The Second Silence (34 page)

‘Are you always this cynical?’ she asked.

‘Only when I’ve spent the morning in jail watching some drunk barf his guts up.’ Dante’s gaze slid over her like cool water. ‘But you wouldn’t know about shit like that, would you? The worst thing that’s ever happened to you, I’ll bet, was being kept after school.’

‘Dante, why are you doing this?’ Bronwyn was close to tears. On the blank TV screen across from her, she caught her distorted reflection, a tiny face atop an elongated body. Her hands, clenched into fists at her sides, looked enormous, like in cartoons.

Dante’s shoulders slumped, and he let out a breath halfway between a sigh and a grunt. Walking over to the sofa, he sank down next to her, dropping his head into his hands. Thick tufts of brown hair stuck up between his fingers. ‘I’m sorry,’ he muttered. ‘I have no right taking it out on you.’

Tentatively she reached over to stroke his back, its muscles so tight she might have been caressing a suit of armor. In the muted light the tattoo on his arm seemed to glower darkly. ‘It’s okay,’ she told him. ‘I know you didn’t mean it.’

There was a long silence filled only with the chittering whirr of an ancient fan and the Jurassic munching from across the way. Then Dante lifted his head to fix a weary gaze on her. ‘The fact is, I
don’t
know who did it. That’s what I told the cops, and that’s what I’ll tell the judge. But between you and me it’s not the whole truth.’

Her stomach lurched. ‘What do you mean?’

He appeared to wrestle with himself. Then, at last, he spoke. ‘You didn’t hear it from me, okay? Because I don’t mind admitting the guy scares the shit out of me. I mean, jump me in a dark alley and I’ll fight back. But this guy … he scares me, okay?’

Bronwyn licked lips that had gone dry as toast. ‘Are we talking about who I
think
we’re talking about?’

He nodded, taking another hit off his beer. ‘One of his guys runs it by me the other day. Mr V wants me to do this thing. Nobody gets hurt, he says. Nobody’ll even know it was me. And I tell the guy, no way. No fucking way. I’ll deliver packages, but trashing private property ain’t what I’m about. So he gets right up in my face and says, “Don’t fuck with the boss. You fuck with him, man, your ass is grass and he’s the lawn mower.”’

‘What did you say back?’ The words emerged as a breathless squeak.

‘Nothing. The next thing I know, I’m under arrest.’ Dante shook his head in disgust.

So I wasn’t just imagining it,
she thought.
Robert really is more than just your everyday garden-variety creep.
Something truly terrifying occurred to her just then. What if her sister was in danger of losing more than her child? What if Noelle’s
life
was at stake? She shuddered, gripping her Coke can hard enough to dent it.

‘But if you’re innocent, what proof did the cops have?’

‘Proof?’ Dante’s mouth curled in disdain. ‘The only proof they need to go after a guy like me is somebody pointing the finger. Everybody knows that numb-nuts Jewett is in up to his eyeballs with the Man. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.’

‘The deputy sheriff is in with Robert?’ It struck her suddenly as melodramatic, like an episode of
Diagnosis Murder.
She started to smile, but her boyfriend’s next words quickly wiped the smile off her face.

‘He’d shoot you and call it an accident, if the Man told him to.’ Dante’s tone was flatly matter-of-fact. ‘The other day, when you asked for my help? It wasn’t getting busted I was scared of. It was what he’d do to us if we got caught.’ He twisted around to grip her elbow. ‘Promise me you won’t go anywhere near that office.
Swear
it, Bron.’

‘All right, I swear.’ She felt a secret little thrill at his concern. But reluctantly she’d already come to the same conclusion: that breaking into Robert’s office was far too dangerous an enterprise to embark on solo.

‘I’m serious. You could get hurt.’

She cocked her head, eyeing him narrowly. ‘You know something, don’t you? Something he’s done that’s more than slipping money under the table or sending goons to trash my dad’s building.’ Bronwyn felt a glimmer of excitement. This could be even better than cracking his safe.

Dante let go of her elbow, which throbbed where his fingers had dug into it. ‘Believe me, I wish I did. But whatever he’s up to, he’s not about to get caught. You can be damn sure that last night he, personally, was nowhere near your dad’s building.’

‘So what makes you think the sheriff was in on it?’

