Chapter 19
Piper
Allister didn’t showup in January for his appointment. There was no call. No explanation. Just nothing.
It made me feel helpless. Useless.
“Damn it.” I hung up the phone again after the millionth call to Antoine, to Rayne, to Wynn, all the way down the line to fucking Marcus. None of them answered the phone.
“Calm down.” Darren smoothed his hand over the back of my neck, massaging the tense muscles there. “This doesn’t mean anything. Maybe they’re not in a place with cell service? Or maybe they’re hiding?”
“You don’t know that.” I stood from the couch and pushed his hands away. My heart raced in my chest, and my eyes burned with tears. “You can say all the theories you want, but you don’t actually know. Neither of us does.” I jerked the hand holding my phone to the side. “The link that connects us to Antoine doesn’t work two ways. He can feel what we are feeling but not the other way around. He knows I’m upset.” I hit my chest hard enough to sting. “Here. If he loved me. If any of them loved me and knew what I was feeling right now, wouldn’t they come running? Shouldn’t they?” The tears streamed down my face, wracking sobs made it hard to talk, hard to breathe.
I barely registered the fact that Darren had moved until his arms wrapped around me, rocking me gently in his embrace. He made shushing sounds as if I were a baby who needed comforting.
Burying my face in his chest, my phone made a thud as it hit the ground. My fingers twisted themselves into his shirt, holding him tightly against me. Darren stroked my hair in slow, soft motions, over and over, murmuring against the top of my head words I didn’t understand.
Finally, when I could breathe again, I lifted my head to meet his gaze. “Is that Italian?”
Darren’s lip quirked up at the side. “You have a good ear. Many don’t recognize it. Or think it’s French.”
I giggled and sniffed. “I had an Italian boyfriend once. His grandmother used to yell at him in their language over family dinners. I didn’t know you were Italian.” I stared up into those deep dark brown eyes, noticing features about him I hadn’t before. “I guess I don’t know a whole lot about you.”
Darren gave a noncommittal shrug. “There isn’t a lot to know. My life is not, was not, that impressive.”
“And yet, you somehow ended up here with me.” I fiddled with his shirt, not meeting his eyes. “Did you ever expect that to happen?”
Shaking his head, Darren leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Nothing with you is ever expected. I’ve come to love that about you.”
“You have?” I peeked up at him, feeling my face heat. “You don’t think I’m just a big pain in the ass you wish you’d have thrown out the day we met?”
Darren threw his head back and laughed. “I used to think that, yes.”
“But not anymore.” I murmured, shuffling my feet closer to him, my eyes drawn to the curve of his lips.
“No,” Darren answered, his voice just as low as mine. “Not anymore.”
Licking my lips, I flicked my eyes up to his briefly. “What do you think of me now?”
Darren’s hands drifted down to my waist, pressing our bodies against one another. “Now, I think you’re still a pain in the ass.”
I scoffed and smacked him on the chest, pulling back from him. Darren held me closer, a hand coming up to cup the side of my face. My breath caught.
“But I also think you’re the most courageous, smart-mouthed,” he grinned slightly, “beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”
I blushed, ducking my eyes down. “Darren. You’re just trying to make me feel better.”
His thumb traced the line of my lower lip, tempting me to lick it again. “I keep telling myself you’re not mine. I can’t have you. You belong to the Durands.” He took a deep breath, and I thought he was going to step away from me, but he didn’t. Instead, he muttered, “Fuck the Durands,” as his mouth descended on mine.
Darren’s mouth devoured mine as if he wanted to climb inside of me. His teeth nipped at my lips, his tongue lashed against mine, each movement drove my desire for him higher and higher.
My hands pulled at the t-shirt he’d tucked into his jeans. I escaped his kiss long enough to command, “Off.”
Grabbing the bottom of his shirt, Darren whipped it over his head, tossing it where it may.
I grinned, running my hands up his chest. “You’re just going to leave that there?”
The warm press of Darren’s hand slid beneath my shirt, playing along the edge of my pants. “I’ll get it later.”