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“I didn’t say you did. I meant anyone. A friend. That’s the sort of thing that you need to get off your chest.”
He shot her a glare. “There’s nothing on my chest.”
She put her hands up in surrender, unwilling to push the subject. “If you say so.” She leaned her weight back on her arms and winced. A sharp pain tore through her collarbone.
“Shit. Brent got you with his silver chain, didn’t he?”
Her hand trailed up to the top of her shirt. She pulled down the material to show her maimed collarbone. Since the fight, the blood had clotted into flaky bits, but the few places that were still raw burned at the touch of her blouse.
“Let me get something for you.”
She held up her hand to stop him. “No, it’s okay. You’re worse off than me. Just take care of your eye.”
“Do you really think I’m going to sit here and baby myself when you have second-degree burns? Who cares if they heal fast? I may seem like an ass sometimes, but I’m notthatmuch of a jerk.” He stood and stalked into the bathroom.
Frankie smiled a little. “I don’t think you seem like an ass. Or a jerk.”
He glanced over his shoulder and eyed her for a long moment. “Thanks.” He grabbed his flask off the counter and strolled back into the room, bypassing the bed. He sat down on the floor in front of her, their knees almost touching.
Before she could protest, he wrapped his arms around her and scooped her into his lap. All of her senses snapped to attention and her mind went rigid—but her body had other plans. It melted into him, all her muscles relaxed.
A small smile crept over his face, and she suddenly wanted to hide in any available space. Anywhere, as long as his smoldering stare couldn’t run over her body and leave her wishing he would undress her with more than his eyes. She glanced down at her hands.
He hooked his index finger under her chin and tilted her head up. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
She swallowed hard. For such a simple question, it felt oddly intimate rolling off his tongue. “Nothing.” She forced herself to be realistic. This was going nowhere. He hated her kind. She could tell by the way he thought of himself.
“I know from dealing with my mother that ‘nothing’ always means ‘something.’ When my dad would come home drunk and rough her up, every time I’d ask her how she was, she’d always say nothing was wrong.”
Crossing her arms over her chest, she folded into herself. “I guess I don’t want to talk about it.”
“That’s a better answer, though I wish you would.”
“I wishyou’dtalk, too—and don’t say that’s different. It’s not.”
A moment of silence passed between them, a suffocating lull.
Frankie sighed. “I’m thinking about what my actions will result in when I return to my pack.”
“I’m sure they’ll be glad that you’re back. By now they’re bound to have realized you’re missing, and can they really punish you for hunting a killer?”
She shook her head. “It’s not that simple.”
He stared at her, waiting for elaboration.
She let out another long sigh. “I’m in a position of power, an especially high position for a female.”
He looked at her expectantly. “What’s wrong with that?”
“There’s nothing wrong with it. I’m ready to accept my obligations and fulfill my duties, but it’s...hard for me to live my life when I’m confined by such strict rules.”
“I try not to play by other’s rules,” he said.
She rolled her eyes. “And we’ve seen what sort of trouble it gets you in. If I step out of line, my position could be challenged, and because I’m a powerful female, there are loads of males who wouldn’t hesitate to kill or defeat me in order to usurp me. I live with the constant knowledge that someday my pinkie toe may barely cross over some line and I’ll end up with a knife in my back.”
“Sounds like a shitty position to be in.”
She thought of all her duties. “In some ways, yes. In others, no. It depends. I know I should do what I want and not allow anyone to dictate to me, but it’s hard, in my position. I have others to think about, people I’m responsible for. I wish I could be like you.”
