Series: Werewolves of Wall Street Series by Renee Rose
Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Did he hear? If he knows she’s my mate, he’ll try to kill her.
Once more, I’m in the woods. The hunter’s on his knees. My father presses a knife into my hand. I’m supposed to stab Aubrey.
No, not Aubrey.
It’s a wedding. She’s safe. She’s not in the woods on her knees.
“I think…I think things are really complicated.” I see a depth of sorrow in Aubrey’s eyes, but I don’t understand it.
I barely know where I am.
“Billy, I don’t even know if we’re in a relationship. I don’t think we are because if we were, we could work through this stuff together.”
Wait. What is she saying? I catch sadness in her scent, and it makes me want to fall to my knees.
I made her sad. I lost control.
I’m a violent, dangerous wolf. I’m not safe to be with a human. I’m not fit to mate.
Her hand still cradles my cheek. I catch it and hold it there. I don’t want her to ever let go of me.
“You need to figure out what you want. So do I. Let’s take some space and do that.”
Take…some space?
Fuck.
She’s breaking up with me.
I can’t make my lips move. Can’t figure out any words to say. I’m the fixer for the pack and the company, but I’m at a complete loss for how to fix this.
“Aubrey.” There. I said something. Except I don’t know what to say next. I don’t know what the right words are. Where to take the conversation.
My brain is unwired. Powered down. I don’t know what Aubrey wants or how to make her stay.
I don’t know how to be anything but the man I hate.
William White’s scrappy runt of a son. The one who learned to be violent, ruthless, and cunning to survive.
I don’t know how to be the kind of mate Aubrey deserves.
Her face comes closer to mine. I blink as she stands on her tiptoes and presses a kiss against my lips.
“Don’t,” I murmur.
She lets out a little whimper as she pulls away.
“Wait.” I catch her elbow.
She looks into my eyes. “I love you.”
My heart detonates. My head explodes. I want to say it back. I want to drop to my knees and beg for forgiveness except I’m not sure what part upset her. I’m confused because she doesn’t seem upset. Just sad.
I love you.
I want you.
You’re my mate.
The words ring out in my head, but no sound comes from my lips, and she’s already walking away.
Already leaving me behind.
I stand perfectly still and watch the best thing that ever happened to me walk out of my life.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Aubrey
The next day, a knock sounds on my door.
I’m still in my pajamas even though it’s two in the afternoon. I have no intention of getting out of bed today, much less getting dressed.
Tomorrow I will drag myself back to school, get through finals, and graduate. I have the money from painting Billy’s mural to live on while I figure out next steps.
I still owe him the second one, but I can’t be in his penthouse right now. Not even with him at work.
The tears I’ve been holding at bay would overwhelm me.
Getting through the wedding last night was painful, but I couldn’t run away and cry my eyes out. It was my best friend’s big night. I had to put on my game face, smile, dance and cheer her on until she and Brick drove away in the limo we decorated with shaving cream and tin cans. I had to hide the fact that I was dying inside.
Billy haunted me like a ghost last night. He remained in robot mode–withdrawn and silent–but every time I turned around, he’d positioned himself on the sidelines where he could watch me like a bodyguard. Available to jump in and help when I needed it. Hanging back when I didn’t.
He’s still worried about my safety, but I refused to stay at his place, so he had two burly guys drive me home. They’re still parked outside on the street.
Sensing that he was hurting, too, made my heart break even more.
I kept questioning myself. I know he was in a trauma response from seeing his father. It’s not that I don’t cut him all the slack.
But twice he’s been directly asked whether I’m his mate–once by Brick and once by me–and he couldn’t answer.
I have too much pride to let myself get dragged around in his mess without even knowing if he wants me to stick around.
I figure I’m doing him a favor. Either he’ll decide he wants me, and he’ll show up for this relationship, and we'll get it all out on the table, or I let him out of a complicated situation, and he’ll feel relieved that he didn’t have to slum with a human anymore.
The knock sounds again. “Ms. Cook?” Even if I didn’t recognize that formal baritone, the accompanying yip of my dog forces me to sit up.