Velvet Roses Ch. 07

"Or, maybe not." She briefly paused before continuing. "Take care of yourself, alright?"

"Yeah, you too."

"Bye, Dane."

"Goodbye."

After pressing the call end button, he turned on his heel and walked over to the bed. He bent down so that his knees were touching the floor, and after sliding a duffel bag from out beneath the bed, he unzipped it and stuck his hand inside.

He let his fingers roam until they slipped inside a hidden pocket, and upon locating the cold, steel object, he enclosed his palm around it, then pulled it out. Sleek and black, the handgun was compact but powerful, and designed for concealment.

As Dane stared at it, he was reminded of his criminal past, and briefly recalled the numerous risky situations he'd been involved in. Yet despite that fact, he hadn't ever had occasion to actually shoot anyone. He had, however, been trained to hold and fire one, so he was completely secure in his ability to handle the pistol.

Until a few days ago, the only weapons he'd owned had been his collection of katanas, but after contacting Kenichi and informing him of his need for a different kind of weapon, Dane had procured the gun.

In addition, he'd also gotten the switchblade, and although he knew that a firearm would do a lot more damage, he was also aware that a knife would could come in handy during close quarter fighting.

Having been trained at a young age in the art of Japanese swordsmanship, Dane was far more comfortable with wielding a katana. Yet since it wasn't very practical to defend oneself with a sword when the opposition would be yielding a gun, he knew that a pistol would be the best defense.

Dane stood up from his crouching position, and after getting into the proper stance, he held the gun out in front of him, then aimed it towards a point in the distance.

Knowing that sight alignment and trigger squeeze were the most important factors to success in shooting, he made a mental note to sharpen his skills. He also knew it was imperative that he get used to holding the weapon, and after lowering the gun, he tested its weight, then offered it a lingering gaze.

It certainly wouldn't hurt for him to visit a shooting range and brush up on his skills, but if the time came for him to use the gun before getting any practice in, he knew without a doubt that he could properly defend himself.

Bending down so he was one again level with the duffel bag, he slipped the gun back inside the hidden pocket, yet just before releasing the steel from his hands, he suddenly changed his mind and pulled the gun back out.

Dane rose to his feet, and after kicking the duffel bag beneath the bed, he set the weapon on an antique trunk which served as a makeshift bedside table.

He then took a seat on the edge of the mattress, and after retrieving a bottle of sleeping pills from beneath his pillow, he shook out two, then added a third for good measure.

After eight months of taking two sleeping pills on a nightly basis, his body had grown accustomed to the dosage, and he was now at the point where he was forced to up his intake.

After popping them into his mouth, he took a swig from a bottle of water on the trunk, then reclined in bed, sighing deeply as he rested his head against the pillow. Fixing his gaze on the gun, he stared at it resentfully, hating its cold, callous presence.

His attention then shifted to the bottle of sleeping medication, and he began to wonder if he would ever be able to break his dependency to pills. Judging by his increasingly bad mental state, he knew that chances were slim, yet still there was a sliver of hope within him.

Releasing another heavy sigh, he shifted his eyes back and forth between the pill bottle and the gun, wondering how he'd managed to become so trapped. Life wasn't meant to be lived like this, and he knew that something drastic had to happen, and soon, because living such an existence was rotting him from the inside out.

Dane's lids gradually grew heavier, and as his thoughts turned to Jeneda, he gave a dry swallow. Tomorrow was the day of truth; the day when he would finally come clean and confess his past. It was also the day he would lose her, and although Dane knew in his heart that he didn't deserve her, he still couldn't help grieving the end of their relationship.

The end. No redemption, no forgiveness, no turning back. She was no longer his.

A dull ache formed in Dane's chest as a result of his thoughts, yet due to the effectiveness of the sleeping medication, he soon found himself on the edge of slumber.

*The end...no turning back...*

These were the last words that echoed in his mind, and as his eyes drifted closed he finally found reprieve, gratefully sinking into unconsciousness.

* * * *

For the sixth time in the past half hour, Jeneda glanced at the clock on the wall, and as she realized it was already six thirty p.m., she blew out a heavy breath, then got up from the couch and walked over to the living room window.

