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Those three words were so bald that it made me feel humiliated—and furious. “It’s not just my face, actually. My body’s in pretty bad shape too. Do you want to see? Since you think you have the right to anything you want?”
When I grabbed the hem of my shirt, staring at him defiantly, his gaze flared with heat.
“I think you’ve forgotten that you are my prisoner, and I do have the right to an answer to my questions.” All that alpha arrogance bled into the rumble of his voice.
“I might be your prisoner, but I’m not your bitch,” I warned him.
His jaw set as he faced me, folding his arms over his broad chest. Even though he glowered down at me, even though I’d seen him kill his way through half the fighters in my pack, I didn’t get the feeling he would hurtme.
“Answer the goddamn question, Amelia. This is the easiest it’s going to get.”
“Why do you want to know?”
Indecision warred on his face, the first emotion I’d seen besides fury or arrogance. He was trying to decide how to answer, and he settled on, “Because if someone hurt the mother of Brennan’s kid, I’d take great pleasure in destroying them.”
The thought of Stone facing Nathan sent a shiver down my spine. “Did you destroy Nathan?”
He went silent for a few seconds before saying, “That fall should have killed him.”
“But you didn’t recover his body.”
“I won’t believe he’s really dead until I see him,” Stone said.
“Me either.”
Stone nodded. “Look at that. We agree on something. The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.”
For a second, there was a glint of humor in his gaze. Then he started walking.
“Where are we going?”
“You’re coming with me.” He didn’t bother to answer my question, and he didn’t bother to look back.
“It would cost you zero dollars to answer my questions, instead of doing this obnoxious power play.”
“I’m aware.”
I gave up and scrabbled after him, because what was I going to do? Walk back to the house? Stone could easily pick me up and force me to go where he wanted, and I was terrified of being manhandled.
When Stone led me into a small white waiting room with simple blue plastic chairs and a receptionist sitting beside the door, I realized he must have taken me to the pack medical clinic. I glanced at him sideways as the receptionist jumped to her feet. Why hadn't he just told me he wanted me to see a doctor?
"I need Doc to see her, now." Stone told the wide-eyed blond receptionist.
"Of course!" she said cheerfully. "Just one minute. I'll get her set up in an exam room."
She headed into the hallway, but Stone caught the door and swept his arm, gesturing me through.
“I think she wants us to wait,” I whispered.
“Walk, Amelia.” He settled his hand on my lower back and guided me forward, then dropped his hand almost as soon as he had touched me.
But I could still feel the heat of his hand as I moved forward, feeling uncertain.
The receptionist came back out of one of the exam rooms, and the doctor—a woman in her fifties with a gray ponytail and exasperated expression—followed her.
“You can wait your turn,” she told me, pointing to an exam room. “I’ve got a broken arm to set. Melissa can take your vitals.”
She spoke to me, but she glared at Stone as if she knew who was really calling the shots.
