Wrath (The Deadly Seven Book 3) by Lana Pecherczyk

Author:Lana Pecherczyk [Pecherczyk, Lana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Prism Press
Published: 2019-09-02T16:00:00+00:00

Twenty-Three

Twenty minutes after Wyatt handed his story to Misha, she hadn’t called out or come to him. Forty minutes later, still no word. An hour had gone by and, still, he’d not heard a peep.

Finally, he couldn’t stand it any longer and left his post. He returned to the office and found Misha asleep, his heart sank. And when he found his letter ripped to shreds in the wastebasket, a bitterness entered his mouth. That was it. That was all he had to give, and it wasn’t enough for her. She’d thrown it out.

Numb, he went back to stand near the entrance and watched the dark street outside for signs of life.

He wasn’t sure what he expected from Misha. He guessed, a part of him thought since he’d come to terms with her importance to him, she would too. But why should she? They’d only known each other for a few weeks and most of that time was spent apart. He had a biological urge to produce pheromones around her, not the other way around. It wasn’t like he gave her instant calm just by being there. No shit, she was a drug for him. When she touched him, the grimy sense of wrath ebbed away like an ocean.

He scrubbed his stubble, thinking. It was too much for her. He’d revealed too much, too soon, but after all the secrets in his past relationship, he didn’t want to start a new one with lies. You couldn’t dump a secret like his and expect a normal person to shrug it off. Not only had he confessed his true crime fighting-identity, but his deepest pain, and what she meant to him. Hell, he never did anything in halves. He was surprised she hadn’t run for the hills.

All out on the table now.

I’m such a dickhead.

Sara had taunted him before slicing his throat. She’d said she picked him out of the Seven because he was the dumbest, most gullible. Maybe she was right, but he was also stubborn and helpless to leave Misha now. Like it or not, she was carved into his life. Accepting that notion was liberating. He just had to convince her he was worth it.

Wyatt didn’t sleep. At first, he was concerned with maintaining watch, ensuring no one had followed them from the club. Staying at the studio had gone against his better judgement, but he found he was fast becoming powerless to say no to Misha. When the soft light of dawn unfurled through the windows, he moved from his spot near the studio entrance and found Misha awake and tidying the office.

“Morning,” she chirped as she tied a string around a green rubber mat.

Momentarily stunned, he did nothing but stand there and stare. He expected some resistance or awkwardness from her, but there was none. What the hell was going on?

While he waited for the other shoe to drop, he admired how pretty she was after waking. This was the second time he’d seen her in the morning, and her vibrancy was no less diminished.

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