She didn't know what was taking Dane so long to arrive, but if he didn't show up within the next five minutes, she was going to leave. Luna and Ethan were expecting her to meet up with them for dinner at seven, and the last thing she wanted was to keep them waiting.

Glancing at her cell phone, she contemplated giving Dane another call, but since he hadn't answered the last two times she'd tried to reach him, she figured there was no point. Wherever he was, he clearly didn't wish to be reached, so why waste her time?

Taking another glance at the clock, she realized that wasting time was exactly what she was currently doing, and having reached the point where she was no longer willing to wait any longer, she grabbed her keys and purse, then headed for the door.

Her hand had just touched the knob when she heard the sound of her door buzzer, and after clicking the button on the intercom, she spoke into the speaker.

"Yes?" She asked curtly.

"It's me. Sorry I'm late."

"What took you so long?"

"Had to take care of a few things on the way."

Thoroughly annoyed by his late arrival, she briefly thought of refusing him entry and telling him to show up another time, but her curiosity regarding his recent strange behavior was overwhelming her. So instead of sending him away, she pressed the button on the intercom and buzzed him inside.

A few minutes later there was a knock on her door, and as she opened it, she saw Dane standing in front of her with a dejected expression. His eyes were filled with such sadness it almost hurt to look at him, and as she opened the door wider, he entered. She gestured for him to take a seat on the couch, and after sitting down beside him, she stared expectantly at him.

Moments passed and still no words were exchanged between them, yet their eyes remained intensely locked. Then suddenly Dane reached out and tenderly cupped her face in his palm. She felt him trace patterns on her cheek with his thumb, then he moved in closer and pressed his lips to hers in a sweet, lingering kiss.

Still upset with him for showing up late, she willed herself to move away, but the feel of his lips against hers was far too pleasurable. So despite her best efforts not to, she allowed her mouth to remain sealed against his. Once he pulled away, she watched him with a puzzled look, then offered some words.

"What's going on? I invited you over here to talk, not so we could make out."

"I know."

"Then why'd you kiss me?"

"Because It's the last chance I'll get."

A small crease appeared between her brows. "What do you mean, the last chance?"

"After you hear what I have to say, you're going to hate me. Which means I'll probably never see you again."

"You're not making any sense. Would you please just tell me what's going on?" There was an edge to her voice, and with each second that passed, she grew more antsy.

"There are some things in my past, stuff I've done that I'm not very proud of..."

Remaining silent, Jeneda stared deep into his eyes, anxiously waiting for him to continue. She didn't know why he was so reluctant to just come right out and say what he needed to, but the way he was dancing around this whole issue was thoroughly aggravating.

Ever since yesterday afternoon, she'd been in a state of suspense, and had now reached her threshold of patience. Then suddenly, when she was certain she could take no more waiting, he finally spoke.

"I used to be a criminal."

The way he'd just blurted it out caught her completely off guard, and at a loss for words, she blinked. Her eyes scanned his face diligently, as if she were suddenly seeing him for the first time, then once she finally found her voice, she posed a question.

"What kind of a criminal? What type of crimes did you commit?"

"Cargo theft. I robbed trucks and warehouses, mostly. But sometimes I also took merchandise from ships down at the docks."

"Ever shoot or kill anyone?"

"No."

Knowing there was no easier way to detect a liar, Jeneda gave him a long, hard gaze, waiting to see if he rapidly blinked or averted eye contact. He didn't, and after a few more moments of looking fixedly at him, she spoke.

"You say you used to be a criminal. Does that mean you're completely done with living that kind of life, or is there a chance you'll get back into it?"

"I quit eight months ago, and I'm definitely not going back to it. I'm done with it, for good."

"Ever been arrested or spent time in prison?"

"No, I haven't."

"Why didn't you tell me this when we first started dating?"

"Because I knew if I did, you probably wouldn't want to see me again."

"You still should have told me."

"I know, it was wrong of me not to, and I'm sorry about that."

Needing a moment to digest this new information, Jeneda briefly averted her eyes and rested them on the coffee table. She didn't know what to say and wasn't entirely sure just how she should feel about this.

