Dante's Fire Read Online Free PDF Page B

he left.
    As if she now lived in an alternate universe where superheroes lived and little green men were ready to take over the planet, Selina nodded. Agreeing to trust this stranger with her care. Usually fiercely independent, she ached body and soul with a fear she'd never experienced. She craved someone gentle to tell her what to do, someone to take care of her. Just for a little while.
    Just for tonight.
    "Thank you, Selina." His hand reached out and gently stroked her swollen cheek. She stiffened, and then consciously relaxed as she realized he wouldn't hurt her. "I treated you for shock and put a robe over your clothes. No broken bones, but I need to take care of these cuts. I need to ask you something very important."
    He leaned forward. She sucked in her breath at the dark swirling depths in those twin orbs. Like quicksand, Selina fought to keep from drowning in the raw mixture of emotions he revealed. More vulnerable than she'd ever felt in her life, she waited for him to speak.
    "If you want, I will take you to the police. They'll take a report, and examine you for evidence. A rape kit. They will check for witnesses. You may be asked to identify your attackers in a lineup, and then a case will be brought against them. This is our law. Society's justice. We may not like it, but it's the only system we have in place."
    Her body convulsed. God, she couldn't do it. She may die if she laid her gaze on them again. But didn't she need to press charges? Tears sprang and leaked from her eyelids. "What will happen if I don't go to the police?"
    Dante reached over and took her hand. "They'll go free.” Those eyes burned and blazed with scorching heat. "Even if they go free, they've been marked for life. They'll never be able to touch a woman in violence without extraordinary pain. They will never be able to hurt another woman again."
    It was official. She'd been transported into a science fiction novel where villains were marked by mysterious burning symbols and strange men sat in her bedroom. She gave herself up to the night and the paths it took her.
    "As long as I know they can't attack anybody else, I don't want to go to the police."
    "Okay. Let me clean these cuts.”
    “I want to shower.” Her lower lip trembled. She needed hot water to cleanse the dirt from her body. And the feeling of grabby, hurtful fingers.
    Dante nodded and held out his hands. “Let's get you into the bathroom." He helped her in and turned the shower to hot. "I'm going to be right outside the door if you need help."
    "Thank you."
    Knowing he was close helped soothe her anxiety. Her fingers shook so hard, she could barely get out of her ripped jeans. The button hung lifelessly from one strand of thread where the men had tugged to free it. The thought floated somewhere in the recess of her mind, unable to hurt her yet as she finished undressing and stood under the steamy, stinging spray. She washed her body with a clinical, detached air, put on fresh underwear, and wrapped herself back in the plush terry robe.
    "Dante?"
    "Here." He stepped into the foggy powder blue and white bathroom and motioned her to sit on the toilet seat. With competent, brisk motions, he examined her cuts and applied cream and bandages. His touch was clinical, like a doctor, and calmed her. Finally, he led her back to the bed and tucked her under the covers. Then brought a washcloth wrapped in ice, and pressed it to her swollen cheek and jaw.
    "Do you want to talk?" he asked.
    Selina wondered if she'd ever want to talk again. Or laugh. Or want to go out into the world. Or put on another pair of designer jeans. Or have a drink with her team at the bar. She almost felt worse at the moment, because the tears wouldn't come. Just a dry, waning grief that shook her body like a thunderstorm. She shook her head, unable to speak.
    Dante didn't seem to care. "Rest."
    He stood up and she shot forward on the bed. "Don't leave!" Selina despised her helplessness and need, but the