“No way in hell,” Dalton replied.
“The numbers don’t lie, Cavendish,” Chance practically sang.
“I know Adamson,” Dalton said in disbelief.
“Like we know you?” Chance wheedled.
“He wouldn’t do this. The Vampire is loyal to a fault.”
“He’s dirty,” I replied. “The evidence is extensive.”
Dalton was silent for a long moment. “Can I see what you have?”
“Chance?” I asked.
“I’ll get my laptop, since yours is shit,” he grumbled as he stomped away.
I stared at my mate. Even with the remote look in her eyes and her face void of expression, she was still so beautiful that it made me ache. I didn’t understand how I’d missed how muchpain she was in—pain that I was causing. She always looked so ready to take on the world when I saw her.
Realization hit without warning. She hadn’t just been keeping the effects of the mating heat to herself.
She’d been actively hiding it.
The showers she’d barely finished when I walked through the door. The light conversation that didn’t really touch on anything she’d done while I was gone.
“Come with me,” I ordered, rising to my feet.
Chance could answer any questions that Gary and Dalton had.
Without a word, Rosemary rose and followed me out of the room. I paused long enough for her to slip on a pair of boots before leading her out the back door. The rain had stopped, but the air was thick with moisture as I led her to the barn.
“Did a little cleaning today?” I asked as I looked around the space.
“I had some time on my hands.”
“Why?” I asked, turning to face her. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“What would it have changed?” she shot back, pulling her hand from mine. “Would you have stopped going? No. Would you have taken me with you? Also, no. So why would I say anything?”
“Because I’m your mate,” I argued. “Because I have a right to know if something is hurting you!”
“You knew it was hurting me,” she countered. “You knew, but you thought I could handle it, so you just kept doing it.”
“That’s not it?—”
“Isn’t it?” she asked. “I told you I had a high pain tolerance, so you thought that gave you permission to do something that you knew would hurt me.”
“I know it’s uncomfortable,” I replied.
“Uncomfortable for you,” she spat. “Not for me. Uncomfortable is the flu. Uncomfortable is being tied to a chair for a week. Uncomfortable is spraining your ankle. When you leave, it isn’tuncomfortable. I can’tthinkstraight. My entire body seems to be working toward one goal—driving me insane.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said, reaching for her. “I didn’t know?—”
“I ran our entire driveway barefoot today,” she said, jerking away. “I didn’t even have a bra on.”
“I was fine. I just?—”
“Iknowthat,” she said, throwing her hands in the air. “And if the paranoia hadn’t gotten so bad, I would’ve known that then. But I didn’t. I was convinced that you were in trouble or dead somewhere. I was practically fucking feral!”
