Page 68 of Defiant Beta

His eyes bounce from me to the security guard trailing me, and he raises his eyebrow.

I subtly shake my head.

I have no clue what the fuck is going on, but for now, it looks like Xavier is on his own.

Chapter 22

Della

“Areyou sure you don’t want to stay with me?” Everleigh asks, perching on the edge of my bed.

Next to my dresser is a bag of clothes and ointment that I desperately needed after waking up this morning with my back in agony. I have jeans, sweatpants, pajamas, T-shirts, and underwear.

I hadn’t wanted to see anyone, not even Everleigh, but at least her arrival prompted me to crawl out of bed and into the shower to wash away the memories of the last few days. The only thing the blisteringly hot shower has done is remove the grime from my skin. All the memories are still there.

“Your mansion is big, but I’d rather not hear you guys going at it like rabbits twenty-four seven.”

She blushes. “We don’t go at it like rabbits.”

I arch an eyebrow.

She looks away. “Maybe sometimes.”

Snorting, I lift my sheets. “I’m okay staying here. Well, not okay, but it’s just for a little while.”

“It’s probably safer. No one would find you here.”

I eye her curiously.

She continues, “I heard about what happened at the hospital. Have you spoken to her since… well, you know?”

My mind feels splintered, and it didn’t even cross my mind to tell my sister where I was until Professor Vincent told me Everleigh was on her way to see me. He must have told her.

“Since she sold you to Lawrence-Fucking-Wentworth?” I ask.

One corner of her mouth turns up in a half-smile. “You don’t have to include the fucking every time you say his name, you know?”

“It has a certain ring to it.” When she gets that slightly concerned look on her face as her eyes dip to a bruise on my jaw, I start talking. Talking about Lawrence Wentworth is fine. Talking about anything and everything else is fine.

Just not about that.

“You didn’t have to bring me a fruit basket.” I eye the massive basket overflowing with fruit. “Especially one that big. It’s excessive.”

“It’s to make you feel better. And it’s not that big.”

“That thing would feed a small country.”

She tilts her head as she studies the basket, chewing on her lip as I fight to control a sudden shiver that has nothing to do with the temperature of my room.

“Maybe it’s a little big,” she concedes. “The company did three sizes, and Cian went for the middle one. Kylian called them back and ordered the large one instead.”

“I’ll share it with the alphas.” Give it away more like. I’m not hungry.

“It’s okay if you want to speak to her,” Everleigh says softly.

“Speak to who?” I ask when I know exactly who she means.

“Mom. I won’t think?—”

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