“Nothing has changed around here, nothing,” she snapped. “The three of you live in your little dream world, feeling superior to everything around you, when in fact you’re all a mess. You think you loved Diego? You don’t know what real love is, Ana. It’s been staring you in the face as long as I’ve been around and you’re too much of a coward to grab hold of it.”
Libby turned her back on the vampire. “You all make me sick.”
She nodded toward the door. “Tell Jaxon the next time he wants to ask me something, he should grow a set of balls and do it himself. We’re done.”
She waited, tense and on edge until she heard Ana leave. When the door slammed shut, Libby shook her head, suddenly feeling deflated. She’d been awful, absolutely awful. She’d never been close to Ana, and while she knew that Diego’s eyes had wandered several times, it had been cruel to throw that in her face.
Libby fell onto the bed and groaned as she caught Jaxon’s scent on the bedsheets. The soft cotton weave held fast to his essence, and she hit the pillow, frustrated and weary. She needed to sleep, and clenched her mouth tightly before uttering a curse that would make a sailor proud. She grabbed a throw blanket that had been tossed onto the end of the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders.
But a few moments later she hopped off the bed, crossed over to the window and threw her body down into the corner, against the wall. She pulled her knees up, rested her chin against them and looked up into the sky.
Eventually her mind slowed and weariness infiltrated her muscles, emanating through her body. She didn’t fight it. She knew she’d need all the strength she could muster, for the next few days would test her like none in recent memory.
And that was saying a lot.
Her eyes closed and she felt the tug of slumber calling her. She snuggled deep into the blanket and relaxed, falling under the sandman’s spell less than a minute later.
How long she slept, she couldn’t say. The rumble of a large diesel engine woke her from the dead, and the faint scent of its putrid exhaust filtered in through the open window above her head.
Instantly, her senses roared to life and she listened intently, while her eyes took in the shadowed light of dawn.
Two voices crept through the early gloom, and she recognized the deep, husky tones of Jagger Castille as he conversed with someone else. She snorted softly. So, Jaxon had called in the troops. Since Jagger had left with Cracker the other night, she assumed the second male voice was Cracker’s.
A soft smile fell across her lips at the thought of the older man, and a genuine feeling of anticipation hit her in the chest. He was a real sweetie underneath the muscular bravado he projected to the world. Cracker was someone who’d seen a lot during his tours of duty, and as far as she could tell, had no family to speak of.
Their particular unit had been his family, and he was loyal to a fault. Obviously, he’d not been pulled under the black cloud of hatred the rest had felt for her, and she was grateful for that.
She stretched out her protesting limbs, the muscles tight and stiff. Once she was on her feet, the ache in her side flared, but she pushed it aside. There was much to be done today.
Hope flared deep in her chest, and she felt light-headed with the enormity of it all. To think that she was on the path to finding her son was incredible. But to know that his father would be there, alongside her, was something she couldn’t wrap her brain around.
He didn’t even know about Logan.
But he suspected.
The look on his face when he’d seen the long incision low on her belly had spoken volumes.
Two days ago she hadn’t understood what the look of loathing and disdain meant. But as the shattered fragments of her mind had slowly fused together, it hadn’t taken long for her to figure it out.
That he hadn’t asked her outright could be taken two ways: that he didn’t give a shit either way, or that he was afraid of what her answer would be.
Libby shrugged and opened the door. She just wouldn’t think about it.
Voices drifted down the hall toward her. Everyone was up and ready to go. She looked down at the clothes she wore and grimaced. She needed a change of wardrobe. The overlarge T-shirt wasn’t going to cut it.
Determination walked beside her as she entered the great room, hair tousled, sleep vanishing from her eyes and attitude dripping from her pores.
All conversation stopped, and once more she felt like a bug underneath a microscope. Slowly, she scanned the room.
Jaxon and Declan were off to the side, bent over a low-lying table. They were studying what appeared to be a large map, and both men turned toward her as she walked farther in. She took in Declan’s wary countenance, and felt the heat of Jaxon’s gaze but refused to meet his eyes. She could feel his scowl, and felt a tug of pleasure ripple through her.
Good. Let him stew.
Ana turned away from her and retreated to the kitchen, busying herself with a spot of granite that was apparently dirty, shooting looks of venom her way from half-lowered eyes. A slice of remorse shot through her, but Libby ignored it. She had no time to worry about the vampire.
Cracker and Jagger, however, greeted her with huge smiles, and she was overwhelmed with emotion as the older gentleman swung her into a hug, carefully avoiding the tender area of her ribs.
His voice was rough, and she felt the tickle of his whiskers as he whispered into her ear. “I knew you’d come back to us. I’m sorry to hear about what you went through, but rest assured we will make things right.” He squeezed her shoulders gently before releasing her. “Everything will be all right.”