Even if he didn’t change his mind.
“Why is sparing Dante so important to you?” Murphy asked darkly, his voice dropping to a low pitch. “You don’t even know him.”
“Because she’s me!” Nessa shouted, her breath hitching as her eyes began to water. She clenched her jaw, blinking quickly.
Murphy paused, confused. “Who?”
“Angela.” Her chin wobbled, and she looked away from him. “When I saw her, it was like looking into the past and seeing myself after I’d finally escaped Tony; broken and traumatized, but still trying to persevere. You don’t know what she went through, butIdo,” she whispered hoarsely.
“She told me everything, but I didn’t have to hear a word to know she was a survivor. Like me.” Nessa thumped her palmagainst her chest, balancing the cardboard box at her side. “I lived something similar, and I know, Murphy,I knowthat if you had found me in Chicago, if you’d seen how Tony treated me,what hedid to me, you’d have done whatever he demanded if it meant freeing me.”
“I would have killed him,” he answered, fury coating every word.
“And if you couldn’t? If he knew how much I meant to you and had the power to take me away from you forever? What would you have done then?” A tear slid down her cheek, another quickly following it. “You would have done whatever he wanted. We both know it, so why are you pretending Dante is some evil man when he’s not?”
Murphy’s chest tightened, and his throat constricted with emotion at the distress pouring from his mate. “Nes—”
“Unless you tell me right now that you’ll spare Dante, I don’t want to hear it, Murphy.”
He closed his mouth, fists clenched at his sides. Should he go to his mate, comfort her and tell her everything she wanted to hear? Or disappoint her with the decision he had to make?
Nessa nodded in defeat. “I’m going to go take a bath, and then I’m going to bed. It suddenly feels like a really long day, and I just want to sleep.”
“Nessa, wait—” Murphy began, his lungs burning and his heart in his throat.
She pushed past him, only to pause briefly, thrusting the small box into his hands. “I know how much you love sweets, so I got this for you.”
Then she left, hurrying down the hall and toward her bedroom. He heard the door open and shut behind him, the soft sound nearly deafening in the silence that followed.
He stared down at the box for the longest time before curiosity eventually got the best of him. Lifting the lid, the scent ofchocolate and fudge had his stomach growling with hunger despite his foul mood. He was surprised he hadn’t noticed the rich scents before.
His mate had gotten him a cake. His heart clenched painfully, the ache increasing the longer he looked upon the box’s contents. Such a small gesture, yet he felt her love a hundred-fold with this gift.
And he’d unknowingly repaid it by making her cry.
“Son of a bitch.”
Chapter 41
Nessa punched the total into the register, smiling tightly at her customer as she read the price aloud after tax. She loved her job, but after a night of restless sleep, she was more than ready to close up and head home. Her head just wasn’t in it right now.
Once she’d taken the credit card handed to her, swiped it and bagged the tea, she all but shooed the customer out the door, eager to be alone with her thoughts.
Well, as alone as she could be, given her agitating companion.
“So,” Jasper drawled, his focus shifting from the retreating customer and back to Nessa. He’d been watching her all morning, trying and failing to strike up a conversation. She’d hoped he’d take the hint and let them continue their day in silence, but he hadn’t. Not yet. “You’re in a snit.”
“I am not in a snit,” Nessa argued, snatching a box of sample tea bags from the cabinet beneath the register. She began placing them in an orderly, aesthetic fashion on a small plate on the counter, doing her best to ignore the bear who was sitting beside her.
She just wanted some time to collect herself and process the last twenty-four hours. Seeing Angela, hearing her story … It had dragged a lot of long-buried feelings to the surface that she’d tried so hard to put behind her.
After her talk with Murphy last night, she’d hoped taking a bath would help clear her mind from the tumultuous thoughts plaguing her. It didn’t. Nor did avoiding him afterward. She’d stayed in the bedroom, licking her metaphorical wounds until she’d finally fallen asleep.
Murphy had left her alone, and she couldn’t tell if that had made her feel better or infinitely worse. Part of her had hoped he’d barge into her room and tell her he’d seen the light and would do whatever she said. He hadn’t, though she’d woken up briefly when he’d climbed into bed with her in the middle of the night.
Even upset, she’d turned into his embrace as he’d curled himself around her, still needing to be closer to him. She felt awful for the small wall she’d erected between them, and she was very aware of how complex everything was.
She didn’t even know Dante, nor had she been a part of Murphy’s bear clan when he’d betrayed everyone. Logically, she understood that whatever happened, it wasn’t her decision to make. Rightfully, she didn’t deserve a say in the judgment either.
