Page 75 of The Alpha's Broken Oath

I’m nervous about Jake’s reaction to all this, but deep down, I know everything is going to be okay.

I know even as I breathe in Deacon’s scent, that strong, musky scent of his that has my spine ramrod straight and my heartbeat slowing down, that everything has been cleared, and there should be no reason for us to hold grudges.

As if he can somehow hear my thoughts, Deacon’s fingers sink into my right thigh before slowly drawing circles on my skin.

I pull my gaze away from the window to look at him.

He rejected me because he was protecting me. All these years of me hating him? He never deserved that hate, did he? He had a cruel fucking father, but Deacon Cross was not Foster Cross.

Deacon was Adrian and Asher’s father, and he was and is a good man.

“The last thing you need to do is worry, baby. Jake might be confused, but he was my best friend once upon a time.”

Jake is not only confused, he’s constantly anxious and jumpy, but I don’t tell Deacon that.

“Do you think he’ll believe you?”

His eyes were on the road, but he still managed to give me a quick glance and a smile. Deacon asks me the one question I can’t avoid.

“Do you believe me, Winter Cavanaugh?”

I look at his hand resting on my thigh, and I recall the agony written on his face last night as he begged me not to judge him for the sins of his father.

Making the right decision, my hand rests on his, and I reply with certainty. “I believe you, Deacon.”

“Then, that’s enough for me, baby. It might take some time for Jake to believe my story, but as long as you do, that’s all that fucking matters to me.”

And for a moment, even when thunder clouds roar in the far distance, and even as thick fog stretches on the road before us, I latch onto Deacon’s words because he matters to me, too, so much that I can’t put into words.

The shrill buzzing of the phone inside my purse cuts our silence into two.

An unknown number shines on my screen, and not once do I question myself why my heart is suddenly beating faster.

I step outside the car, and the foreboding unease on my shoulders feels heavier now more than ever.

Swiping my finger across the screen, I take the call.

“Hello?” My voice trembles, almost as if my wolf’s instincts can somehow detect that calm before the storm.

It’s almost as if I can see that last shred of happiness I have being ripped apart.

“Winter,” Jake’s voice comes from the other end of the line, and although some sort of relief flows through my veins, there’s no denying I can almost hear the cynicism in his voice. I can feel the hollowness in his voice, almost as if…as if the brother I knew is long gone.

“Jake. I’m in the driveway, I’m coming in to—”

“You fucked him, didn’t you Win?”

There’s a predatory calmness in his voice, the one that makes a shiver travel down my spine harder than his words can hit.

“Jake, I don’t—I don’t understand.”

“You said you were confronting him. You said you believed me, Winter. But you stayed at his place. You fucked him, and you believed his words instead of mine!”

His tone of voice makes my face pale. Deacon, who’s standing beside me, catches it and throws me a questioning gaze on what the hell is going on and who I’m talking to.

I smile faintly even though Jacob lashing at me out of nowhere brings tears to my eyes. I still smile.

This is Jacob Cavanaugh I'm talking to. The brother who taught me how to climb trees and how to be my unashamed self once upon a time.

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