Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 152710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 764(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 764(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
Would I? I’m in no state to think, never mind analyze my dietary cravings.
“Have a warm shower,” he says. “I’ll bring you some Rooibos to help you sleep.”
He’s already at the door when I find my tongue. “Damian.”
He turns and waits, watching me with those intense eyes.
“Where is he?”
Irritation plays over his face. “I presume at a hospital.”
“Your men took him?”
“Of course not. They dropped him at his car.” He flexes his hand, fingers splayed. “Why are you so concerned about him?”
“You just chopped off a man’s fingers, and you ask me this?”
“Have your shower.” He turns away from me, animosity written in the tight set of his broad shoulders.
“Damian.”
He pauses. “What?”
“Please don’t lock me in.”
There’s something in his gaze as he looks at me from over his shoulder. Suspicion. A question. He doesn’t say anything but humors me by leaving the door open when he goes.
Not wanting to be caught naked, I rush through the shower and pull on a nightdress. When I step out of the bathroom, a cup of tea is standing on the nightstand, still steaming. Feeling cold to my bones, I take a sip. It’s sweet, just like my mother made it that time when the car knocked me off my bicycle.
Damian
The evening has turned into a nightmare. I shouldn’t have brought that thieving scumbag to our home, but we snared him unexpectedly when he exited the Minerals Council, and I couldn’t drag him into the streets or behind the nearest dump where the city has crime surveillance cameras.
Since my evening is already ruined, I go in search of Zane, and find him and Anne in front of the television, laughing at a slapstick comedy.
Anne looks up when I enter. “Damian, you poor baby. What an awful day you had.” She gets to her feet, lithe like a cat, and grips my shoulders from behind. “Sit down. You can do with a massage. Zane, pour him a drink.”
Zane shoots her a dirty look.
I shake off her touch. “We’ll have that drink in my study.”
I don’t wait for Zane’s reply. He knows better than to argue. In my study, I pour two whiskies over ice.
Zane enters slowly, his step cautious. “What’s going on?”
“Sit.” I point at the chair facing my desk, not the armchairs by the fireplace.
He eyes the chair uncertainly but doesn’t question my motive. When he’s sat down, I place a glass in front of him before rounding the desk and taking my seat.
“Jeez, Dami.” He laughs nervously. “Why so formal?”
“You know I’ll always be obliged to you for having my back.”
“But?” he asks, more caution slipping into his tone.
“But hurt my wife, and you hurt me.”
“Whoa.” He raises his hands. “I didn’t hurt Lina. She hurt herself. She’s crazy. You do know that, right?”
“She has no skin left on her wrist.”
“I told her not to struggle.”
“You should’ve used padded cuffs.”
“Metal is all I could find on short notice.”
“Not good enough. I can almost forgive you for your ignorance on that one, but not for letting her take a sleeping pill strong enough to send her into a goddamn coma.”
“Dami, the woman—”
“I’m not finished. You disappointed me tonight. I fucking counted on you to keep her out of it.”
“I can’t tell her what to do. She’s your wife. She won’t listen to me.”
“Next time, try harder, or I won’t be as forgiving.”
“Are you for real?” He gets to his feet. “Are you blaming the fact that she gatecrashed your torturing party on me?”
“I trust you to have my back. Tonight, you didn’t.”
“Keeping your wife innocent doesn’t count as having your back. Not in my book.”
“It does in mine. Is that clear enough, or do you need a memo?”
“Dami.”
“Don’t test me. Not on this.”
“Fine. I’m sorry about her wrist and for letting her trip on a pill, and I’m sorry if I was supposed to detain her tonight.”
“Distract, not detain.”
“Distract,” he agrees feebly.
“I accept your apology.” I lift my glass. “Are we good?”
Reluctantly, he picks up his. “We’re good.”
He downs the drink and slams the glass down on the desk. “Is she going to become an issue?”
Anger pulls at my patience. “Explain what you mean with issue.”
“Is she going to come between us?”
I pin him with a stare. “Between what exactly, Zane? What are you assuming is between us?”
He swallows. “Friendship. Is she going to come between our friendship?”
“Not unless you make the fact that I married her a problem.”
He lifts his hands again. “No problem.” His smile turns wry. “I’m only watching out for you.” Walking to the door, he throws in, “As I’ve always done.”
He doesn’t slam the door, but he doesn’t close it quietly, either.
I’m going to have to keep an eye on Zane. It’ll hurt me to kick him out, but I meant what I said. Lina comes first. She may hate me as much as Zane is loyal, but she is my wife.