Wild Hunger (The Phoenix Pack, #7)(65)



He should have killed Drake when he’d had the chance, Trick thought. Should have bludgeoned him with the steel bar. No, too quick. He should have held his head in the toilet until his lungs filled with fluid and the life left his body. “Your moving here is going to happen at some point, Frankie. There’s no reason why it can’t be sooner rather than later.” He made an effort to soften his voice as he asked, “Would it really be so bad?”

She sighed. “No. Look, I understand that it must be driving you crazy that you haven’t claimed me yet; I know I’m not giving you what you need.”

“You’re all I need.”

“But I’m not giving you the level of commitment that you rightfully want. And I know the urge to claim me has to be riding you hard, but—”

“I can wait to claim you. But while I do, I want you here, with me. Here, where you and your wolf are happy. Here, where the Newmans can’t turn up and give you shit. Here, where Drake can’t reach you.”

She jutted out her chin. “I’m not moving until the hellhorse is finished. I can’t. It’s not stable enough to be moved yet.”

Hating that he had to respect that, Trick inhaled deeply and took a moment to think. “You said it would take a couple of days to finish the sculpture. While you work on that, the pack will help me move whatever you want to take with you, including the sculptures that can already be moved. I’ll put them in your studio here.”

“But—”

“I know you’re still hoping that you can fix things with your uncle and grandparents,” he said, striving to sound sensitive. “I know you’re worried that if you move here, they’ll see it as you choosing a side. But they’re not stupid, Frankie. They’re well aware that you’ll come to live on pack territory for the simple reason that we’re mates. You can’t win with them, no matter what you do. I learned that for myself today.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What does that mean?”

He slid his hands from her face down to her shoulders. “I met with Brad earlier.”

“Brad as in my uncle?”

“He sent me an e-mail, asking to meet me alone.” Trick raised a hand when her eyes flared with anger. “I didn’t tell you because you would have insisted on coming, and then I wouldn’t have found out whatever it was that he wanted to say because he’d have minded his words in front of you.”

“And what did he want to say?” She clenched her hands when he hesitated. “Trick, tell me.” So he told her. And she gawked. “He offered you fifty thousand dollars to walk away from me?” Her wolf went stock-still.

“He said he was doing it at Marcia’s request, but he was lying. That was all him. She might have known about it—if she did, she’d probably even approved of it—but bribing me was his idea.” Trick rubbed at his jaw. The damn thing ached from how hard he’d ground his teeth. “He also did a background check on me. He found out about Jana—though he’d been told that she was truly my mate—and he threatened to tell you, thinking it would make me walk away so that you’d never have to know.”

Frankie should have been angry at the news. Instead the swell of emotions inside her just . . . deflated, leaving only the ache of betrayal. She wouldn’t have thought that Brad would ever do something so sly and devious—it seemed so out of character for him. But then, he’d lied to her all these years, hadn’t he? So maybe she shouldn’t be so surprised.

Trick tugged her closer. “I didn’t want to tell you about this, because I knew how much it would hurt you. But there shouldn’t be lies between mates. I won’t keep things from you.”

“You kept it from me until now. Yes, I know why. I also can’t disagree that you made a valid point: I would have insisted on going. He would never have said any of that shit in front of me.”

The pain in her eyes gutted Trick. He rested his forehead on hers. “I hate that they do this to you.”

Yeah, so did Frankie. She backed away, swallowing hard. “I’m going to sit out on the balcony for a while.” He moved so silently that she didn’t even realize he’d followed her until he took the patio chair beside hers.

At the impatient look she tossed at him, Trick raised his hands. “I won’t touch you, I won’t speak to you, but I also won’t leave you on your own. I’m here if you want to talk. If you don’t, that’s fine. But I don’t want you to be alone, so don’t ask me to move.”

She turned her gaze to the scenery. “Awkward fucker.”

“I’ve been called worse.” As he’d promised, Trick didn’t say a word as she simply sat there, facing the view, her gaze focused inward. That promise became harder to keep the longer she didn’t move. He didn’t know what was going on in her pretty little head, and he worried that it was something he wasn’t going to like.

Still, he kept his mouth shut and didn’t reach out to touch her as he so badly wanted to. No, not wanted. Needed. Not just to calm and reassure himself that she was physically fine, but because the drive to soothe pounded through him. He hated that she was hurting, hated that he couldn’t avenge that hurt.

His wolf wanted the freedom to hunt, mangle, and kill. Wanted to see and smell and taste Drake’s blood. Not even his mate’s presence was calming him or—

Suzanne Wright's Books