Well, shit. I’d been so focused on protecting my mate, I’d revealed I was tracking him.
“Ummm…”
“Are you following me?” His voice wasn’t at Level 10 but it was rising.
“Following. That’s an interesting word. Technically no to following.”
“Boaz!” Now he’d lowered his tone, and I was freaking out.
“Yes,” I squeaked.
“Tell me.”
Damn. I confessed, and my mate was silent as I fumbled and tripped over words trying to explain how I wanted to protect him.
“Home, now!” He ended the call, and I took the elevator to the parking garage. I was in deep doo-doo, and I considered dawdling home. But my phone beeped with a one-word text.
Now!
Shit.
Keane arrived at the same time as me, and he parked in the driveway. He stormed into the house, dumping the bags of groceries on the island, and headed into our bedroom.
I followed behind, my head down. The word “meek” seemed appropriate, but I’d never exhibited that type of behavior previously.
“What the hell, Boaz? I’m your mate, the father of your child, not someone you’re hoping to, what? Kill? Imprison? Banish?
I fell to my knees on the carpet and tried to take my mate’s hand, but he wasn’t having it.
“I am you mate, your equal.”
“Yes.” How could he think otherwise?
My mate tossed his phone at me, and instead of ducking, I let it whack me on the forehead.
“Take it off and whatever else you have on your phone.”
I flicked my gaze toward the camera, hidden in the clock.
“You didn’t.” Keane leaped off the bed and stomped on the clock. He got under the covers and pulled them over his head. His body shook with loud sobs, and it was my fault.
“May I get under there with you?”
“No, go away.”
I sat cross-legged on the floor until my mate stopped crying, and he flipped off the covers.
“Still here?”
“I made a huge mistake, and I’m an asshat, but I’m not going anywhere.”
“Yes.” Keane sat up and folded his arms. “You invaded my privacy.”
Privacy? Growing up in a pack and with five brothers, there was none of that.
“I was worried something might happen to you.”
“Something might.”