Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Chancing that she might get lost, she traced her steps back to the dunes and headed toward the forest. She hardly made it to the trees before Peter caught up with her.
“Wendy, wait!”
Oh, now they were friends. “Leave me alone, Peter.”
“You can’t leave.”
“I can, and I am.”
He caught her arm. “You don’t know the way.”
Apparently, his little tussle with The Future Missus had concluded. She glanced over his shoulder, and the dusky beauty was gone.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were engaged?”
He waved away her words. “Because I’m never getting married. Marriage doesn’t interest me.”
That much was clear. “I want to go home.”
“Well, we aren’t heading back to the house for at least—”
“Not your house, Peter. I want to go home, to my house.”
He laughed as if confused. “Why? You haven’t even done anything fun yet.”
“Is this what fun is to you? Having sex with random strangers at a lagoon?”
“Yes.” His crowing laughter mocked her, and she frowned.
“Well, it’s not fun to me.”
“Maybe it would be if you loosened up a little.”
She had the urge to slap him so his other cheek matched the one wearing the red handprint of his fiancée. “Grow up, Peter.”
“I am grown up.”
“No, you’re not. You’re just an entitled little boy trapped in the body of a man, terrified that people won’t like you anymore if you stop spoiling them with lavish gifts. Maybe if you thought about someone other than yourself for a change, you’d have real friends. Instead, you just have an entourage of people reliant on you, much like I’m reliant on you to get home. Their loyalty isn’t earned. It’s bought. And the sad part is—since you brag so often about being a master of avoidance when it comes to real responsibility—I don’t even think you’re the one footing the bill.”
His smile faded to a cold scowl. Apparently, she hit a precious, privileged nerve. “The house is that way.”
He pointed past the dunes into the shadows where night creatures chattered and hissed.
When she looked back, he was stomping back to the party where he wouldn’t have his worth as a man challenged. A tear of frustration tripped past her lashes, and she batted it away. No way would she allow some privileged man-child to make her cry.
“You okay?”
Startled, Wendy gasped and pivoted. Cass watched her from the shadows of a nearby tree. How long had he been there?
“Me?” She cleared her throat and wiped her cheeks, hiding the fact that he’d startled her. “I’m fine.”
He pushed off the tree trunk and slowly came closer. “No, you’re not. Girls don’t cry when they’re fine.”
“You’re right. They cry when they’re angry.”
At that, he lifted a brow. “I’ve never heard anyone talk to Peter that way.” He grinned. “You’re pretty badass, Wendy Bird.”
“Please don’t call me that. And Peter was being a jerk. He deserved everything I said.”
Cassian nodded. “He’s had it easy since getting adopted. None of us went to wealthy families except Peter.”
Calling the Pangbournes wealthy seemed like an understatement. “Having money doesn’t entitle someone to treat others like crap.”
“No, his privilege makes it easy. No one ever calls him out the way you did. And if they do, Peter cuts them off.”
She sighed. How was she ever getting home?
“Don’t worry. He’ll do the right thing eventually. Image is important to the Pangbournes. He’s just gotta blow off some steam first.”
Wendy crossed her arms and shivered. She’d only apologize if he took her home. Until then, she wouldn’t trust him. He was already back among the women, having his ego and other things stroked.
She sighed, and Cassian held out his arms for a hug. “Bring it in.”
Wendy hesitated, then closed the distance. He wrapped her in a tight bear hug and held her for several heartbeats.
“He doesn’t mean the stuff he says.”
She pulled back from his warmth and looked into his eyes. “Don’t make excuses for him.”
“I’m not. Peter’s complicated. We all are. That’s what happens when you grow up in an orphanage. Survival makes you selfish. The twins lost their parents in a fire. Nibbs lost his in a car accident. With my mom, it was drugs. But Peter… He was abused for a long time before they rescued him. Unfortunately, the orphanage wasn’t the sanctuary many thought.”
“They were that cruel?”
He nodded. “Peter never knew it could be different until he was adopted. And once he realized some adults were actually nice, he never wanted to think about the nasty ones again.”
“Did the rest of you ever get adopted?”
“No, we ran away. We found Peter, and he helped us hide until we came of age. Then we didn’t have to run anymore.”
“Hide where?”
He grinned as if to say some secrets were meant to go to the grave.
She now understood that there was more to the story. Perhaps there was love to their loyalty after all. “I shouldn’t have said those things to him.”