‘Timing, for one thing.’ Dante reached for his cigarettes on the coffee table. As he lit one, she saw that his hand was trembling. ‘The cops were called at five
AM.
They didn’t show up until five-thirty. How come it took them half an hour to get there?’

‘According to Dad, they were all the way across town.’

‘Five deputies on duty and they’re all conveniently in the same place? Yeah, right.’ With a snort of derision Dante blew a jet of smoke from the corner of his mouth. ‘It didn’t take that long to pin it on me, you can be sure of that.’

‘But if what you’re saying is true,’ she argued, not entirely convinced, ‘if the sheriff really
is
turning a blind eye, that would mean Robert could literally get away with …’

‘Murder.’ Dante finished for her.

Bronwyn felt the blood drain from her face. A chill swept over her, scattering goose bumps like fine sand down her arms and back. ‘Oh, my God. You’re serious, aren’t you?’

‘As a heart attack.’

‘What about my sister? What if he—he hurts her in some way?’ Bronwyn began to shiver, hugging her arms to her chest. ‘Oh, God, Dante
…
now I really
am
scared.’

When he slipped an arm about her waist, pulling her down beside him, she didn’t resist. He smelled sweaty, as if he hadn’t showered. But she didn’t mind. Oddly, despite the fact that he’d spent the morning in jail, she trusted him. Bronwyn leaned into him. His nearness excited her: a low, loose sensation in her belly like the one she got when skinny-dipping in the lake at night.

He crushed out his cigarette in the ashtray with a dizzle of red sparks, and suddenly he was kissing her. Hard, with his tongue. Hard enough to feel the edge of his teeth. Dante had never kissed her quite so … urgently, as if everything up until now had been just the warm-up leading to
this.

Before she knew it, she was on her back with Dante practically on top of her. They lay like that for several more minutes, kissing until the skin around her mouth began to sting from his beard stubble. Between her legs she throbbed as if a warm hand were pressing her there.
Stop this,
she told herself. If her father found out … well, let’s just say a few broken windows would be the least of his concerns. For Dante, it would be straight back to jail. Do Not Pass Go, Do Not Collect $200. If not for vandalism, then for sex with a minor.

But she couldn’t seem to stop. She didn’t
want
to stop.

It wasn’t until Dante was tugging her T-shirt over her breasts that she was jolted into wriggling out from under him. ‘What about your roommates?’ she asked breathlessly, yanking her shirt down as she sat up.

‘What about them?’ Dante rolled over, placing his head in her lap.

‘One of them could walk in any minute.’

‘No problem. We’ll just take this into the bedroom.’

‘If we do that, we’ll just end up—’

‘Fucking?’ He flashed her a wicked grin.

‘Is that how you think of it? Just… fucking.’ She felt angry and cheap and exhilarated all at once.

‘You say it like there’s something wrong with it.’ Dante’s gray eyes slanting up at her in the dim light made her feel as if she were teetering on the edge of something steep. ‘Face it, Bron, you’re not one of those girls who give a shit about going to the prom or having a guy to spend money on you. You’re different. You just don’t know it yet. Any guy lucky enough to fuck you, and God, I hope it’s me, will be getting more than just that, believe me. And so will you, trust me on that one, so will you.’

She eyed him narrowly. ‘How do I know you’re not making all this up just to get me into bed?’

‘Relax, and I’ll show you.’

Dante reached up to run a grease-stained fingertip over one nipple, sending a cascade of delicious shudders through her. She looked down at him, his full mouth curled in a knowing little smile, his dark hair spilling over her lap. The words were out of her mouth before she knew she’d spoken them.

‘Okay. Let’s do it. I guess now is as good a time as any.’

Dante grinned lazily and in a single fluid motion rolled to his feet, pulling her with him. As he led the way down the hall, Bronwyn thought of the nights she’d lain awake, unable to sleep, yet resisting the urge to reach under the covers and relieve the pressure between her legs, thinking there must be something wrong with her for doing it as much as she did, something truly sick. Then finally giving in, because after all, no one had to know, right? Not even Maxie.

She felt that way now. As if it weren’t a choice, as if she
had
to do this … or she wouldn’t be able to get through the rest of the day.

