Page 102 of Moros

He was desperate.

That was why he’d called me. He wanted to know what I was thinking and that shouldn’t really have been a surprised for him.

He’s known me long enough to know when I was absolutely feral.

And it wasn’t even for the fact he went after Ryanne. I didn’t know her then. It was the fucking idea he had someone torch my joint—that alone deserved the death penalty.

But because of Boss, I was willing to have him arrested and handed over to the military system for his punishment. The crimes he’d done to Ryanne and others who he’d murdered for money may not go punished.

What he did to my team—well, he had the end he deserved waiting.

By the time I made it back home, Ryanne was on my laptop reworking her resume. She seemed tired but she made me a sandwich and had it waiting for me. I poured myself a drink, set my food on the table then knelt in front of her to rest my head on her lap.

She said nothing—instead, she caressed my head back then began massaging the back of my neck. Each time she did that, the stress evaporated slowly and after the headache began retreating.

“Want to talk about it?” She asked.

“Mm.” I didn’t move.

“Maybe I should take you to bed?”

I would have loved that, but the sooner we could talk, the sooner I figured we could get this over with.

Ryanne sat with me so I could eat.

“How’s the hunt going?” I asked around a bite of my sandwich.

“Nothing out there for a washed-up waitress with no other experience or education to show for anything.” Her voice was soft, sad. “I feel like right now, I’m just waiting to die. Soon, I’ll be out of savings and then what I’m going to do?”

I said nothing.

Nothing I said in this situation would be good.

Nothing I was thinking to say in this situation would make her smile.

The alpha in me wanted to stand up and protect her—to pay for everything, to insist on doing that.

But I knew her—she would never be okay with that.

She would rather stab me for breathing rather than sat back and allow me to take care of her like that. She’s proven repeatedly that all she wanted from me was my body and my heart.

Still, I wanted to make her happy. I wanted to make her life easy.

What was the use of having all this money and my woman was miserable?

My woman…

“What are you thinking?” Ryanne asked.

I shook my head.

“Pasha should have been here already.” I told her instead of what I was really thinking. “Did she call the house?”

“You have a house phone?” Ryanne arched a brow.

“Um—yes. In the office and my bedroom—how’d you miss that?”

“Because the only thing I’ve done in your bedroom is sleep and—” She stopped and covered her mouth.

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