Series: Werewolves of Wall Street Series by Renee Rose
Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
“You can’t blame yourself for everything,” I cut in. “It sounds like the Adalwulfs did something reckless.” I don’t know all the details. I need more information. But more than that, I need to ease the defeated expression on Brick’s face.
“Yes, Madi, I can. I never should’ve left you.”
I bite my lip. He’s right. But no one could’ve predicted this.
“Do you think my mother was behind the attack?” he asks quietly.
“She was not.” I attempt to use that cutting authority in my voice that Brick wields. “I called her to come to me. She tried to keep me in the safe room and would have died if I hadn’t come out.”
Billy ignores me and continues to look at Brick.
There’s anguish in Brick’s eyes, likely the same anguish he’s held since the day his father died. It must be horrific to not know if you can trust your own mother.
“If Odin’s really lost his mind and is making some kind of last-ditch attempt to take you down, it stands to reason he would be willing to kill his own sister if she stood in his way,” Vance muses.
“The seeress might have foretold her alliance with Madi,” Jake offers.
“She predicted Madi would be your–” Billy stops short at Brick’s glare.
“His what?” I ask.
Billy shakes his head. “Nevermind. It’s just a rumor they spread to try to weaken our pack.”
“What was the rumor?” I attempt to use that authoritative voice again. I’m the alpha’s mate, not their goddamn assistant anymore. They should answer my questions.
Billy looks to Brick, who is frowning.
“Problems can’t be solved without the facts,” I say.
The air charges when still no one answers me. That’s when I lose patience. “Okay.” I turn to walk out of the kitchen. “I’m leaving.”
No one follows when I walk into the bedroom. I hear their voices continue the discussion the moment I walk out. My limp spoils my dramatic exit, but that’s fine. I’m not throwing a tantrum. I’m done here.
I’m not done with Brick. I understand he and I are inextricably entwined until the day he dies. But this doesn’t work for me. I’m not available for being hidden like a dirty secret or being relegated to lower status. I’m not interested in the kind of marriage or partnership his parents had.
He has a lot to figure out.
So do I.
Like what I’m going to do for a career now.
I put on the clothes Jake handed me. The outfit is clearly resort-bought loungewear–probably from the spa area. The buttery-soft fabric in pale peach feels good against my cold-burned skin.
I don’t have anything I own here–not a scrap of clothing, not my cell phone to call Aubrey, not a credit card to buy myself a plane ticket home.
I hate feeling so dependent on Brick.
I need ice for my ankle, and I don’t even want to ask for that. I slip on the pair of warm woolen socks that came with the loungewear set and make my way back out to the kitchen where the guys are still all gathered.
Brick looks like he’s aged ten years in the last few weeks. Tension lines tug his brows together and his lips downward. He catches my gaze, and I see conflict and regret swim in his dark eyes.
When he holds an arm out to me, I step into his embrace, allowing him to pull me close and draw in my scent. I wait until my scent relaxes him before I drop my bomb.
“I need to go home.”
Brick
I’m not surprised by Madi’s statement, but it guts me. Of course, she wants to go home. She was just kidnapped and dropped on ice to be hunted by packs of brazen wolves. And that was after I left her alone on an island, so I could pretend to look for a mate.
Right now, I’m just grateful she’s allowing me to hold her.
“Get the jet here,” I order Jake.
“The jet is already en route with all of Madi’s things. Touchdown in twenty minutes,” Jake replies.
“Someone get a doctor,” I bark.
“No doctor,” Madi corrects, her voice firm. “I just need ice for my ankle.”
Billy disappears and reappears with a bottle of water, a protein bar, and a first aid kit.
I stand by, helpless, as my mate takes care of her own medical care. She squeezes the instant ice pack until it activates and secures it around her ankle with stretchy blue wrap.
“It’s just like Grey’s Anatomy,” Vance whispers to Jake.
“I want the plane refueled and prepared to fly us back to New York. What about my mom?” I ask Vance. “When can she be moved?”
“She has her own jet in Greece waiting to take her home as soon as she feels able.”
“Will she be safe in Manhattan?” Nickel asks. “I mean, if they were really going to kill her on the island, will she now be considered a defector? She may need your protection, Brick.”