Behind the Secrets (Behind the Lives #4) (34 page)

“What the hell was that for?” she
snapped. “You didn’t have to push me off.”

Confused, he looked around the room,
certain Beth had taken him home last night, the memory of making love to her
still clear in his mind. When he couldn’t find her, his gaze dropped to his
naked body, remembering Beth washing it.

The blonde smacked his leg. “Hey! Don’t
ignore me.”

He pushed away from her, banging into
the headboard. “Don’t touch me!” he yelled, not understanding what the fuck was
going on, his mind a confused blur of thoughts and images: of blonde and black hair,
of big and small tits, everything morphing together. The panic started to well
up inside of him again, making it hard to breathe.

“Are you all right, Dante?”

He shook his head. “Where’s Beth?”

“I don’t know anyone by that name.”

“But she brought me ’ere.”

The blonde exhaled loudly. “You’re
tripping again. Just lie back down, it’ll pass.”

“No, I needa find Beth. Where are my
clothes?”

“In the bathroom.”

He jumped off the bed and went for the
door.

She shot in front of him, blocking his
way. “Don’t leave, it’s not morning yet, and considering how much I’m paying
you, you could at least gimme one more fuck.”

His eyes widened. “I’m not a fuckin’
whore!”

She jolted back. “You don’t have to
shout, and if you have sex for money, then you’re a whore, no matter how you
paint it.”

“Go fuck yourself; I don’t want your
money.”

“Then why didja accept it? Plus,
everyone says you’re a whore. Not only that, I saw you leave with a gay-looking
Asian guy a few months back at Claydon pub. He looked rich,
too
rich to
be hanging out in Claydon.”

The memory of that night returned, of
Jade propositioning him for sex as well as a blonde woman. His gaze zeroed in
on the blonde’s pencil-thin eyebrows, then lowered to her fake tits,
remembering her now. “You’re that bitch that insulted me. What the hell am I
doin’ in your house?” He glanced down at his own body. “And why am I naked?”

“Duh, we had sex—twice, and you insulted
me too, so we’re even.”

He shook his head vigorously “No, I had
sex with Beth. She brought me ’ere.”

The blonde grimaced. “So, you only
fucked me ’cause you thought I was someone else?”

His eyes went to her hair, remembering
Beth’s black locks turning to blonde. He nodded, the realisation that he hadn’t
been with Beth
at all
finally hitting home. Unable to handle it, he pushed
past the blonde and went for the door, rushing into the passageway, looking for
the bathroom. He stopped inside a doorway, spotting his clothes lying on the tiled
floor. He grabbed his pants and pulled them on, along with his shirt and
jacket. He turned to leave, the woman blocking his way once more.

“I should feel insulted,” she said, “but
I’m just relieved you don’t want my rent money. So, stay for breakfast, I cook
a mean fry up.”

“No, I needa see Beth, I hafta explain I
thought you were her...” he petered off, his mind going to the day before: to
the hospital visit, to kissing Beth’s mother, to selling the acid tabs so he
could spend the money on drink after drink... His mind returned to the hospital
visit again, seeing Beth lying on the bed, her pregnant belly large, almost
obscene against her frail body. She was going to die and he couldn’t do a thing
to stop it.

He went to his knees, crying out for
Beth, feeling like he was losing her all over again.

A hand landed on his back. “Dante? What’s
wrong?”

He didn’t answer; the grief too much.

“Is there someone I can call?”

“Beth,” he pushed out. “I only want
Beth.”

She knelt down beside him. “What’s her
number?”

He started rocking back and forth.
“She’s dying. She wuz hit by a car. It wuz my fault, cos she ran onto the road
after me. I hate myself so much, I wish it wuz me dying, not her. She deserves
to live, I don’t...” He continued to babble, needing the stranger to know how
much he loved Beth, how much he needed her to live, and that he would take her
place in a second.

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry, I had no
idea.” She put her hand in his jacket pocket.

