason as I do,” Dante said.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Alec took a sip of his drink, set it down on the bar, looked back at Dante. His gaze was direct. But then, Alec was always direct. One of the things Dante had been counting on. “Do you think maybe you came to me tonight to be talked into going after her?”

His gut was tightening up. “It’s possible.”

“I’m not going to tell you to do that.”

“You’re not.”

“No. And I’ll tell you why. I know you, Dante. And I think you need to give this some time. Calm down. Give yourself some time to accept how you feel about her. Because I can tell you don’t quite believe it yet. And you’re going to need to before you see her.”

“If she’ll see me.”

“Ah. Well. Even more reason to give it some time. She probably needs it to cool off from whatever happened between you two.”

BOOK: Desire's Edge

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