Dark Redemption Read online

She's echoing my thoughts, but I can’t go there.

  Not now.

  I look at myself in the mirror and I like the woman who looks back. Yes, I've gained some weight and I could be thinner and firmer, but the dress is flattering and attractive and most importantly, it makes me feel confident.

  Besides, Dante has always found me incredibly sexy and that has added a measurable boost to my self-esteem.

  "You look great," Allison approves. "Should I wait up?"

  "I'll text you," I say. "No matter what happens, I'll keep you updated."

  I walk out and I see his car parked in front of the gate.

  I didn't give him the code because it's an Airbnb and we were explicitly told not to give it out.

  So, he just waits there, sitting on the hood like a sixteen-year-old kid in some '80s movie. Dressed in slacks and a casual T-shirt that hugs his toned body in all the right ways, he is incredibly hot.

  Looking him up and down, I have to restrain myself from licking my lips and kissing him right here.

  "You look beautiful…stunning,” Dante says. He leans close to me and it feels like he’s going in for a kiss, but he grazes my cheek instead ever so lightly.

  "I don't know how to do this," I say when he opens the door for me.

  "What are you talking about?"

  He pulls out of the driveway and heads somewhere in the distance.

  "I don't know how to go on a date with you. I mean, we have done so much. It’s like we fast forwarded past all of this and now we're going on a first date, so it’s all very strange."

  "In a good way I hope," Dante says.

  I nod. "Yeah, actually in a very good way.”

  We drive for awhile without saying a word. There are few streetlights around here and the road is winding, eventually leading to an inn with a thatched roof.

  "What's this?" I ask.

  "It's a restaurant, seafood but it's amazing."

  “It looks so cozy," I say, and I mean that in the nicest way possible.

  "Come on, you're not going to regret it.” He opens the door for me, takes my hand, and leads me inside.

  It looks like a bed and breakfast. The front desk attendant with incredible warmth and professionalism welcomes us, showing us to the back.

  We get a table near the window looking out onto the sand and the dark sea with the nearest couple sitting half a restaurant away. Candlelight, low voices, and the quiet sound of the violin in the distance creates an incredibly romantic and secluded atmosphere. The perfect place for a first date with someone you already know well.

  Dante reaches out his hand to touch me. I pull my hand out of my lap and he intertwines his fingers with mine.

  "I've been wanting to do this for a long time,” he says, gazing into my eyes.

  "Yeah, me, too," I say.

  "I'm sorry that I lied to you. It was incredibly stupid and selfish."

  "Selfish?" I ask. "No, it was stupid maybe, but it was the opposite of selfish. You saved my mom's life and you did it in secret. I'm just sorry that I got so upset."

  "Let's just forget about it and start new."

  "I'd like that," I say.

  When the menu arrives, Dante orders us some wine that I've never heard of, which isn’t saying much since he could order the cheapest wine on the menu and I wouldn't know the difference. When I tell him this, he laughs.

  "That's what I like about you," he says, "you're unassuming, unpretentious."

  "I thought you would use this opportunity to teach me about wine."

  "If you ask me, I can tell you, but I'm not going to be so presumptuous and self important to go around and mansplain stuff to you."

  I laugh at his use of the word mansplain. "I'm not sure that applies here, but I appreciate the sentiment."

  We both laugh.

  When the bread arrives, I grab a roll trying to appease my anxiety. It's not that I'm not happy to be here, more than that.

  It’s just when suddenly you're doing exactly what you've wanted and thought about for months, you start to question things, you get nervous.

  While I let the bread melt in my mouth, I ask Dante about his life, his brother and his wife. We talk briefly about what happened at Central Park and he apologizes once again for not coming after me.

  “I had a lot on my mind," he says.

  “Like what?”

  "I'm just having some issues with my work. It's hard to explain."

  "Try," I urge him.

  We have talked enough about the past. Now I want to know more about the present.

  The first courses are the Caesar salad with freshly made dressing.

  "Wow, I've never had dressing that was this good," I say, taking a bite and then impaling a crouton along with the greens.

  He takes a bite and nods in approval.

  "Tell me about your work," I say when the smile disappears and he gazes into my eyes.

  "I have this client out in Seattle, my boss forced me to invest with him and his company and usually those decisions are made entirely up to me. I promised myself that I would oversee every part of that investment because he didn't deserve it. I have a feeling that my boss is getting a kickback or there's some sort of fraud going on, but what it is exactly I don't know."

  "I thought that you were in charge of who you invest with."

  "Yeah, I thought so, too," Dante says, "but he basically told me that you either invest the company's money with this guy or go and find another job. So that's what I'm doing."

  "What are you doing?"

  "A little bit of both. I invested the money and I'm actively looking for other employment."

  "Oh, wow. So, there are other companies that do what you do?"

  "Of course, competitor companies, some not so good, some a little bit more shady. That's what I liked about Cedar in the first place. He seemed really on the up and up, which is hard to find in the financial world, especially when you're talking about these types of investments. I'm actually considering starting my own."

  "You are?"

  "Yeah.” He nods. "Wow, it feels weird to tell someone this, but it's the first time I've ever said it out loud."

