Page 106 of Mark & Don't Tell

“It’s not enough,” Kai says.

“Definitely not. Don’t you want a bed?” Linc frowns and searches my face, understanding flashing across his face. “You’re worried we’ll run out of money?”

“No,” I lie, despite knowing he can see through me. “I’m just saying, there’s no reason to buy things when we have all of this.” I sweep my hand around the room, ignoring the voice in the back of my head telling me they’re right. This is a pathetic excuse for a nest.

Even my apartment had a real bed.

But buying a new one, with a frame and headboard and everything is easily a thousand dollars, and that’s the cheapest option. These guys wouldn’t want that; they’d probably spend at least three thousand. Then there’s everything else—like slick-proof sheets, various pillows to help with positioning, room-darkening shades, more twinkle lights because the ones I bought won’t even wrap around half the room. It would be expensive to make a nest I’d truly love.

And, yeah, maybe there is a gut-clenching panic in my stomach. A louder voice in my head screaming that we can’t afford to buy things. That, as soon as we do, something horrible will happen and whatever money they have will be gone, and we all know I’m not rolling in dough.

“Look, I can order whatever bed you want and have it delivered tomorrow.” Kai acts like it’s that easy. Like spending that kind of money means nothing.

But to someone who’s had close to nothing, that kind of cash means everything.

“And whatever else you want,” Linc adds.

“No, it’s too much,” I tell them.

“It’s not,” Lincoln presses.

“Why are you pressuring me? I said this is fine,” I growl, roughly folding a hoodie. The stupid hood messes everything up, and I release a frustrated breath, shaking it out to start all over.

“Daria—”

“What?” I snap at Vic, then wince. God, I’m being so unhinged. “Sorry. I’m sorry,” I tell him, and he nods, nothing but understanding on his face.

“What’s going on?” He comes toward me, and I drop the stupid sweater and put my hands on my hips.

“What’s going on is, we can’t spend your money on something as silly as my nest.”

Vic’s head rears back. “Since when is your nest silly?”

“Since you guys clearly don’t think this is enough, and furnishing it will cost at least five grand.”

Vic stops in front of me, gaze dropping to the collar around my neck. “Would you believe me if I said that money is not a problem?”

I press my lips together and look away. He can say it, they all can, but I don’t know that it’ll take away the sickness that accompanies the thought of spending that kind of money.

“Little doe,” he coaxes. “Look at me, mi amor.”

Chewing on my cheek, I slowly bring my eyes to meet his. “It’s so much money,” I tell him, voice shaky.

“I know.” He cups my face and smooths his thumbs over my cheek. “We wouldn’t offer to spend it if we didn’t have it. I know it might take a while for you to believe it, but you don’t have to worry about having enough money to buy groceries.”

I scrunch my face. How did he know that was something I was dealing with? Almost every time he came over, one of those accidental deliveries had shown up. Unless...he had been in my apartment before then, and?—

“It was you.”

Vic nods. “Please don’t be mad at me. I couldn’t sit by and watch you struggle to eat.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” I whisper, shame coloring my cheeks.

“You didn’t need to, little doe. I wanted to take care of you. We want to take care of you, and your nest is one of the most important places for our pack. If it bothers you to know we’re spending money on you, think of it as us spending money on us. We’re the ones who help you through your heat. Don’t you think we deserve a bigger bed, so we can all fit?”

I pinch my eyes shut to keep the tears from spilling out, but a few escape. “I hate it when you use logic.”

He chuckles and kisses my cheeks, stopping the tears. “Can we help you make this nest worthy of our pack?”

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