Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 108376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
When he didn’t immediately respond I looked up and found him frowning. A heavy silence fell between us. His attention was focused on my chest where the mark hummed with life, and again I wondered if he could somehow sense it.
“I hadn’t intended to,” I said, trying to explain how it all came about. “He got cut by some broken glass right before a riot broke out in the prison. I’d been starving for blood, trying to suppress the hunger for days. Then I saw him bleeding and I just… lost control.”
“Right,” Peter nodded, something ticking in his jaw. I could see his mind racing because we both knew feeding was an intimate act. I wouldn’t like to imagine him letting another woman feed from him. The very idea made me feel sick.
He was quiet for so long that I started to worry. Finally, he stood from the bed, dragging a hand through his hair. “I, um, I promised Arthur I’d bring him for ice-cream. It was the only way to get him to stop crying.”
“Don’t go, Peter. Let’s talk about this.”
His expression wavered. “We will, just not right now.”
“I can come with you,” I said, standing, too. “To get ice-cream, and then maybe we can—”
“I promised it would be just the two of us, and I have an evening shift at the Market Below, so I’ll stop by your place later tonight.” He barely met my eyes and my stomach plummeted. My confession hurt him, that much was clear. He was trying not to let it show and that was even more heart breaking. I hated myself, hated that I’d made him feel this way. All I wanted to do was make things better, but it wasn’t in my power.
“I’ll see you later then,” I said as we left the bedroom, going up on my tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his lips. He didn’t return the kiss like he normally did, but he didn’t push me away either.
3.
I left the house and was halfway to my car when I spotted Angela. Her face lit up in a smile when she saw me, which made me feel even worse. If her smile at seeing me was as natural as it looked, then she didn’t have any designs on Peter. My jealousy had been completely misplaced. Perhaps a part of me even wanted it to be true, because then the feelings and attraction I’d felt for Vas wouldn’t cause me quite so much guilt.
“Darya, oh my goodness. It’s so great to see you! I knew there was no truth to the rumours,” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around me. I returned her hug because it was good to see her, too. Despite everything, it was a relief to be back in a place where there was no Mack or Vincent, no prisoners lurking around every corner wanting to do me harm.
“What exactly were the rumours?” I asked when she released me from the hug. Peter had known the truth about me going undercover but he wasn’t allowed to tell anyone about it.
“People were saying you’d been sent away for murdering Belinda. It made me so mad because I know you could never kill anyone. I mean, you and Belinda had your differences but that didn’t mean you’d want to murder her. Peter was so heartbroken missing you. He must be over the moon to have you back,” she said and once again guilt stabbed me in the stomach. “So, where have you been?”
“I’m not sure you’d believe me if I told you.”
Her eyebrows raised at my answer but she seemed to know not to push. “Okay, well, I won’t pry then. I better get inside. I’m sure Peter’s told you all about his poor mother and his dad leaving them.”
“Yes, and he told me how you’ve been helping mind the boys. That’s very kind of you.”
“Oh, it’s not a chore. I love kids, and I like to keep busy so it’s a win-win.” As she said it, I saw a faint flicker of unhappiness glaze her eyes and I knew it was because of what Peter said. Angela still wasn’t over the attack.
She moved to go inside but I reached out to touch her arm. “Wait, Ange,” I said, then paused, unsure how to word what I wanted to say to her.
She lifted her eyebrows in expectation. “Darya?”
“I just…Peter mentioned something about you still having a hard time with what happened and I want you to know you can talk to me if you ever need someone to listen.”
Angela’s cheery expression faltered, a cloud forming, and she glanced away. “Peter shouldn’t have said anything.”
“I know, and he didn’t want to. It’s my fault. I got a little bit weird when he told me you’d been coming over. I was jealous, thinking maybe something was going on and—”