On one hand, she felt upset that he'd kept this a secret from her during all these weeks they'd been dating, but on the other hand, she was relieved that he hadn't done anything too terrible, such as murder or committing other acts of violence.

Yet still, was he not an ex-thief? And had he not ripped off countless hard working people? She didn't like the idea of anyone being cheated, and now that she knew Dane had been involved in such a ruthless profession, she was definitely seeing him in a new light.

He'd stolen from people, and although he claimed to never have caused anyone bodily harm, he'd certainly given them mental and financial distress.

Allowing her eyes to once again rest on him, she thought about the strange behavior he'd displayed during his last visit to her apartment, and found herself wondering if there wasn't more to his confession of being a criminal.

Taking note of his body language, she noticed that his shoulders were hunched, and every now and again his Adam's Apple would bob up and down. This gave her reason to believe that he was feeling uneasy, and as she looked back into his eyes, she immediately knew that something was weighing heavily on his mind.

"There's something else you're not telling me, Isn't there?" She asked.

His gaze lowered momentarily before he looked back up at her, then in a low voice, he began to talk.

"I'm not really sure how to say this..." He nervously ran his fingers through his disheveled hair, then blew out a shaky breath. "But I did something really bad, something you'll probably never forgive me for."

Dane appeared unsettled, almost afraid, and as he scooted to the edge of the couch, his body grew rigid. Seeing him in such a state of extreme emotional distress only increased the anxiety that Jeneda felt, and as she waited in dreaded anticipation, she got the unshakable feeling that they were on the verge of some huge shift in their relationship.

Every second that passed only heightened the intensity, and as Dane stared directly into her eyes, Jeneda steeled herself, waiting with bated breath for him to speak.

"Your dad's friend, Vincent..."

"Yes, what about him?" The mere mention of his name caused Jeneda's chest to tighten, and as a look of guilt crossed Dane's face, she felt her heart quicken with unnerving expectancy.

"I was involved in his disappearance. I not only assisted in robbing him, but I also helped cover up his death. The reason his body was never found is because I dumped it in the bay."

Feeling as if she'd just taken a punch to the chest, Jeneda found herself struggling to breathe. A wave of nausea promptly overtook her, followed by the sensation of her heart sinking deep into the pit of her gut, and as she stared in wide-eyed horror at Dane, she felt a chill sweep through her body.

"Oh my God."

Her voice cracked with grief, and as she gaped in disbelief at him, he gazed back at her with an expression of deep sadness and shame. Then seemingly unable to hold her gaze any longer, he lowered his head, allowing his hair to partially obscure his face.

Although she knew in her heart that her ears hadn't betrayed her, she still couldn't help but hope that she'd somehow heard him wrong. Dane involved in Vincent's disappearance? It just didn't seem possible, and although she'd been aware that her lover was keeping some secret from her, she'd certainly never expected that it would turn out to be so massively disturbing. This had to be a nightmare, because things like this just didn't happen in real life; at least not to her.

Stunned into silence, she glowered intently at him, feeling shock and heartbreak and hate and disgust all at once.

This man she cared for, the one whom she'd kissed and made love to, and invited into her heart, was nothing more than a coward and a fraud, and although he hadn't technically made any false statements to her, he had purposely withheld information, and in Jeneda's book, that was just as good as a lie.

Both enraged and heartbroken, she was struggling to comprehend the despairing reality of her current situation, and found herself in desperate need of some answers. Noting that Dane's eyes were still averted, Jeneda continued to fix him with a withering stare, then finally she spoke to him in a cold tone of voice.

"Look at me." A cold fire burned in her eyes as she said it, and as he lifted his gaze to meet hers, anger flashed across her features. "Why did you kill him?"

"I didn't. It wasn't me."

"Liar! I know it was you. You're a murderer!"

"I didn't do it, Jeneda. "I *swear*. You have to believe me."

"Why should I believe you? You kept this a secret from me, so how do I know you're not lying?"

"Because I have no reason to. I have nothing to gain from it."

Her brown eyes flashed with anger, and with a fierce scowl on her face, she stared him down. Guilt and anguish was evident on his face, and as her eyes roved over his features, she could tell that he was torn up inside. Yet even despite this fact, she didn't feel a shred of sympathy for him.

