Page 150 of Stand: Part One
Shuddering, I hugged Camaro closer, and a single stupid tear found its way down my cheek.
“You didn’t finish your breakfast,” Darren said sternly from behind me.
Quickly swiping the tear away, I turned to find him towering over me, his hands in his pockets and a look of disappointment on his face. His eyes darkened as he caught my tear.
“You better not be crying over them,” he warned, his gaze narrowing.
I scowled up at him. “Don’t you dare scold me for it!” I growled, boldly pointing my finger at him. “They may not have been my favorite people, but they didn’t deserve to go down like that. I don’t care what you say!”
Darren sighed, his jaw tightening as he folded his arms across his chest.
“You should have known better than to form attachments with the men whose job it is to literally die for you. They failed you last night. And there are consequences to failure.”
I scoffed at his dismissal. “Except they did die for me, Darren. I’m alive, and they’re both dead because of it. A job well done, don’t you think?”
He shook his head. “No. The other part of their job is to keep you safe,” he retorted. “That was their biggest failure.”
“They did their best,” I argued, annoyance lacing my voice.
“And it wasn’t good enough, not to my standards,” he snapped. “Even if they had survived last night, they would not have survived me, and you know it.”
I whipped my head around to glare up at him. “Yeah? And just where the fuck were you the whole time, huh? After you so viciously flaunted that joke of a charity gala in my face like some kind of asshole, where did you run off to, huh? To go kill some poor girl who was lucky enough to escape your trade? Maybe if you had been here instead of pursuing her, we would have had a better chance at fighting?—”
“You had better watch your mouth, princess,” he warned, his voice silencing mine with his terrifying lethal tone. “Loose ends cannot be ignored. I expect you to understand this by now.”
I turned away, unwilling to entertain his bullshit. “I do understand. And I hate you for it.” The memory of the helpless panic I’d felt knowing what he was going to do, and that there was nothing I could do about it was another ghost that haunted me. She would haunt me, and the guilt would eat at me forever.
Darren tilted his head back and sighed in frustration, but we both knew my hatred was of no consequence to him. He usually found it amusing.
“I made it quick, Jaden,” he said gently.
I scoffed harshly. The minor detail acknowledging his act was of no help at all.
“If that’s the case, then why did it take you so long to return, huh? You were in the same damn building for fuck’s sake. Where the hell were you?”
Hey dumbass, this isn’t getting you any closer to the country estate.
I could feel the heat emanating off his body as I stupidly pressed him for answers I had no business requesting. But I was angry for what he had done to that girl, and I wanted him to feel some form of regret for choosing to make her murder his priority instead of me.
And then suddenly, that hamster in my head started to sprint in that little metal wheel of hers.
If I could inspire just enough guilt, then maybe I could hustle some very important time-sensitive restitution…
“I’m not going to warn you again, little girl. You damn well know better than to ask me that,” he practically snarled, his eyes flashing with the promise of violence.
Little girl.
Darren always liked to remind me of how small I was compared to him when I pushed him too far. And the subtle advisement to shut my mouth before he did it for me usually did the trick. But right now, I refused to let him off the hook that easily and turned up the hysterics.
“You chose her over me!” I shrieked. “And I almost died because of it! I deserve a fucking explanat?—”
I didn’t finish my sentence before I was suddenly yanked up from the floor and into Darren’s arms, my legs swinging up as he moved to one of the sun chairs.
Lying back against it, he settled me over his lap to straddle his hips, pulling my front against his chest so my cheek was resting against his shoulder.
I fully expected him to berate me, but only a sigh left his lungs, the sound heavy with grief and audible reluctance as he gently ran his palm up and down my back.
“You’re right,” he finally admitted, shocking me completely. “I should have been there, and I wasn’t.” I felt myself stiffen at his admission, taken completely off guard. Was he actually admitting to fault? “However, the empire I’ve built cannot guarantee your safety if I don’t defend it against even the slightest of threats that could jeopardize it. That is the nature of this life, and try as I might, I cannot always be around to protect you. Which is why I’ve taken such extreme measures to ensure your safety, and so far, only one of them has proven to maintain a 100 percent success rate.”
