Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Sam nodded. “I’m sorry, man. I really thought you knew.”
“It’s okay.” Mike appreciated that his brother cared, and he knew that Sam had finally accepted Mike’s relationship with Cara.
“She was fine. She gave her statement, made sure Daniella was taken care of, and went home.”
Alone, Mike thought. She’d gone through her own form of emotional hell, one that probably brought back all sorts of painful memories and fear for her mother, and she still hadn’t called him at any time afterward. Damn stubborn, independent woman, he thought, rising from his seat.
“Mike? What’s wrong?” his mother asked.
Simon put a hand over Ella’s to calm her. “It’s fine. Let him go. He has a lady to talk to.”
Leave it to his father to understand. Mike smiled at the old man. “Thanks for dinner. It was delicious.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll do all the cleanup,” Erin said, dismissing him with a wave of her hand and a grin that let him know he owed her.
“Hey, take it easy on her,” his brother warned him about Cara.
He supposed some things would never change, and he stopped short of telling Sam that how Mike treated his woman was none of his damn business. That would only cause more trouble than he had the time or patience to deal with.
The only person he wanted to shake sense into was Cara.
Chapter Thirteen
Cara had a massive headache. By the time she’d gotten home last night, she’d fallen into bed exhausted but had trouble sleeping. Normally the adrenaline of a situation at work would lead to a crash and a good night’s sleep, but this wasn’t work. Everything about Daniella felt personal to her.
She had flashbacks of Daniella cringing when Bob yelled, slinking down in her seat as if trying to become invisible, taking the slap as if it were normal. It all reminded Cara of her mother’s body language and behavior, hence the nearly debilitating headache.
She took a couple of painkillers and was about to lie back down on the couch, a place she’d been most of the day, when her doorbell rang.
She padded across the room in her bare feet and peeked out. Catching a glimpse of Mike, her heart fluttered faster.
She swung the door open wide. “Hi!” she said, surprised but not unhappy to see him.
He stood in his leather jacket with a serious expression on his handsome face. “Hi.” He stepped inside and immediately turned to face her, stepping into her personal space.
His brow furrowed tight, and she curled her fingers to prevent herself from smoothing out the wrinkles. She needed to know what was going on in that head of his first.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I thought we had a relationship.” He pinned her with his dark, steady gaze, and her pulse rate tripled.
He was angry, and she had no idea why. “Umm, we do?”
“Not sure?” he clipped out.
“Of course I am! What I’m not sure about is your mood and what’s causing it.”
“I’m getting there. So we’re in a relationship.”
She nodded, suddenly too warm in her own skin.
“Yet you not only heard from Daniella, you went to meet her, ended up pulling a gun on her boyfriend, and I had to hear about it from my brother and sister?” he asked, his voice rising.
Despite his anger, she wasn’t the least bit put off. She knew no matter how upset he became, he’d never hurt her. She was more intrigued by this sudden wave of emotion he was turning her way.
“You weren’t on duty last night or today, so you heard it from them?” she asked, trying to understand.
“At dinner with my parents, yeah. So why didn’t you tell me when I called this morning?”
“Because you woke me, and I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly!”
“I can understand that, but after you woke up? All day when you weren’t feeling well, when you were upset, it never dawned on you to give me a call? Let me comfort you?”
“Wait. You’re hurt that I didn’t tell you I’d finally heard from Daniella?” This seemed so out of character for him, she didn’t know what to say.
He looked at her, stupefied. “Hello? Of course I’m hurt! If I heard from my father and didn’t call you, wouldn’t you be?” he asked, the storm passing from his eyes, replaced by a calming, more wounded look that touched her deeply.
She swallowed hard. “I thought about calling you. On the way there.”
He narrowed his gaze. “Then why didn’t you?”
Oh, this was going to be hard. Honesty always was, but he deserved the truth. “Want to sit?” she asked.
He tipped his head to the side, his cocky stance answering for him.
“Guess not. I wanted to call, and that’s why I didn’t.”
“Which makes no sense.”
“Maybe not to you. But when we started this”—she gestured back and forth between them—“I said you were going to break my heart, remember?”