Stepping into his bedroom, Bronwyn was pleasantly surprised to find it neater than the rest of the apartment. Its simple bed and dresser were the kind you buy unassembled and put together yourself. An autographed photo of a race car driver hung on the wall, and the shelf over the stereo was lined with CDs. Dante popped one into the changer, and Sarah McLachlan’s sweet, plaintive wail filled the room.

‘Will it hurt?’ she asked, suddenly nervous as she sank down on the bed.

‘A little. But don’t worry, I know what to do.’

Dante sat down next to her, gently pushing her onto her back. Unexpectedly he ran the tip of his tongue lightly over her temple, right up the corner of her eye. She shivered. It was as if all her body’s heat had collected between her legs, leaving none to warm the rest of her.

They kissed a while longer. Then he slowly undressed her. Only when she was completely naked did he peel off his own clothes. As Bronwyn lay on her back, her knees pressed so tightly together they quivered, he murmured, ‘Relax.’ He pried her legs apart, just enough to allow his hand access. Then carefully, oh-so-carefully, he inserted two ringers, wriggling them far up inside her. She felt a sharp twinge, followed by a trickle of warm wetness. She looked down, startled to find the inside of her thigh smeared with blood.

‘Oh,’ she exclaimed softly.

Losing your virginity had always seemed like such a big deal. She’d imagined it to be like in the movies, lots of moaning and thrashing about, culminated by a painful, bloodletting thrust. But this … it had been like a loose tooth being wiggled free.

‘Now for the fun part,’ Dante whispered.

He kissed and stroked her some more, until the uncomfortable throbbing between her legs was lost in the waves of pleasure that rippled through her. Dante must have done this with other girls, she thought,
lots
of girls, but the idea didn’t bother her as it once might have. Instead, it relaxed her, knowing that he was in charge, that he knew what to do. With Dante, there would be no embarrassing fumbles leading to awkward moments of indecision. No need to explain why her body seemed to know, from the nights spent practicing on her own, exactly what it needed.

She was amazed, in fact, by her boldness. Touching him as intimately as she touched herself when alone. Before this, she’d seen him naked only from the waist up, and even that had thrilled her—the thick, hard muscles in his arms and chest, the brown plank of his belly—but she now knew what lay at the end of that dark little trail of hair disappearing down into the waistband of his jeans. At last she’d seen what it looked like: a penis, fully aroused. Dante’s, she marveled, was really quite amazing. Long and thick and marbled with veins that pulsed beneath her fingertips. She stroked it until Dante pulled her hand away.

‘Don’t,’ he groaned. ‘I’ll come.’

‘Go ahead,’ she said, suddenly curious about that, too. ‘I don’t mind.’

‘No, you first.’

He fumbled in the drawer of his night table for a condom, letting her watch as he tore open the packet and expertly rolled it on. By the time he gently pushed her onto her back, spreading her legs even farther this time, she was more than ready. She was practically on the verge of coming herself. It stung a little when he eased into her. Then the waves of pleasure once more took over, obscuring everything else. Dante moved slowly, careful not to hurt her. Looking up into his face, she saw his concern. If she could have found her voice just then, she would have told him how it felt. Incredible. A million times better than when she stroked herself. If he didn’t stop moving, she would—

Then she
was
coming. Like a roller coaster ride barreling down that last steep hill, the warm wind rushing at her. Bronwyn gasped with the unbelievable high of it. ‘Oh, God … oh, Dante.’ She clung to him.
So this is what it’s like,
came the thought, clear and distinct. If she’d known, if only she’d known …

Moments later he came, too, with a great warrior’s yell. She watched his face contort, savoring the sense of power it gave her, knowing
she
was responsible.
She
could do this to a man, make him quiver and pant and cry out with desire. She smiled, thinking this was how Cleopatra must have felt.

‘That was nice,’ she said when it was all over.

‘Just nice?’ Dante rolled onto his side, eyeing her curiously.

‘If I say any more, you’ll get a swelled head. And I don’t mean just down there.’ She cast a meaningful glance at the condom drooping from his penis. ‘But you’re right about one thing: It beats the prom, hands down.’

Dante grinned, his gaze traveling over her naked body, sprawled indolently across the rumpled bedspread. ‘Yeah, well, I’d have gotten you a corsage, only I wouldn’t know where to pin it.’

She rolled over, lifting herself onto her elbows, her chin propped on the heels of her hands. ‘Would you call what we just did fucking or making love?’