Chapter 151

Dante ignores her. Instead, he swings one leg up over the back of the seat next to Ryan’s wheelchair and sinks down, stretching his legs out in front of him. From up his sleeve he pulls out a bandanna, shakes it, then ties it over his hair gangster-style to keep his bangs out of his face. Leaning his head back, he closes his eyes and pulls his bandanna down over them. Ryan pats his thigh in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. Dante hasn’t spoken to him yet, hasn’t said a word. Is he mad at him, maybe? For insisting on knowing what Dietrich said?

When he moves his hand away, though, Dante catches it and sets it back on his knee. He’s not mad then, not at Ryan, and his fingers rub along the inner seam of Dante’s sweats, soothing. When you’re ready to talk about it,he thinks, hoping Dante somehow understands without his having to say the words. I’m here for you when you need me to be.

Quietly, Dante sighs, “Love you.”