Page 40 of Cross + Catherine: The Companion

So, he let that rage fester.

He wanted it to grow.

Nothing else felt right.

“You should sit,” Antony told him. “Take a moment to rest while you can. I don’t think you will find much time to do any of that in the coming days.”

Dante shook his head. “No, I’m fine, Papa.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“I am.”

“Son—”

“Don’t,” Dante interjected quietly.

For once, he needed his father to let something go. He needed Antony to let him lie about this. To let him hide his feelings. He desperately needed his father not to push him right then.

Antony seemed to hear Dante’s unspoken request. His father nodded once, and then clapped him on the shoulder.

“I’m going to take your mother home,” Antony said. “She does need to rest whether she wants to admit it or not.”

“No worries,” Dante replied. “I’ll give you a call when Catherine can have visitors or something. Or, if there’s any updates.”

“Thank you, son.” Antony frowned. “And do try to rest, Dante. You do need it, too.”

No, he needed violence.

Retribution.

Spilled blood …

He needed to get his rage out of his system, and only one person truly deserved it.

Still, he said, “Sure, Papa.”

One more clap to Dante’s shoulder, and his father was gone. Dante made sure to say a quick goodbye to his mother, too.

Catrina had fallen asleep on a chair while they waited for the final word that Catherine had been transferred upstairs. A place not meant for his daughter, except she needed it now.

Dante used his jacket to cover his wife, and brushed her stray red curls out of her face. For now, she slept peacefully, and without worry. He knew that would only last for as long as she kept her eyes closed, and stayed in dreamland. He hated that for his wife—hated knowing that she was feeling a kind of pain he could not help.

All over again, his rage swelled.

Only this time, there was no holding it back. There was no quelling it for a time until he could deal with it later.

It needed soothing now.

With one last look at his wife, Dante headed out of the waiting room. He was outside of the hospital, and halfway across the parking lot before someone finally caught up to him.

Lucian.

“Dante, wait.”

He unlocked his Mercedes, and jumped in. Lucian slid into the passenger seat without a word. He didn’t even look at his brother as they pulled out of the lot fast enough to make the tires squeal against the asphalt.

“I’m going to kill him,” Dante finally said.