Stray Page 54

Pure, jealous rage. I crawled to the edge of the bed, but he put up a hand to stop me. “Stay there.”

I stayed, because though I’d never seen him that angry, I’d heard stories of what he’d done on my father’s behalf to trespassing strays and wildcats. From his perspective, Jace was a trespasser. Jace had crossed into territory Marc stil claimed for himself, triggering every violent instinct he possessed. And I didn’t want to make it any worse.

Marc thumped to his knees on the floor, curling his fingers in a handful of Jace’s soft brown waves. He tugged back until those beautiful blue eyes stared up at him, only half-focused. “What did I say I would do if I caught you alone with her again?”

“Marc, Daddy sent him.” I stuffed my hands in my pockets so he wouldn’t see them shaking.

“To watch you, not to molest you.” He never took his eyes from Jace’s semiconscious face.

“He wasn’t—” I stopped, and Marc’s head swiveled slowly in my direction, his eyes dark and dangerous. There was no good way to finish that sentence, so I took a deep breath and started over. “I’m a big girl, Marc. I can take care of myself.”

“You wanted him to…touch you?”

Had I? I’d known I was making a mistake even as I made it. And that was my choice, wasn’t it? “I… It’s none of your business what I wanted,” I snapped, anger flowing in to replace my rapidly fading confusion. “The point is that I can handle it myself. I don’t need you to come bursting in here, throwing people into wal s. I don’t want you in here, Marc.” I propped my hands on my hips in irritation, and the motion drew his eyes down to my waist, where, I now realized, my shorts were stil unbuttoned.

My face flushed, and my fingers fumbled with the button, trying to shove it through the stupid hole. I final y got it, but it was too late. He’d already made his own interpretation, and giving him my version wouldn’t be much better.

Pain surfaced through the haze of anger in Marc’s eyes as they rose to meet mine, and I saw him quash it. I actual y saw him turn off his pain, like a plumber twisting off the hot-water valve. He shifted his gaze back to Jace without acknowledging a word I’d said.

“Are you awake? Do you understand what I’m saying?” he asked. Jace nodded slowly, flinching in pain. “What matters to you is what I say, not what she says, and certainly not what she does. No matter what you think you feel for her, it isn’t mutual. She’s just using you to make her father mad, and to make me jealous. And she’s doing a damn fine job.”

My blood boiled, and my temper beat against the battered gates of my self-control, demanding to be let out. But I knew better. Trying to rationalize with Marc before he calmed down would be dangerous, for al involved.

On the floor, Marc released Jace’s hair in favor of a tight grip on his chin, as if he were scolding a disobedient toddler. “I told you to leave the door open. I told you not to touch her. And I meant it. If you lay a hand on her again, you’l have more to worry about than her ripping out your heart. I’l save her the trouble and do it myself.”

My mouth went dry, and my jaws ached from holding back angry words. I’d had enough. Damn his uncontrollable temper. I couldn’t let him get away with threatening Jace’s life. Especially since he meant it. Like my father, Marc never made idle threats. He’d learned from the master. Or, in this case, the Alpha.

I gripped the nearest bedpost, using it to steady myself as I stepped onto the floor. My right foot landed on the shirt Marc had left there earlier. Annoyed, I kicked it out of my way, hugging the post for balance. I suffered from nothing more than shock and deeply rooted anger, but that was enough to make me unsteady on my feet. Unfortunately even the most convincing discourse imaginable would be forgotten in an instant if I fel flat on my face.

I’d just taken a breath to start shouting when the door opened. Marc whirled around, prepared to shove Ethan more convincingly that time. He came face-to-face with my father instead.

My jaw snapped shut, my furious words forgotten with one look at the anger on my father’s face. Thank goodness I already buttoned my shorts, I thought.

“What’s the problem, Marc?” Daddy demanded, his tone outwardly civil but cold as Arctic snow. “And let me remind you that we have guests.” As if to underline his point, the doorbel rang again.

“There’s no problem. We’ve reached an understanding. Right, Jace?”

Jace nodded, and Marc pulled him to his feet, brushing dry flakes of plaster from his shoulders.

Daddy eyed the new Jace-size dent in my wall, then glanced at where I stood at the end of the bed. “Everything okay?” he asked. I looked at Jace, and he nodded at me, so I nodded at my father. “Good. Ethan, take him to the guesthouse.”

Ethan stepped out from behind my father and helped his best friend into the hal . Jace didn’t look at me on the way out, but Ethan shot me an angry look, as if it had al been my fault.

That’s right, everything’s always Faythe’s fault.

Daddy eyed me harshly, one fist stil clenched around the doorknob. “Parker’s on his way to the airport again, and since Ethan’s tending Jace, that only leaves Marc to finish the shift as chaperone.”

Great, he blamed me too. And apparently he’d decided to torture me as punishment for my part in the disturbance.

“No,” I said, burying my nails in a bulbous section of the bedpost. “I’d rather spend the rest of the day in the cage.”

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