  I smile. "I like that," I say.

  He smiles, too, reaches over, and squeezes my hand again. I'm having an elderberry martini. I take a sip and the alcohol calms me down a little bit, relaxing my nerves.

  "I've missed you," Dante says out of the blue, just like that. It makes my breath lodge in the back of my throat.

  "I missed you, too," I mumble and just as he's about to lean over and kiss me, the waiter comes back with our main course.

  I ordered some Atlantic salmon and he got a lobster. I finish the rest of my salad and ask for more because it's so good.

  The rest of dinner proceeds quite casually: no more intense conversations, no more apologies, no more regrets about the past.

  We just enjoy ourselves in the moment and I find myself relaxing more and more with each passing minute. I had forgotten what it was like to be with him and how comforting it is.

  We talk a lot about our thoughts about life, our values, our hopes and dreams. When I ask him about his mom, he just shakes his head and says “not today.” I laugh knowing exactly what that means.

  "I've missed you," Dante says when they clear our table. He repeats himself over the rattle of the plates and over the waiter asking me whether I’m done with my food and if I want to take the rest home.

  When the waiter leaves, Dante repeats himself, laser-focusing his eyes on me.

  “I’ve missed you,” he says for the third time and the world falls away.

  It's just the two of us now, alone and together, and I want to stay this way forever.

  15

  Jacqueline

  After dinner, Dante drives back to his house, and we hold hands the whole way. He offers to drop me off, but then invites me in for a cocktail, and I can't accept fast enough.

  I've missed him, too.

  I want him.

  I haven't
actually stopped thinking about him this whole time. I'm sitting in the passenger seat, and he's holding my hand, and we can finally be together.

  We start kissing when we get to the doorstep. His hands make their way all over my body, pressing me tightly against his. His lips are soft, strong, just like I remember.

  Dedicated and impatient.

  He's a contradiction in itself, and I want that all over me.

  Dante pulls away to open the door and then grabs my hand and pulls me inside. He presses me against the wall and runs his hand up my thigh and under my dress.

  I feel him graze my lace panties, and the fact that I'm wearing them now is not an accident.

  "Hey," he says, pulling away from me, locking eyes.

  I smile at him, feeling myself smoldering. He puts his finger on my chin, points my head upward, and kisses me again.

  I like the way that he demands certain things of me and has his way with my body.

  I like the confidence with which he acts and moves. And of course, it's all about me wanting to be with him.

  We kiss. With him pressing me against the wall, my hands make it up his shirt, feeling the outline of each muscle.

  I love how broad his shoulders are and how powerful they feel above me: consuming me, pressing me, and keeping me in place here.

  Somehow, we end up on the staircase, him still on top of me, the steps digging into my back.

  As I'm about to move, he pushes me up and then reaches down and pulls down my panties. They get stuck at my ankles, and he laughs, and I laugh along with him.

  But then he reaches over and opens my legs. I feel the heat emanating from the middle, and he runs his tongue on the inside of my thighs.

  I lean back, propping myself up with my elbows.

  He teases me for a while, kissing all around except for the inside, and then finally gives me a small lick.

  "You're terrible," I say, closing my legs.

  "I know."

  Dante smiles and opens them up again forcibly, this time kissing me everywhere. His tongue makes its way deep inside of me, and all of that built-up tension comes to the surface.

  A wave starts to roll through me and I begin to lose control, but he pulls away just before.

  He gets on top of me and kisses my neck and my breasts, just the top because my dress is too tight, and whispers, "Come upstairs with me."

  Still feeling a little bit woozy from the experience at the bottom of the steps, I let him drag me up by my hand. At the top, he grabs me, lifts me up, and carries me all the way to his bedroom, plopping me down on a king-sized bed.

  Dante kisses me again and again, cradling my head with his beefy arms, and then when I least expect it, he flips me over onto my stomach and unzips the back, helping me up to my feet.

  The dress slips off, and he undoes my bra.

  "You're so beautiful," he whispers, looking at me.

  I smile. I feel so comfortable and at peace in his arms, and yet at the same time, incredibly aroused.

  He holds me close to him, pulls away only briefly, and then kneels down and kisses my chest, my breasts, going all the way down to my stomach, and then in between my thighs.

  I arch my back, my hair falls somewhere behind me. His hands move generously and liberally up and down my body, and I reach down and press and squeeze his hard buttocks together. My fingers run up to his shoulders, broad and expansive. He makes me feel diminutive under his body.

  "Do you have something?" I ask.

  He nods, reaching into his wallet. I kiss his neck.

  He slides his pants all the way off and drops them on the floor. He runs his fingers down my side and kisses my shoulder again and again. I hear the crinkling of the condom wrapper and I open my legs just as he slides inside.

  I take him in. He's large and powerful and with him inside of me, I finally feel complete. It sounds like a joke, perhaps something unreal, but it's like we were meant to be this way.

  Something separated us and we are finally back together.

  Our bodies move as one. It becomes a dance.

  The movements are slow at first but quickly gain momentum. I grab on to his back and his shoulders and wrap my legs tightly around him.