Looking straight into her eyes, Dane said, "I'm telling you the truth. I didn't kill Vincent."

"Then who did?"

"It was my partner, but she didn't mean to. It was an accident."

"No," she shook her head slowly, then added, "I don't believe that."

"She didn't mean for it to happen, the gun went off by mistake and-"

"Shut up, I don't wanna hear anymore of your bullshit excuses!" She snapped, her body shaking with anger. "Guns don't just go off by themselves, people pull the trigger. So don't give me that 'it was an accident' crap."

"It wasn't on purpose. Neither of use intended for it to happen."

"You robbed a man at gunpoint. What the hell did you think was going to happen?" She vehemently asked.

"We only did it as a precaution, just in case something went wrong and he didn't cooperate. It was a scare tactic, nothing more."

"The gun was loaded, you knew there was a possibility that someone would get shot."

"Yes, of course I knew. But I never thought it would happen. It's just one of those things you never plan on, a stupid, tragic mistake."

"Would you stop calling it a mistake? He was murdered!" She shot him an icy glare, then shook her head in dismay. "You went into the situation knowing that a person could be killed, yet you still did it anyways. You robbed an innocent man, then dumped his body like trash. And instead of doing the right thing and alerting the police, you kept it a secret. So don't you dare sit there acting like you're sorry."

"I know what I did was terrible, and if I could take it back, I would. I don't deserve to be alive, I know that," he said in a quavering voice. "I did a horrible thing." A choking sound came from his throat, and after giving a hard swallow, he sorrowfully said, "Oh God, I'm so sorry. Please forgive me."

Astonished that he was even bold enough to ask, she sneered at him, then with a hard glint in her eyes, she said, "You don't deserve forgiveness. You're disgusting...soulless."

He winced at her stinging words, and a look of pure anguish etched into his features. His eyes moistened and his throat visibly constricted, yet despite the signs that he was on the verge of breaking down, not one tear was shed.

All too aware of the effect that her acidic words had upon him, she couldn't help feeling a sliver of guilt for the deep heartbreak they'd caused him. But as she reminded herself of the terrible thing he'd done, she quickly found herself once again loathing him.

"You're right, I don't deserve your forgiveness." His voice came out husky and raw with unrepressed emotion. "I committed a terrible crime, and I should suffer for it."

He bowed his head and his hair fell forward into his face, obscuring his features from view. A short moment of silence followed, then he solemnly said, "If you want to turn me into the police, I'll cooperate. Just tell me what you want, and I'll do it."

Jeneda felt a deep ache in her gut in response to his words, and for a brief second, she almost felt pity for him. But then logic intervened, and a voice within reminded her of where her loyalties lay. Why should she feel pity or compassion for a man who'd assisted in covering up Vincent's death?

Not only that, but once he'd found out her relation to Vincent, he'd chosen to keep quiet, rather than come clean and disclose what he knew. Was that they type of man who deserved sympathy? Clearly not, so for her to feel the slightest bit of affection towards him wasn't only illogical, but also downright disrespectful to Vincent's memory.

Vincent hadn't even had a proper burial, nor had his family or friends ever had the chance to properly heal. Her own emotional wounds were still quite raw, and for the first couple of months after his disappearance, she'd driven herself crazy wondering what had happened to him. Now she knew, and as she unwillingly imagined Vincent's dead body floating in the bay, she felt her stomach churn.

Still in shock that Dane had been involved in Vincent's tragic demise, she directed her gaze towards him and focused her eyes on his hands, which were clasped together.

A shiver danced up her spine as she realized that just seven months prior, he'd used those very same hands to commit a heinous crime, and as the memory of their last intimate encounter came to mind, she came to the realization that he'd touched every inch of skin on her body.

She used to love to love those hands, and had gained much pleasure from the way they'd moved across her body. Yet now as she stared at them, she could only think of death, and saw them as nothing more than callous instruments which had assisted in a monstrous act.

How many times had she allowed him to touch her with those hands? Over the span of a month, she guessed countless times. Yet had she known then that they'd once touched Vincent's corpse, she never would have allowed Dane to lay a finger on her.