He jerked back.

She lifted his wallet up. “Don’t worry;
I’m just checking for a phone number.”

He snatched the wallet out of her hand
and threw it at the wall, then lay down and curled up, his body shivering, his
mind unable to handle reality anymore, insanity calling to him.

The
woman retrieved the wallet and disappeared out the door ... leaving Dante to
mourn Beth alone.

***

A hand stroked Dante’s hair. He opened
his eyes and looked up at Kara. She stared down at him with those stunning pale
blue eyes of hers, giving him a soft, “How are you feeling?” He glanced to his
side, not understanding how he’d gotten home. Maybe he’d dreamt last night; the
woman’s house just a nightmare.

“Dante, how are you feeling?” Kara
repeated, continuing to stroke his hair.

Dante let her continue, wanting the
comfort, even though he didn’t deserve it, since he’d done nothing but push her
away. Kara had left his house a few days after Beth’s accident, Dante asking
her to go. He couldn’t handle being around her after Beth’s accident. Although
he loved Kara, living with her while Beth lay dying felt wrong. No, it was more
than wrong, because he didn’t deserve to be happy with her—not after what he’d
done to...

Beth.

He wiped his face, not wanting to think
about her dwindling away to nothing, while her baby grew bigger in her belly.
He now understood why her father had wanted to turn the machine off after they’d
learned she was brain dead—because seeing her like that, day in and day out,
used as a human incubator ... it killed him.

Not wanting to think about her, he
turned over and pulled open his drawer, sifting through it, desperate to find
an escape from his thoughts. He found what he was looking for, the white
package good enough until he got his hands on some more booze. He opened it...

“What are you doing?” Kara said, running
around the bed.

Dante quickly stuffed the pills into his
mouth before she could take them off him.

“Dante!” She turned to the door. “Ash!!”

Dante went to get up.

She spun around and shoved him down.
“You idiot! You’re going to kill yourself if you keep doing this shit. You have
to stop destroying yourself.”

“It’s none of your business what I do.”
He waved his hand. “So get out.”

 “No! It
is
my business,
you’re
my business. Christ, Dante, Ash and his friend had to carry you out of some
woman’s house at four a.m. in the morning. They said you were passed out cold,
looking like you were dead. At first I was willing to let you do your thing,
because you needed to grieve, but your behaviour has become dangerous. What
you’re doing is destroying yourself one drink and pill at a time. You’re going to
die if you keep heading this way.”

Dante sniffed. “It’ll be better for
everyone if I do. I cause nuthin’ but pain and misery, even death. My mother
died cos of me, now Beth is dying cos of me.”

“Stop blaming yourself, you caused
neither of those things.”

“I did!” Dante stabbed at his chest. “I don’t
give a fuck what everyone else says! I did do it, I fuckin’ do everything.”

“You’re not the centre of the bloody
universe, Dante, so pull your head out of your arse, because I’m not going to
baby you like Jade does.”

“You’re a callous bitch.”

“And you’re a weak bastard.”

“I’m also a toxic one, so if you know
what’s good for you, you’ll walk out that door and never come back, cos all the
women I love end up dying.”

“You don’t love me; otherwise you
wouldn’t have slept with all those women.”

“I don’t give a fuck ’bout those women!
I couldn’t care less if they lived or died, I don’t even fuckin’ remember them,
but you, you’re different. I don’t want you ending up like Beth, which is why
you can’t be around me. Bein’ with me is a death sentence.”

“Being
without
you is the death
sentence, so stop this destructive behaviour.”

He pushed out of bed, intent on getting
the hell away from her. “I can do whatever the fuck I like and you can’t stop
me.”

“But
I
can,” Ash said.

Dante turned his head, finding his
brother standing in the doorway, with his muscular arms crossed over his chest,
looking like a mean motherfucker. “Piss off, Ash, I don’t need more lectures.
Just go back to your happy li’l family.”

