“How about we go back to my place and relax?” she suggested. “I know you’re stressed about this, and I’m sorry that I made it worse.”
He cupped her chin, tilting her head back so he could look down into those deep pools of chocolate he cherished so much. “You only make things better, Nes.”
A small smile danced across her lips before she ducked out from under his arms. Ignoring his small grumble at the loss of contact, she moved quickly around the teahouse, cleaning up a few tables and straightening some chairs before she headed tothe back office and grabbed her purse, along with a small, sealed cardboard box.
A cleaning company would stop by in the next few hours to finish the job, and by morning, her business would be spotless.
As they left, Nessa locked the door and then handed him her car keys, following him toward her SUV. He helped her into the vehicle before moving around the car and climbing awkwardly into the driver’s seat. His mate was petite, and she’d pushed the seat up as far as it would go, leaving him with zero leg room.
Adjusting it until he didn’t feel squished, Murphy began the short drive back to her place, the silence stretching between them only interrupted by the rumbling of the SUV. What was less than a ten-minute drive seemed to stretch on forever.
He didn’t like it. Nessa was a chatterbox by nature, and this wasn’t like her.
Not at all.
Was she upset with his behavior, or was she upset over something Angela had told her? Did she feel guilty?
He wanted to ask, but the thought of discussing Dante yet again had his upper lip curling into a snarl and a silent rumble building in his chest, on the verge of exploding from him like a bomb.
Nessa’s fingers began tapping a light rhythm on her knee, the movement quick. Frantic, almost.
As they pulled into her neighborhood, he couldn’t take it anymore.
“What’s wrong?” he asked sharply, fingers tightening on the steering wheel. The leather creaked in his hands, and he eased his grip, not wanting to damage her SUV a second time.
Nessa startled in her seat, turning her head toward him. “Nothing.”
“Nessa,” he warned, turning onto her street. “I know you well enough to realize that complete silence isn’t exactly normal foryou.” She turned back to face the front, staring blankly out the windshield as he pulled into her driveway. Shutting off the car, he sighed. “If it’s about my behavior—”
“I think you need to spare Dante,” Nessa said in a rush, grabbing the handle of her door and pushing it open, exiting quickly.
“What?” Murphy snapped, only for her car door to slam behind her, leaving him stunned and alone in the vehicle. “What the hell?”
All but jumping from the SUV, he had barely closed the door before he hurried after her to the front porch, her keys held so hard in his hand the metal dug into his skin.
“You’re running from me,” he accused once he’d caught up to her.
She didn’t look at him, innocently waiting for him to let her inside. “No, I’m not.”
Muttering under his breath, he unlocked her door and ushered her inside, closing it behind him. “I’m not sparing Dante. He needs to die.”
Nessa hung her purse on the coat rack, the small box still in her hand as she pivoted to face him. “Why? Because it will make you look weak? I’ve thought it over, and I hate your reasoning. Who cares what other people think?”
“What kind of mate would I be if I let your attacker go free?” Murphy snarled, that same bitter rage festering to the surface like an infected wound. Aside from how others would perceive his pack for showing leniency to a traitor, how would they perceive him as a mate?
A failure? Unworthy? Nessa deserved to be cared for, protected and loved above all else, and if he couldn’t ensure that, what place did he hold in her life?
Nessa rolled her eyes. “He didn’t attack me.”
“He did everything to make it happen!” Murphy bellowed, upset at the topic and the memories it brought forth. He swore he could smell the coppery tang of her blood in the air, that he could hear her small cries of terror and agony echoing in his ears. “He laid the groundwork for your death, whether or not he intended for you to be there that night. You were. He is responsible for your pain and suffering. He will pay for that.”
With his life! No matter who might grieve for him. No matter how this might break Murphy or his clan.
“Then disown him or-or exile him. That’s a thing, right? Send him away to Angela’s pack and forbid him from ever coming back! That’s punishment enough!”
Irate that his mate would question his judgment, Murphy stomped from the entryway and down the hall, seething. Just as quickly, he spun around, stalking back toward her. She didn’t flinch, didn’t shy away from him, and that helped ease some of the raging emotions buzzing around inside of him.
She wasn’t afraid to argue with him, wasn’t afraid to voice her opinion, and for that alone, he’d listen to her.
