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End of the Line
Dante
I stare down at Eleni, bloody, bruised, and half-covered. Rage lights in my veins, something deeper and truer than I’ve felt before. I knew Frank Lombardi was scum. I’ve touched enough blood that he spilled to never question that. But violating Eleni like this is something new. It’s the end of the goddamn line for him.
She stares up at me, and the confusion in her wide, blue eyes morphs slowly into fear. “Dante? Wh-why are you here?”
Fuck. I never want to scare her. I kneel and snap out my switchblade. She flinches, but I can’t do anything about that. I slit the zip ties around her ankles, fix her skirt, then hold out my hands for her wrists, struggling to keep my movements slow and calming.
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