  He continues to thrust into me deeper and deeper each time, spreading me wider and wider. And then when I can't hold on any longer, I grab on to the sheets and let a wave of pleasure rush through me.

  It begins in my core and spreads through my fingers and toes, all the way to the ends and I feel my body pulsating and he moves faster and faster until he moans my name and collapses on top of me.

  We lie here in bliss for a long time that night. At first, we just revel in the silence, and then we talk and we can't get enough of each other. We laugh.

  He opens a bottle of wine and we tell one another stories about our childhood and our past lives. About three glasses in, I find myself wondering how I managed to live so long without him in my life.

  When I wake up the following morning, I realize that I had forgotten about Allison altogether. I glance at my phone and see a lot of text messages and missed calls asking where I am. Still dressed in nothing but a sheet, I sit up in bed, face the huge bay window looking out onto the ocean, and call her.

  "Hey, I'm so sorry," I say, and she launches into an attack.

  "What are you doing? Where were you last night? You promised that you would call. I almost went to the police station."

  "No, I'm fine. We just had a date."

  "Yeah. I figured that much. Either that or he murdered you and chopped you up and buried you in his backyard.”

  “He wouldn’t need to do that,” I joke. “He could’ve just tossed me out in the ocean.”

  I want to laugh, but this is a serious matter. The thing is that I should have called. I should have told her. She has every right to be worried. "So how was it?" Allison asks after a long pause.

  "It was good. We had fun. I'm still here."

  "You are?" she asks, and immediately turns on FaceTime.

  I want to press the big red button to ignore her, but I'm on call and I can't very well do that.

  As soon as we connect, she shakes her head. While she is recently showered and has her hair styled and her makeup applied, I am wrecked.

  I look at my reflection in the little corner. Messy hair resembling something of a bird's nest, last night's caked on makeup, and pasty skin and puffy eyes.

  "Well, you look like you had a good time," she says, bringing the phone closer to her face. "And had clearly a lot to drink."

  I laugh, only slightly embarrassed.

  My eyes are bloodshot, and I feel a little woozy and unstable on my feet. “Hey, some people would say this is how you know you had a good time.”

  “Will you at least be able to meet me for lunch in town?" she asks. "In like two hours?"

  "Yeah, of course. I'll be there," I promise.

  "Okay. It's the French crepe café right on Main Street."

  "I'll look it up. Don't worry," I promise.

  When Dante steps out of the shower, fresh and clean, he has his towel draped around his waist. When he flexes, I can see every outline of every muscle.

  "Wow," I say. "It's like you're photoshopped."

  He laughs, taking me into his arms. “So, last night was fun."

  I nod, holding the sheet tightly against my breasts, even though he has seen every part of me multiple times last night. But still, somehow in the light of day, I feel shy.

  "You want to go for a swim?” he asks.

  "But you just took a shower."

  "Eh. So what?"

  After I change into my bathing suit, Dante grabs my hand and leads me down the stairs and toward the private walkway leading straight to the beach.

  I remember how nervous I was coming up here yesterday and everything that has happened since still feels incredibly surreal.

  The waves are bigger today. Capped with white, they dance in the sunlight. The sky is bright blue without a cloud in sight. I
t beams down and the rays are hot and a little too demanding.

  Dante brings two towels and lays them down so close to the water that our feet are barely in it. A wave comes in and what comes in touches my towel.

  "No, no, no, it's going to get wet this way," I say, picking mine up and walking it a good distance back. "I'll just sit on the sand. It feels good anyway."

  The sand is lumpy, making up little ridges and peaks and valleys. The grains are relatively big, holding on to a great deal of heat. I scoop up a bunch in my hand and watch them fall through my fingers over and over again. It's almost as if I want to capture this moment on this beach with Dante so that I can remember it forever.

  "Come on.” He grabs my hand and pulls me up to my feet. I try to resist, but after a few steps I'm in the water.

  It feels cold on my feet, immediately cooling me off. I wade in further and further. When I get further into the water, Dante grabs my hand and pulls me closer.

  He kisses me and then kisses me again and again. When he pulls away, he splashes me a little bit.

  "Oh, no, I don't want to get my hair wet!” I yell.

  "Really?" he asks, and then grabs my hand and pulls me under.

  When I come up for air, I laugh, and I can't stop laughing, and I dunk him under in retribution. He's the one that has recently taken a shower anyway.

  We continue to laugh, kiss, and swim like we have no worries in the world, and for a brief moment there, we don’t.

  After swimming for a while, I remember that I have to get back to Allison. We hold hands walking back to the house, separating only so that he can rinse off at the outside shower by the pool. I opt for something more civilized since I need shampoo and conditioner.

  Walking past the kitchen, I hear someone talking.

  16

  Jacqueline

  I stand right behind the doorway, trying to figure out what to do. Their voices are muffled. All I hear is the sound of unpacking of groceries.

  It's probably the help, I say to myself. Not wanting to sneak past them and have them notice me, I clear my throat and walk straight in.

  "Oh, hey," I say, suddenly taken aback by the fact that the two people in front of me are not the housekeepers, but rather the owners.