“The family isn’t happy with the way
you’ve been acting. We’re all worried ’bout you. And after I had to pick you up
from another random woman’s house, we had a talk—”

“Better not bloody be about me.”

“Who the fuck else would it be about?”
Ash shook his head. “You hafta stop drinking, but knowing you, you won’t, which
is why you’re goin’ to rehab.”

“Like fuck I am!”

“So, you’re gonna die cos of that
woman?”

Dante stalked up to Ash. “You
better
not be talkin’ ’bout Beth, cos you don’t have a right to say shit ’bout her,
you heartless cunt. You treated her like crap.”

“She cheated on me.”

“Why can’t you just fuckin’ put things
in the past, instead of dragging grudges around? She’s dying, for Christ’s sake.”

“Just cos she’s dying doesn’t change a
thing. Death doesn’t automatically make her a saint.”

“Just fuck off, you uncaring cunt!”

“I care enough to be here for you.”

“If you cared, you’d leave me the hell alone.”
He went to move past Ash, but wobbled, his mind going hazy, the drugs finally
kicking in.

Ash grabbed him.

Dante shoved him away. “Don’t touch me.”
He took a few steps back, his eyes going to Kara. “And get outta my room.”

Kara shook her head. “No, Dante, just
listen to us. Jade’s willing to pay for a private rehab clinic—”

“So he can get more of this.” Dante
grabbed his crotch. “That’s why I’m ’ere, and why he gave me that recording
contract. He wants me, like you want me. Well, get in line, cos it’s a fuckin’
long one.”

“Stop pushing me and everyone who loves
you away.”

“I told you it’s for the best.” His eyes
went to the door as Jade appeared, his face looking puffy and red. Dante barked
out a false laugh. “Look, he’s here ready for me. You wanna pay me again? This
chick last night wanted to pay for me.” He pulled off his shirt and threw it at
Jade, then started unzipping his pants. “You want me to fuck ya, don’t cha?”

Kara rushed forward, yanking his hands
away from his fly. “Stop it!”

He turned to her. “Do you want some Rata
cock too?” He leaned down and kissed her.

She shoved him away. “I can still smell
the booze on you.”

“No you can’t, but I can rectify that.”
He strode to his bed and went to his knees, sifting through the empty bottles underneath
it. He let out a whoop, finding a half-filled one. He opened the lid, chugging
some down.

Kara yanked it out of his hand, spilling
some whiskey over the floor. “This stops now.” Her eyes went to Ash. “Do it.”

“Do what?” Dante’s head whipped around
to Ash and Jade as they neared him. They grabbed his arms and yanked him up.
Dante shook Jade off and tried to pull free from Ash’s grip, but couldn’t, his
brother too strong. “Get your fuckin’ hands offa me!” He pushed out at him,
getting shoved onto the bed. He went to get up, but got pushed back down. Ash
yanked him onto his front, twisting his arms behind his back. “What are ya
doin’?!” Dante yelled, unable to get free.

“Stop fighting me!” Ash snapped.

Dante continued to struggle, his panic
growing, those words, those fucking words.

Stop fighting me.

Stop fighting me.

Stop fighting me.

Someone else had said them a long time
ago ... no, not
someone
... his stepfather.

‘Stop fighting me, Ash,’ Chaz had said.

“I’m not Ash!” Dante continued to
struggle, his mind losing control, fear taking over, gripping him so tight it hurt,
because he didn’t want to remember how his stepfather had fucked the life out
of him, or how the freak was still fucking his mind and soul, killing him one
day at a time. He couldn’t handle what had happened, the drugs and alcohol, and
his fucked up mind, helping him to forget.

“Please stop, Chaz, you’re hurting me. I
promise I won’t tell anyone, just stop, I’m not Ash.”

“What the hell?” someone gasped.

The pressure lifted off Dante, leaving him
lying on his front, not yet registering he’d been let go.