Rule Breaker (Breeds 20)

ied,” he told her as she blinked back at him. “He was actually on the phone with me that night as I ordered forces to his location. As Jonas told you, the Breeds were unaware of his location. Until he learned you were in danger. He called me just before you left the house and told me how he intended to get you to Lobo Reever’s ranch by speaking so cruelly to you. I advised him to take you and run instead, but he was far too certain he would be unable to protect you long enough for my forces to reach you.”

One shock after another, Gypsy thought. Would she be able to bear many more surprises?

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked him, unaware that the words were even a thought. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

Breathing in deeply, he lowered his head for long moments, the tension she’d never seen around this man shimmering in the air for but a moment before he once again became the lazy slouch he pretended to be.

“Would it have made a difference?” His gaze lifted to hers quickly, no doubt catching her answer before she was aware of it herself.

“He was my brother . . .”

“He told me once he was the father he’d always imagined he would be,” he broke in, his tone soft, gentle as a reminiscent smile tugged at his lips. “He told me of the young girl he’d taken as a babe, bathed and powdered her, comforted and held her when he was but a child himself. Ten, I believe.”

She nodded. “He was ten when I was born.”

“And he took one look at the tiny scrap you were and cherished you from that first look,” he told her. “We talked many times. I may not have known where he was, or who he was exactly, but I knew many things about him.”

“Did you know who had betrayed him?”

Had this man allowed Jason to live after Mark had died?

A flame lit in his eyes then, only to disappear a second later. But she saw it, the rage that flared for that briefest moment.

“Had I known who betrayed Mark McQuade, I promise you that I, Dog, and Cullen Maverick would have torn him apart, piece by bloody piece.” The South African accent deepened, thickened with the fury he didn’t bother to hide now. “There would have been no hole, no crevice he could have hidden within, Gypsy. I swear this to you.”

She nodded.

“Tell me who it was.”

She almost answered. At the last second, the words locked in her throat as determination tightened inside her, overwhelming her.

“He’s mine,” she swore flatly. “He owes me far more than he owes you.”

Dane’s eyes narrowed on her, the green flickering eerily as she stared back at him, her fingers curling at her sides as she fought to rein in the pulsing fury, the lancing pain . . .

Suddenly, the sweeping emotions threatening her control calmed, eased, and she felt Rule.

God, she felt him. Right there in her heart, wrapping himself around her, somehow aware of the struggle playing out within her soul.

Dane’s lips twitched as though aware of what was occurring. Could he know, she wondered? “He won’t let you go alone. You know that, don’t you, Gypsy? Vengeance will be diluted by a mate who will refuse to allow you to kill. One who will push you back and shed that blood himself.”

“How do you think this will convince me to let you shed it instead, Dane?” Quizzically, she watched him, seeing the calculation, the gentle manipulations the Breed used as others would use a weapon. Efficiently, unmercifully.

“I was merely hoping.” He shrugged.

“Strangely,” she told him, “I really don’t give a fuck who cuts his throat, as long as someone does. And as long as they wait until I get the answers I want. Then I don’t care how he’s sent to hell.”

“Understandable,” he agreed before breathing in deeply and straightening against the wall. “Do me a favor, dear, don’t tell anyone but your mate I was here, if you don’t mind. I rather enjoy my American family, and learning who you saw the night your contact met with Dog and me could endanger our slowly merging bonds.” His grin was mocking. Too mocking.

“None of my business, Dane,” she promised him. “As long as Jonas gets what he wants and my parents walk away from this, then it’s really none of my business.”

“And they deserve to walk away?” he asked as she turned to leave.

Gypsy lowered her head, all too aware of the fact that she’d linked her fingers in front of herself nervously.

“They don’t deserve it,” she answered honestly. “But no one was hurt, Dane. No harm was done. And I don’t think I could survive seeing them punished when I should have known what was happening. When I should have remembered what Mark was trying to tell me.”

If she had, then she would never have spent nine years believing in a guilt she hadn’t owned. And maybe, just maybe, her mother wouldn’t have ended up hating her.