Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 111676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
His hand shot out to steady it. He paused for a moment, seeming to stare at the photograph. Once again, a jagged lump of guilt lodged in my throat at the memory of Wolf’s hurt expression yesterday.
“Wolf, I…” God, it was true that the longer something was left, the harder it was to say. “I’m sorry about your dad.”
His back muscles tensed before he slammed the drawer shut so hard that the picture fell with a resounding clack. That time, he didn’t bother trying to save it. “A year too late, don’t you think?” The venom in his voice had me wanting to recoil, to escape the uncomfortable sense that maybe I had been in the wrong.
“I know.” I wanted to apologize for apologizing. “I didn’t know how to—”
“How to what, Jade?” He turned from the dresser, his angry gaze aimed right at me. “Be a decent fucking person?” Without shame, he dropped the towel, and I snapped my attention to the wall directly in front of me. He knew how to make me uncomfortable.
The guilt I’d felt moments ago slowly ebbed into anger. What had he expected from me? I had tried to text him, to offer my condolences, but it hadn’t gone through. Just like all my other attempts to contact him. He was the one who’d changed his number. Sure, I could have asked Monroe for his new one, but he clearly didn’t want me to have it, so I’d refused to. I took it as a clear message that I wasn’t welcome in his life or at the funeral. My own heartbreak over him moving on so quickly with Nora didn’t help. I was shattered, and now I was mad at him for acting like he’d needed me when he’d had her. But the anger didn’t change the look of hurt on his face. It didn’t alleviate the guilt I felt—misplaced or not.
“You’re right.” I shielded my face with my hand, blocking my view of his naked body as I hurried to the bathroom. “Sorry I brought it up.”
I closed the door and leaned against the wood, sucking in several calming breaths. Some things were unforgivable. On both our parts.
Thankfully, after I’d showered, Wolf was gone.
My bag, the one I’d left in my car last night, sat on the bed. Damn him for still being thoughtful. My mind and heart couldn’t handle the emotional rollercoaster of contradictions. But I was no closer to locating anything incriminating to change the situation. There were drugs somewhere in this house, though. I just had to find them.
After I dressed, I went downstairs, following the rustle of plastic bags into the kitchen where Cassie was placing several Wal-E-Mart sacks on the counter. Her hair looked like a bird’s nest, and I was pretty sure her shirt was on inside out.
“Why are you shopping before—” I checked my watch. “Seven thirty in the morning?” I wasn’t sure Cassie had ever been awake before seven, unless she was rolling in at that time.
“I went to get the shopping list Rogue requested for breakfast.” She definitely should have sounded more pissed about that. I’d clearly entered some twilight zone.
“What are you, his personal assistant all of a sudden?”
“Just be thankful he doesn’t have your number.”
“Let me guess—” I took inventory of the groceries. Bacon, eggs, bread—“We have to cook breakfast?” Of course, what better way to humiliate women than putting us in the one place crusty old men thought we belonged?
“Yep.” She pulled out a carton of milk. “Can you make the bacon?”
I resented cooking like their damn mother, but I wasn’t going to leave her to this shit on her own.
I put a load of bacon on the grill pan, then made my coffee while Cassie danced around, singing lyrics to “Vigilante Shit.” Either Rogue had given her the best dick of her life last night, or she was up to something.
“So, I was thinking, we could go to Platinum after work tonight.” She cracked eggs into a pan. “I’ll just tell Rogue we’re doing inventory or something.”
“It’s okay. You don’t want to piss off Rogue by not being in his bed on time.”
She frowned. “You don’t need the money?”
“I do, but—”
“Then we’re going.” She pulled a container of orange juice from the bag, followed by a huge bottle of MiraLAX. Okay, now her earlier singing made sense. “Cassie…”
“Mmm…” She filled a glass pitcher with juice, then took the laxative, unscrewed the cap, and tipped it up. A steady stream of powder poured into the jug.
Part of me wanted to stop her, but I had told her to be herself. Plus, the thought of Rogue shitting his life out felt like karma, the world righting itself and restoring order. Wolf, on the other hand… No. No Wolf anything.
He was the enemy. No matter if he’d given up his bed or had that heartbreaking look on his stupid face yesterday.