Page 133 of Double Standards
I lock up, checking every door and window before rushing upstairs two steps at a time.
The darkness cloaks my bedroom, the only light coming from the hallway behind me. A soft glow outlines Cassie curled up in my bed, the t-shirt swallowing her slender frame.
Her chest rises and falls in steady rhythm, golden strands floating with each breath. She looks like a sleeping angel resting against my pillows, the covers drawn up around her waist.
Seeing her peaceful like this is all I wanted tonight. If I could see this every night, I wouldn’t complain.
She stirs, sensing me. Her eyes flutter open, catching mineand then a small smile breaks through as she reaches for my hand silently.
I step forward, taking her hand gently. Her busted lip and bruised cheek ignite my fury, but I keep it hidden. She doesn’t need to see the dark side of me gearing up to make that man pay.
“Do you need anything?” I ask, fingers brushing softly down her cheek.
She smiles through broken tears. “Just you.”
“Iasked you one fucking favor, Hunter!” I snap, voice booming through the office like a war drum. My patience is gone, burned to ash the second he muttered the word“Traffic?”
I pace like a caged animal, dragging my fingers through my hair as rage coils in my gut.
“I’m sorry, Ax. No one’s beating themselves up more than I am.” Hunter’s voice is laced with remorse. He scrubs a hand through his hair, eyes heavy with guilt. I know he means it. I know what kind of hell he puts himself through daily. His father made sure of that. But I don’t give a fuck about childhood trauma right now.
“Why the hell did you let him get away?” I hiss, forcing calm into my voice for Cassie’s sake. She’s still asleep upstairs. She needs peace. She needs rest.
Hunter’s eyes snap up, offended. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“Ax,he wasn’t there!” Hunter takes a step back, hands raised as if I’m about to strike. “Daniels ran. It was just some guy withher?—”
“Some guy?”
“Yeah, I don’t know. A friend, maybe.” He grips the back of his neck like the pressure of my disappointment is a noose tightening by the second.
“Noah,” a quiet, sleep-roughened voice cuts through the tension.
We both turn to where Cassie stands in the hallway, arms crossed, gaze locked on mine. The mark on her throat is worse now, igniting my fury even more.
“It was Noah who scared Daniels away,” she says, her voice raspy and raw.
“Who the fuck is Noah?” I snap, jealousy flaring like a goddamn wildfire.
“A friend,” she answers, unaffected by the venom in my tone.
“Afriend?” I step toward her, my possessiveness showing in every inch of my posture. She doesn’t flinch.
“How long has Hunter been following me?” she asks, tilting her head. Her voice is sharper now. Measured. Dangerous.
Fuck.
She heard everything.
“Cassie, I?—”
“Hunter,” she cuts me off sharply, her voice cold and precise as a blade. Her eyes swing to him like a spotlight in an interrogation room. “How long have you been following me?”
The question lands like a slap across my face. Not because I didn’t expect it—but because I know what it means. She’s not just askinghim.She’s askingme.She’s already done the math. Already drawn her conclusions. She’s not looking for an explanation, she’s looking for blood.
Hunter shifts beside me, tense, uncertain. He flicks his gaze to mine, silently asking what to do. Whether to lie. Whether to run. I meet his stare and give him the smallest nod.
