Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 128380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
“Both of you stop now!”
Hearing his phone chime in a rhythm that told him it was a video call, Deke crossed to the nightstand and peered down at his cell. He wasn’t all that surprised to see that the caller was Dayna. Lowering the basket of freshly laundered clothes on his bed, he rubbed his nape with a sigh.
He’d suspected he’d hear from her today. So far, he’d received several messages from gossipers, relaying that Bailey had been marked. Nobody had outright asked if he’d been the one to brand her, but some had hinted at it.
Deke hadn’t replied to any of the texts, just as he never responded to gossip. Still, he’d known his failure to confirm people’s suspicions wouldn’t prevent either Therese or Gerard from rushing into contacting Dayna about it—they wouldn’t want someone else to beat them to it.
Deke grabbed his cell and swiped his thumb over the screen to accept the call. Dayna’s face appeared, her forehead slightly wrinkled, her eyes wary. Yeah, she’d received news of Bailey’s mark all right. He’d put money on it.
“Morning,” he said, sitting on the edge of his bed.
She gave him a quick flash of a smile—it was hesitant, strained, forced. “Good morning.” The words were stiff and formal. “How are you?”
“Good. You?”
“I’m not sure yet.” She sat on what appeared to be a chair and then carefully leaned her cell against something to prop it up. “It will depend on a few things.” She pushed her curls out of her face. “When Therese told me a couple of days ago that your touch-hunger seemed less intense, it was more than obvious that you were sleeping with someone on the regular. I didn’t ask you about it because I knew you’d say nothing. You never do.”
Pausing, she leaned forward slightly. “But I need to know something, Deke. I need you to be straight with me on this.”
“On what?”
Absently, she cracked her knuckles. “Is it the mamba shifter you’ve been sleeping with? Don’t blow me off. Therese told me the snake’s been marked. I have to know if it was you.”
Deke inwardly sighed. He knew the truth would hurt her, but he wasn’t going to feed her a line of bullshit. Nor would he claim to regret what he’d done, because he didn’t—to lie would insult them both. The reality was that he’d brand Bailey again if needed. “It was me.”
Hurt flashed in her eyes, and her throat bobbed. She cleared it with a cough. “Was it something you did on purpose, or did things just get a little wild?”
“The latter. The first time.”
Her eyes went wide. “You branded her more than once?”
Although he could see she was misinterpreting the whys of his actions, he wasn’t going to explain his situation. She’d probably be understanding. Maybe. But he didn’t trust her enough to share his cat’s issues with her. So, instead, Deke merely nodded.
Her eyes closed, and she dropped her head.
“Look, I’m sorry—” He stopped talking as her head snapped up, and she shot him a cold stare that made his cat bare a fang.
“You’re sorry?” she scoffed. “I can’t believe you did this to me! I feel like I don’t know you right now.”
Deke narrowed his eyes. He got that she was upset. He did. But there was no need for her to act as though he’d committed some huge betrayal.
They weren’t in a relationship. Dayna had laid no claim to him. And none of what had happened had involved him breaking his promise.
She’d also once accidentally branded someone herself. He hadn’t given her a hard time over it, despite the fact that back then it hadn’t felt good. Nowadays, he wouldn’t have cared at all.
She placed a hand on her breastbone. “Were you ever going to tell me?”
“Yes.” Though he hadn’t planned to do so until he came round to proposing they go their separate ways. He’d intended to do that once he’d given her another couple of weeks to mourn her recent losses.
A derisive snort popped out of her. “I’m not sure I believe that.” She pressed her lips tight together, her expression stony and unforgiving.
His cat snarled, not liking that she’d expected Deke’s forgiveness when the situation was the other way around. And she really had expected it—there’d been no real apology, only a confession followed by, “I got a little carried away, I’ll try not to let it happen again.” Yeah. She’d try.
No fonder of double-standards than his cat, Deke found himself gritting his teeth.
“God, I feel so humiliated right now. How could you do this to me? Dammit, Deke, I waited for you.”
“Like I waited for you,” he clipped. “You said you’d be back in a year. You’ve been gone for over two and a half.”
“Oh, so it’s my fault you did this?”
“I never said that.”