Wicked Cravings - Page 53/107

“Dante won’t let you die.”

An ugly snort popped out of Jaime. “I doubt he’d be much good in an emergency with me. I’ve tried calling him about fifty times, but has he answered? No. Has Beta Boy taken his attention away from his job for even one second for me? No. I should just call him. I should just call him and tell him exactly what I think of him. No, I shouldn’t. Here, take my phone. Don’t let me call him.” She fished her BlackBerry out of her pocket and handed it to Shaya.

“I got your back. You’re like the sister I never had. Did I ever tell you that?”

“Aw, sweetie, right back at you. You know that I love you, right? Seriously, I’m not just saying it because I’m tipsy. I really do love you. You and me are tight. We’re like this.” She crossed her fingers. Shaya nodded, mimicking the move. “I mean, if you hadn’t been here for me tonight, I dunno what I would’ve done.”

“It’s the least I can do. You’ve been here for me, too. Like with the Nick thing. I still can’t believe how he’s acting.”

“You know, we should totally get a gun and a shovel and take care of that guy. I told him to stay away from you, you know. Oh yeah, I warned him away. I don’t think he’ll stay away. But we can shoot him when he comes here.”

A look of pure excitement took over Shaya’s face. “Yeah! Let’s go get a gun right now!”

“Ooh yeah, we so should. But wait, I don’t have a permit. You?”

“No. Damn. We’ll get one tomorrow, and then we’ll assassinate His Alpha-ness.” She and Jaime shook hands and nodded.

A random thought suddenly popped into Jaime’s head. “Why do you think spiders travel alone? It has to be pretty lonely. Really lonely. I’m lonely.” Shaya’s head whipped around to face her. “What? Why? No, you can’t be lonely. That’s not allowed.”

“There’s just this big gulf between Dante and me. But it’s fine. It’s totally fine.”

“It’s not fine.”

“No, it’s not. I should tell him that. Gimme my phone.” She held out her hand, but it flopped onto her chest.

“You know, I think he really cares for you.”

Jaime gasped, feeling suddenly optimistic. “You do?”

“It’s practically tattooed on his forehead. Ooh—let’s get a tattoo.”

“Yeah!” Jaime rolled onto her side. “We totally should. Let’s do it tomorrow.”

“Totally. Definitely. What’re you getting? I’m thinking of getting ‘Nick Axton Is a Fuck-Ass’

right across my forehead.”

Jaime pursed her lips as she considered it. “I like it. It’s different. It has an edge to it.”

“I know, right?”

Patting the ground to her left, Jaime frowned. Gazing around and finding no sign of what she was looking for, her frown deepened. “Did you hide my drinks?” Shaya shook her head. “No, why?”

“I came out with, like, eight, and they’re gone.”

“You sure you didn’t drink them all?”

“I can’t have, or I’d be drunk, wouldn’t I?”

“Oh yeah, I never thought of it like that.”

Suddenly four heads were peering down at them, smiling in amusement, but only one held Jaime’s attention. “Hey, Popeye, how’s it going?”

“Popeye,” chuckled Shaya with a pig-like snort. Tao, Trick, and Marcus chuckled, too.

“What you doing down there, baby?” Dante asked, smiling. She was absolutely wasted. Seeing the eight empty bottles at her feet, he could guess why.

“We’re just talking,” replied Jaime. “You’ve heard of talking, right? It’s what people do on the phone. Well, those who answer it.”

Dante winced. Yeah, he deserved that. “I’m sorry, I am. I just had a lot of paperwork, and I was trying to get through it quickly so I could get back to you.”

“Aw, that’s so nice,” whispered Shaya, sounding close to tears.

He squatted down and stroked Jaime’s hair. “Come on, baby, let me take you inside.”

“Dude, you can’t.” Panic was in her voice.

“Why not?”

“We’re supposed to be getting drunk.”

“Well, I think you’ve both accomplished that. Come on, don’t make me go to bed alone. I’ve missed you.”

Shaya looked at Jaime. “Aw, he’s good, isn’t he?”

“His mouth is talented in more ways than one. I recall nearly passing out once.” Both girls went into a giggling fit.

Shaking his head and smiling, Dante picked her up and cradled her against him. Surrounded by her scent, he suddenly felt much more at ease, and the tension that had been riding him all day began to leave his body. Only she had the ability to calm and settle him like that. “Come on. Maybe you can tell me what possessed you to get wasted.”

“That was why I called you,” she mumbled against his T-shirt as he carried her. “I wanted to tell you.”

“Tell me what, baby?”

“Ben’s dead.”

“Ben? Who’s Ben?”

“The dog at the sanctuary. I used to sit in his cage with him.” His eyes fell closed as guilt jabbed him. “Ah, baby, I’m sorry.” He recalled how tenderly she’d stroked the dog, how she’d looked at him with such affection. Christ. Dante didn’t think he’d ever felt this much like shit in his life. There he’d been, with his head buried in his work, deliberately ignoring her attempts to contact him, and all this time she’d really needed him.

Sure, it was his job to take care of the pack, but Jaime was pack, too. He’d been thinking of her as the distracting girlfriend, forgetting that she was also among those who needed him. He’d let down the one person he would never wish to let down, the one person who didn’t deserve it.

“I’m so sorry about Ben, baby,” he said again once they were in their room. Sitting her on the edge of the bed, he tugged off her shoes. “And I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. It was shitty of me not to answer the phone or call you back.”

“Why didn’t you? Don’t you want me anymore? Am I boring you now? Wait! Don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.”

Guilt stabbed him again. He’d made her doubt him, had made her question her own self-worth.