The King (Black Dagger Brotherhood #12) - J.R. Ward Page 0,99

pillows, and for a moment, she had no idea where she was. The stone walls and the rich velvet bedding were not—

Darius’s house. The chamber that was not her father’s, but the one Wrath had used when he’d needed someplace to crash. The one she’d moved over to when she couldn’t sleep.

She must have finally passed out on top of the duvet—

Distantly, a phone started ringing.

Shoving her hair out of her face, she found a blanket over her legs that she didn’t remember putting there … her suitcase just inside the door … and a silver tray set on the bedside table.

Fritz. The butler must have come sometime during the day.

Rubbing her sternum, she looked at the empty pillow next to her, the undisturbed sheets, the lack of Wrath—and felt worse than she had the night before.

To think she’d assumed they’d hit bottom. Or that space would help—

“Crap, Wrath?” she called out as she jumped off the bed.

Running to the door, she ripped it open, shot across the shallow hall, and careened into her father’s chamber, diving for the phone on one of the side tables.

“Hello! Hello? Hello …?”

“Hi.”

At the sound of that deep voice, she collapsed on the bed, squeezing the phone in her fist, pushing it into her ear as if she could bring her man to her.

“Hi.” Closing her eyes, she didn’t bother fighting the tears. She let them fall. “Hi.”

His voice was as rough as hers was. “Hi.”

There was a long silence, and that was okay: Even though he was at home and she was here, it was as if they were holding each other.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m really sorry.”

She let out a sob. “Thank you…”

“I’m sorry.” He laughed a little. “I’m not real articulate, am I?”

“It’s okay. I’m not feeling very with it, either … I was just dreaming of you, I think.”

“A nightmare?”

“No. Missing you.”

“I don’t deserve it. I was afraid to call your cell in case you didn’t answer it. I thought maybe if someone was with you, they might pick up and … yeah, I’m sorry.”

Beth exhaled and leaned back against the pillows. Crossing her legs at the ankles, she looked around at the pictures of her. “I’m in his bedroom.”

“You are?”

“There isn’t a phone in the one you used.”

“God, it’s been a long time since I’ve been to that house.”

“I know, right? It brings up a lot.”

“I’ll bet.”

“How’s George?”

“Missing you.” There was a muffled thump—the sound of him patting the dog’s flank. “He’s right here with me.”

The good news was that the neutral subjects were the perfect way to dip their toes in the relating pool. But the larger discussion still loomed.

“So John’s head’s okay,” she said, picking at the bottom of her shirt. “But I guess you’ve already heard everything went all right at the medical center.”

“Oh, yeah, no. Actually, I’ve been … kind of out of it.”

“I called.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. Tohr said you were sleeping. Did you finally get some rest?”

“Ah … yeah.”

As he fell quiet, the second silence was the preparation kind, the countdown to the real stuff. And yet she wasn’t sure how to bring it all up, what to say, how to—

“I don’t know if I’ve ever told you much about my parents,” Wrath said. “Other than how they were…”

Killed, she finished for him in her mind.

“They were a match made in heaven, to use a human term. I mean, even though I was young, I remember them together, and the truth is, I figured, when they died, that kind of thing was over with them. Like they were a once-in-a-millennium kind of love or something. But then I met you.”

Beth’s tears were hot as they continued to laze their way down her cheeks, some dropping off softly onto the pillow, others finding her ear. Reaching out, she snagged a Kleenex and mopped up without making a sound.

But he knew she was crying. He had to know.

Wrath’s voice became thin, like he was having trouble keeping it together. “When I got shot that night a couple of months ago, and Tohr and I were hauling ass back from Assail’s house, I wasn’t afraid I was dying or anything. Sure, I knew the wound was bad, but I’ve been in a lot of bad shit before—and I was going to get through it … because no one and nothing was going to take me away from you.”

Bracing the phone on her shoulder, she folded the wet tissue in precise little squares. “Oh, Wrath…”

“When it comes to you