THE PROMISES MADE TO BELLE LOVE #ONC2024

Chapter 4.

Through the pelting rain, Gen ran all the way across campus, all the way through town. All the way to Spell Street. To the big white house.

She had only known Dante for a few hours and had stopped knowing him when the new year began. But now he was really her only hope. He was the only one who knew what she'd done, because he'd asked her to do it. So what that he had abandoned her? So what that he hadn't reached out? She needed him.

The mansion had a set of gigantic electric gates. She had half a mind to climb them, but they were spiked on top. She had had this image of racing up to Dante's door and hammering on it until he let her in, collapsing in his arms and telling him everything. But instead she would have to wait here for him.

She slammed the button beside the gate to call into the house. She waited a long minute in the rain. Night had fallen while she was running, but it wasn't late. Somebody had to be awake in this house. Somebody had to come for her.

Miraculously, when an answer came, she knew it was him. "Hello? Were we expecting you?" His smooth, beautiful Italian.

Gen was sobbing. She answered in English, because she knew he spoke it. He'd spoken it with her. "Dante, it's me. It's Gen. Will you let me in? Please." She was begging.

"Genevieve?" Accented and yet superb. He was so divine. "Of course, but – what are you doing here? Is everything okay?"

"I can't tell you right now. Please just let me in."

He did not just let her in. He came and collected her from the gate, umbrella perched over him. He was nearly invisible through the night, but somehow just the shape of him was beautiful. When he reached her, he extended his hand and grabbed hers, pulling her straight under the umbrella. Not caring that she was soaked, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and held her close. "Are you okay?"

They didn't even know each other. That was the sad fact. And yet he spoke like her wellness personally affected his own. Like for her to be anything less than perfect was his responsibility to fix.

Gen could only shake her head. He rubbed her back. "Okay. Inside."

His driveway was a trek. She could hardly believe he'd walked all the way down just to get her. This boy, she thought, was not what all the girls thought he was. He was not some pompous, aloof delinquent with a gorgeous smile. He was just a boy. She found herself wanting to forgive everything he'd done. Daring her to kill. Leaving her behind.

They reached the front of his house and Gen moved towards it, but Dante shook his head. "We'll go around the back," he said. He didn't let go of her once as he guided her around the great house, through the gardens and the expansive patios. He glanced at her every other second, as if to check that she was still there.

Dante opened the back door to the house and swept Gen inside. He stepped up after her, shook off the umbrella and set it down in the corner of the hall. When he shut the door, the rain became instantly muffled, and only then did Gen feel that she was free of it.

She could feel herself about to cry again. Dante seemed to notice it too. His dark eyebrows scrunched together with a mix of sympathy and puzzlement, and he grabbed both of her hands, shook them. "Sorry, Gen, not here. Not here. My room. Come on."

"I'll drip through your house."

"That's alright."

The marble floors were slippery, but he held onto her. They went up a staircase and down another several hallways before they arrived at the door to Dante's bedroom.

"In you go," he said softly, holding the door for her to walk through. Gen only started to feel aware of herself once she stepped inside. She was in Dante Leon's bedroom, and she looked like she'd just narrowly escaped drowning. Her hair was plastered to her skull, her mascara was running, her backpack was drooping off her shoulders. Her shoes squelched when she walked.