I have any illusion I’m the white knight. I’m the one who does the dirty work. The one who will always put our family first. If it takes me hurting someone else to do it,” Ares shrugs, both his jaw and eyes hard, “then so be it.”
I take a step back. “At what cost, Ares? We could have sat here all afternoon and gotten that information. She doesn’t have magic powers that make her better with a computer—not that I’m aware of, anyway,” I scoff.
“Laura,” I look down at Dante, his eyes are still a little droopy. “He knows where to draw the line, Ares would never do anything to risk you, and what you mean to us.” How could he know what I’m thinking? I thought I had every confidence in Ares after we bonded, but apparently that’s not true because hearing him talk to Mia like that brought back a wave of insecurities.
“Says the guy who kissed another girl a few days ago,” I snap. I’m being defensive, and I know it. Dante lowers his head, my razor tongue succeeded in shaming him into silence.
I spin on my heels, heading over to the windows across the room, feeling horrible for lashing out at Dante, but too embarrassed to apologize like I should.
Peering through the gauzy curtains, I see the busy street below. People are coming and going from several hotels and loading into waiting cars parked on the street. Some have wide smiles as they chat with friends. How many of them are actually happy, not just plastering on a smile because that’s what’s expected?
I’ve been pretending myself, pretending that not knowing what happened to my mom isn’t killing me a little bit every day. Pretending I don’t feel guilty when she isn’t my first and last thought.
The guys have been taking up a lot of my time and energy, which is both good and bad. Good, because I can’t dwell on the fact that my mom is missing, and bad, because I feel guilty for going on with my life. Cradling my forehead in my hands, I take a deep breath. I should be relieved, feeling a push of excitement, determination—anything—with this new information. Instead, I’m too worried to get my hopes up, because I think it’s going to be another let down. Frankly, I’m scared it may lead to answers I’m not ready for.
Ares and Dante give me space, and neither of them tries to fill my head with false hope or promises that everything will be okay, for which I’m grateful. The quiet grows oppressive within minutes. I want to apologize to both Ares and Dante, but I don’t really know the protocol. Mom and I never really argued, and I’ve had little experience with friends. I glance over my shoulder and see Dante sprawled out on the couch, his large frame taking up the entire sofa. Ares isn’t in sight, but the door to the bedroom area is open, so I’m assuming he’s in there.
Making up my mind, I walk over to Dante and take a seat near his hip on the edge of the couch. His eyes open slowly, and he gives me a half smile. That’s all the permission I need to tell him, “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”
He doesn’t tell me it’s okay, instead he says, “It happens.”
“Are you feeling okay?” I run my hand through his hair and Dante sighs.
“Very okay.” He snuggles back into the sofa, his arms reaching out to pull me onto his chest. I lay there with him for several minutes—half on the couch and half off—until his breathing has evened out, and his body has gone slack with sleep.
That was the easy one. Dante was probably a lot more forgiving considering we just bonded. Ares, on the other hand, is going to require a lot more finesse. I’m still mad at him and think he should be the one to apologize, but I can be the bigger person and admit I was wrong, too.
I tap on the open door lightly, not wanting to wake up Dante. I know Ares won’t be sleeping. He never sleeps during the day. “You don’t need to knock,” he rumbles.
Rounding the door, I close it so it’s just barely cracked. I spy Ares leaning against the headboard, his knee kicked out to the side as he looks at the laptop on the bed in front of him. He glances up at me, his eyes scanning my face.
“Sorry,” we both