Chapter 309 Chapter 309
He stood there looking at the cabin, Giana was still sleeping. Rubbing his hands over his beard, Deacon dropped his head down to rest in them. What did I do? Last night, being with her was the most amazing and possibly stupidest thing he’d ever done in his life so far. Jerking his head up, he looked at the cabin again. He could see her beneath him, every time he closed his eyes now, pale, beautiful, and his. Only she wasn’t officially ‘his’.
Touching the mark on his neck for the hundredth time, he blew out a long breath. It hadn’t healed when he’d shifted earlier. Part of him had wanted it to heal over, the other part was proud to wear her mark. Turning, he went back over to the truck, to repack his gear—that didn’t need repacking.
She’d marked him. His heart had felt like it was going to explode in his chest when she’d done it. His animal had screamed in victory inside him. Currently, the creature was still mad that Deacon hadn’t claimed her right then and there. He’d wanted to. He almost had. After he’d been afraid to move, afraid to be close to her for fear his animal would break through his control and do just that. Then he’d looked at her and his heart felt like it was stuck in his throat, she was so beautiful.
He slammed the door to the truck and then winced. Jerking around he looked at the cabin, hoping he hadn’t woken her up. This was a clusterfuck beyond all others. The only thread of logic he was clinging to was the fact that ‘mine’ didn’t really qualify as her accepting him and claiming him properly. He opened the door and then rested his forehead on the frame. “Keep telling yourself that and eventually, you might believe it.” He couldn’t walk away from her now. Which left him with another bigger problem, how could he be with her all the time without a repeat of last night and that would lead to marking her? Because he only had so much willpower and as he found out last night, Giana could smash through it without even trying.
Blowing out another breath, he opened the door again and reached behind the seat, he lifted the long case out. Cleaning his rifle was on today’s list, along with just about anything else he could think of to keep busy and keep his hands off her. Setting the case on the hood, he went back and grabbed the smaller pack to get what he needed. Reaching in, he felt his phone, the one he wasn’t supposed to use. Fuck.
Anytime he’d felt like he was losing his mind, he talked to Calum. The man always had some sort of answer that set his head straight.
Setting the bag beside his rifle case, he stomped over to where he’d put his run pack. Protocol be damned, if he didn’t talk to someone about this, he was going to turn into a raging lunatic. Opening it as he went back to the truck, he pulled out the phone and brought up the emergency number. This qualified as an emergency.
He wasn’t surprised to hear Illias on the other end.
“Deacon, it’s Illias, what’s happening?”
Closing his eyes, he tried not to sound like a lovesick idiot. “I need to contact Calum.”
“Has something happened? I thought you’d be secure.” Illias cursed a few times.
“We’re secure.”
“Thank fuck. You gave me a heart attack. Does it constitute an emergency? I’ve been told to not give out numbers unless it does.”
Deacon raised an eyebrow, “you always follow the rules?”
Illias laughed, “no. Hang on.”
Deacon breathed a sigh of relief that he didn’t have to try to explain that he needed Calum to exercise the demons chasing his soul right now. He wrote down the number. “Any word on when we can go again?”
“I just have to wait for Fallen to find a safe, off-the-record location, so I’m hoping by tomorrow.”
Deacon shoulders dropped with relief. One day, he could do that. He really needed his job to distract him right now. “Sounds good.”
“Don’t forget to check your six,” Illias laughed, “I have no idea what that means, I heard it in a movie.”
Deacon grinned, “I’m watching my back, don’t worry.”
“Ah, got it.” The line went dead.