Page 131 of Burn Bag
“I do,” I chuckled. “Never thought I would say that.”
She sighed, shifting in her seat. “It’s really my parents’ money. They put it in a trust for me when I turned twenty-one, but I don’t use it.”
“Why not?”
“Because they set it aside, hoping I would follow in their footsteps.”
“Which is what?”
“They’re archaeologists. Which isn’t exactly a lucrative career. But my dad came from money, and they invested a lot and all the things that you should do with money. And since they don’t really care about money, they live off what they earn and they left the rest to me.”
“That brings up another point. You said you went to school for archaeology. Why aren’t you out there digging up dinosaurs or something?”
“Well, I wanted to, but I got distracted.”
“By what?”
“Life? Animals. See, I have two passions. If you haven’t noticed, I seem to be somewhat of an animal activist.”
I winced, thinking about how I made her drop the snake off at the zoo. Many people thought zoos were inhumane.
“My latest rescue is what brought me out here.”
That drew my attention. “Your latest rescue? Why did you?—”
“The kittens.” She sighed heavily, turning to face me. “Please don’t be mad at me.”
Fuck, I always hated it when people said shit like that. “Well, I sort of…rescued the kittens from a man who was going to take them on an expedition.”
“An expedition,” I repeated.
“Yes. He…he’s this nut job I met through my archaeological circles. He’s one of those weirdos who believes that cats are protectors of the underworld.”
My skin chilled at her words, remembering a time I spent with a cat to protect myself from a very Egyptian curse. God, I didn’t even want to ask.
“And why would he need all those cats for protection?”
She shrugged. “Anyway, I couldn’t let those kittens be subjected to a life of forever protecting some creepy man. So, I stole them. Let’s just say he was not happy with me. I barely escaped and?—”
“And what?” I asked, feeling the anger rise inside me.
“And that’s why I came out here to marry you. I needed to get away from the crazy man before he came after me for theft. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know who I am, but?—”
I yanked the truck to the side of the road and shifted into park as Daphne barely hung on. When I turned to her, I felt all my protective instincts flaring to life at the idea that my wife had run for her life over cats.
“You really shouldn’t frown like that. Didn’t your mother ever tell you your face would freeze like that?”
I wasn’t at all impressed with her joke. “You ran away from a man who might harm you, and you didn’t think it was important to tellyour husband—who happens to be skilled in protection and knocking the crap out of people— that you could be in danger?”
She frowned like she hadn’t been expecting me to be angry over this. Over the fact that my wife could potentially be in danger. When the fuck was she going to learn that I was her husband and I wanted to take care of her?
“Well—”
“Daphne, I am your husband. These are things you’re supposed to tell me. How the fuck am I supposed to protect you if you don’t let me know there could be danger?”
“I didn’t think I was actually in danger,” she countered. “I mean, really, it’s not like he’s going to follow me across state lines to steal his kittens back. He’ll just get new kittens!”
“That’s beside the fucking point!” I snapped. “I’m your husband. You’re supposed to fucking talk to me!”
