Page 21 of Room Seventeen

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Dante

Ididn’t think we would see her again. Fuck. I thought for sure she was cast to the wind. I knew before I opened my eyes this morning, she was not in bed with us. It’s like a part of me could feel she was gone. When I finally did open my eyes, the sight of her tanned skin and dark hair over white sheets not filling my vision drove me to drive a fist into the nearest wall.

We all showered and downed coffee for breakfast in silence. The whole time Con made arrangements for our trip back to Seattle I plotted on how to track her down, but how the fuck do you track down a ghost? It’s not like Club Sin has cameras in their hallways or suites and none of us thought of taking a picture. I didn’t expect her to just be… gone.

With all the phone calls in and out, Con failed to hear her message come through until it was nearly time to depart Club Sin. It had to be three in the afternoon by then.

When he found it and read her words aloud, I fell to my knees with a prayer of thanks on my lips. We had a way of reaching her. That one-liner linked us to the woman I was not ready to let go of yet. If ever. I am not a man of faith but for a moment this morning, I found some while I was on my knees.

One taste of her didn’t feel like nearly enough and I know my brothers feel the same way I do. They don’t have to say it for me to know.

Feeling like I drank gasoline for breakfast, I force myself to calm down or risk exploding with the shit show of emotions swarming my insides. I scrub a palm over my mouth and let out a pent-up breath.

We’ve been here once. In love and ready to fucking burn the world down for a woman. But that was a couple of years ago. I never wanted to feel those ties again. And now this petite spitfire with thousands of emotions swimming in her eyes and lighting my world—our world—on fire stirs needs in me I wish I could kill off.

Love. Is it possible? Fuck no.

Con shifts in the seat beside me and pulls back the coat we draped over her slight frame. She is still wearing the clothes from last night and the evening air holds a chill.

“She is sleeping.”

I hold her to me as we ride back to the city. Our driver pulls through airport security and Bastian steps out to take care of our paperwork. Before leaving we grabbed her shoulder bag from her car. She had a couple of suitcases not filled with much but we brought those too. The club promised to move her car and store it for us until we are ready. Con rifles through her bag and takes out her ID.

“Laila Romano of Seattle, Washington.” Bastian knocks on the window and Con passes it to our brother.

Silence.

I can’t believe we took her, all fucking three of us, and we didn’t even as for her full name.

My gaze meets Con’s with the same question he’s thinking. “Romano as inthatRomano family?”

He shrugs. “That is a good question to ask when our sleeping beauty wakes.”

A few minutes later we pull into a private hanger and board our jet. It’s not billionaire-status-sized yet, but we are getting there. One ladder rung at a time.

I settle her in the single room in the rear of the jet before joining my brothers by the bar. They are thrown in the seats with vodkas in their hands. I grab one for myself. Since this was a last-minute flight, we didn’t bother booking a stewardess service.

“What do you think happened?” I ask after we all have a minute to digest the last hour. Hell, the last day. We were on our way out of the club and back to the airport when we saw Laila pull up to the gate. None of us were sure it was her until the guard pulled his flashlight and shined it on her face.

Red eyes and tears. I’ve only felt this helpless once in my life. My fucking bleeding heart fell to the gravel driveaway and died at the sight of her emotionally torn up. I jerked the door open, took her in my arms and I kept her there until just a few minutes ago. I eye the back of the plane wondering if I should go to her.

“Let her be for a moment, brother. She knows we are near.”

Pressure builds in my chest. I drop my elbows to my knees and force myself to breathe through the need to touch her.

I swing my gaze to Con’s and we stare at each other for a moment.

“I feel it too,moy brat.I feel it too. But we need to talk.”

I slowly nod my head. “Da, moy brat.But let’s make it quick. She needs us. And we need answers.”

“I doubt she will talk to us if we pressure her. For now, she needs somewhere safe. We can at least provide that for her until she is ready and then we can send her to where she wants to go.”

Never. She’s never leaving my side. Fury and rage roll over me and I can’t seem to rein it back. Con watches me but wisely says nothing. His gears are turning though. He’s thinking the same damn thing I am. How do we keep her without getting too attached?

Simple. We don’t.

“Are any of you terrified that we took her bare last night?” Bastian lowers his weight into a chair opposite of me and Con. The aisle isn’t large but big enough to where we can stand and walk without hitting one another.


Tags: Penelope Wylde Erotic