Page 4 of The Tracker's Revenge
A fond smile gently stretched his lips, and I held my breath, afraid to make a sound that would stop him from telling me the story.
“She ran to the sunroom where she kept him, so he could get natural light, and he was fine. Swimming a bit groggily, but alive. She fed him right away but then started worrying he would die anyway. So we did some research and found out that they can go quite some time without food. About fourteen days, give or take.” His eyes snapped to mine. “Happy?”
I barely managed a nod. This was the first time Eric had told me anything about his family, and he’d done it to ease my worries over my fish, which he had. Not just that, he’d also done something else, something that felt monumental. He’d let me in, let me step into a circle that came closer to his center, to where he stood isolated from anything and anyone.
Perhaps, I’d been wrong and Damien’s death hadn’t caused him to withdraw. Instead, it’d left him more lonely than ever and willing to let someone else in.
“Now, I’m going to get ready for our first meeting today,” he said. “I’ll be glad when we get rid of that stupid dagger. Let the Pack Rule deal with Bernadetta Fiore and Stephen Erickson. I want nothing to do with any of this anymore. It cost Damien his life. I don’t want it to cost you yours.”
Eric turned on his heel and left the kitchen. His words echoed inside my head, making me feel strangely touched. He was supposed to be ruthless, but he’d been nothing but good to me. And now, he seemed bent on protecting me. I couldn’t have anyone better on my side.
Chapter 2
Igaped at Rosalinaas she stuffed two handguns at either side of her ribs, secured by a leather holster that wrapped around her back and shoulders. After strapping them in place, she picked up a leather jacket from the bed and slipped it on.
When she noticed my dumbfounded expression, she cocked her eyebrow. “What?”
“Um, dunno, I think I’m a bit scared.”
“Good,” she said, pushing past me and leaving the room Eric had assigned her. It was the same size and shape as mine but decorated, not bare. The walls were painted in subtle pastel shades of yellow and lavender, and paintings of pretty flowers hung perfectly spaced on the walls. If I hadn’t known better, I might’ve guessed the room had belonged to his daughter, but I’d learned from Damien that Eric had sold the house he’d shared with his family shortly after their death.
Perhaps Eric had thought the room would fit Rosalina’s personality better since she was always so done up in her makeup and feminine outfits. But at the moment, it didn’t match her one bit. She looked badass, and I wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about it. She was even taking sword lessons from some guy Jake had referred her to.
I followed her down the hall. She walked with confident steps, her flat-heeled boots tapping on the hardwood floors. Normally, she wore cute heels to work—she had a big collection of them—but this morning she meant a different type of business.
Catching up to her, I gave her a smile, which she barely returned. I worried that Damien’s death would harden her—same as her weapon training seemed to have done. Damn Jake for teaching her! This was not the Rosalina I’d met, and I hated to think that these changes were my fault, that my messed-up life was messinghersup. It wasn’t fair. She didn’t need this, no one did.
“Um, maybe tomorrow we can get back to business,” I said. “Maybe Aaron will send some of his friends our way after Josh feels better.”
“Maybe,” was all she said in response.
I was about to say more when Eric joined us in the hall. “There you are. C’mon, the car’s ready.”
“Hurry, Triple T,” Rosalina said as I lagged behind.
Eric frowned over his shoulder. “Triple T? What does that stand for? No, don’t tell me.” He raised a finger and thought for a moment. “Oh, I got it. Toni the Tracker.”
