“You want to know if I can break into the mansion owned by the guy selling human beings?” I scoff. “Probably, but why the fuck would I want to?”
“Spend a while daydreaming about what he would have done to Vanessa had he gotten his hands on her,” Moretti says, his voice deathly calm. “See if your stance on the matter changes.”
Fuck, man.
I hate that he knows he has me.
Chapter Nineteen
Hawk
Vanessa is hiding from me. The house is big enough that it doesn’t take much effort, but I get concerned when she doesn’t come out for lunch. Pacing does nothing to help, and my instincts are riled.
Hell if I know why.
I’m aggravated, but that ire is directed at Moretti. His sorry ass should have warned me someone was on the property. If I had found Magnum literallyanywhereelse but snuggled under Vanessa, I would have put a bullet in his brain without considering that he might have been an invited guest.
I was tempted to do it, anyway, but what Magnum said clicked in my testosterone-addled mind. If I had executed him, she would have woken up to the mess. That would have been a disaster, and I’m sure it would have made her hate me.
I didn’t kill him.
So why the fuck is she avoiding me?
A quick search of the third floor proves that Vanessa must be in the nest or the bathroom in the pack bedroom. She has my phone number. If she needs me, she’ll call.
That’s what I tell myself, anyway.
I can’t pace the floor bare any longer, or I’m going to lose my fucking mind.
Stopping by my room, I change into workout attire and head down to the gym on the first floor.
I’m never going to be cut like Emory.
I’m too fucking big for that.
Hell, the treadmill creaks and groans every time I step on it.
I’m six-seven and close to three-hundred pounds. I don’t obsess about my weight, but I would never admit that aloud in front of anyone. That’s just what happens when someone is as tall as I am. Muscle weighs more than fat, and even if I did cardio, I’d never have a slim build. I’d fit in better with the defensive line than the offense.
I focus on strength training because that’s what gets me into the gym. If I had to jump rope, run on the treadmill, or hop on the exercise bike, I would never work out.
I stack weights on the barbell, and try not to let myself focus on Magnum. He’s skinny—the opposite of me. If that’s the kind of guy she’s physically attracted to, then I was wasting my time thinking she might be interested in me.
I should have known better.
I’ve seen how women act when Moretti is around. With two other guys vying for Vanessa’s affection, the only way she’ll notice me is if they kill each other.
I’m worn out and sweaty after an hour in the gym. I’m no longer amped up to the point I feel like I’m about to climb out of my skin, but my armpits are rancid, and I need a shower.
I stomp up the stairs and beeline for the pack bedroom. The sitting room still has my pillow and blanket tossed on the couch from where I failed to clean up after myself this morning.
Ignoring that, I knock on the door to the bedroom. Vanessa wasn’t in there last time I checked, but that was over an hour ago.
There’s no answer, so I knock again, louder this time. If she’s in the nest or the bathroom, there’s no way she’ll be able to hear me.
What if she’s taking a nap?
I frown and fish my phone from my pocket as I take a few steps to stand over by the couch. My meaty fingers make texting a nightmare, but I eventually send off a message to Vanessa, letting her know I’ll be in the shower if she needs me.
