Chapter 150 150
Jacqueline lowered her gaze to his chest and let her hand fall back to her side.
“It was just the heat of the moment,” he said stiffly. “Don’t read anything into it.”
He looked furious jaw tight, shoulders rigid. His voice was cold enough to cut.
“Okay,” she replied quietly, eyes fixed on the floor.
Okay?
That was it?
He had expected tears. Accusations. A scene. Anything but this soft acceptance.
“We can’t be anything, Jacqueline,” he continued, his voice rough like gravel dragged over stone. “I want that clear right now.”
She swallowed, forcing the swarm of emotions back down her throat. “I understand,” she murmured.
And that only confused him more.
Wasn’t she supposed to ask why? Wasn’t she meant to be angry? To demand answers? Her calm submission scraped against his nerves until irritation flared hotter in his chest.
“Fine. Then you can leave,” he growled.
She flinched at his tone, but she still didn’t lift her eyes to meet his.
Why the hell wouldn’t she look at him?
He watched her closely as she remained standing there. Her lips parted slightly, like she wanted to say something, but then she pressed them together again.
“What?” he bit out.
“I… need a favor,” she whispered.
His eyes narrowed further. “What is it?” he asked, voice flat and cold.
“Mathieu’s medicine. Could you please pick it up tomorrow? I’d really appreciate it.” Her gaze stayed lowered, fixed on the floor as though she couldn’t bear to look at him.
A curse rang through his mind. He felt like a complete bastard.
“I’ll get it,” he answered, his tone softer now.
She extended a small piece of paper toward him the prescription neatly written across it. He took it from her hand. Before he could add another word, she turned quickly and hurried up the stairs, nearly stumbling in her haste.
—
Inside her room, she locked the door behind her. Her legs felt weak as she made her way to the window. She sank onto the couch, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. A long, shaky sigh escaped her as she leaned sideways, resting her head against the cushion.
He regretted kissing her.
That was what hurt the most.
“It’s okay, Jacq,” she whispered to herself, voice trembling. “Y-you’re strong. You’ve survived worse than this. This is nothing. You’re strong. You have yourself…”
The words were meant to soothe, but they barely dulled the ache.
Another night passed without sleep.
—
Damien stood under a freezing shower, water cascading over him as his mind replayed the confrontation at his door.
Before returning home, he had gone for a long run letting his wolf surface, letting the wildness inside him stretch its limbs. It had helped, at least for a while.
But the moment she appeared at his door looking fragile and heartbreakingly beautiful it all unraveled again.
He shouldn’t have treated her that way. She hadn’t even come to talk about the kiss. Maybe it hadn’t meant much to her.
But to him
She was the first woman he had ever kissed.
He could still feel the surge of desire that had flooded his veins hot, intoxicating, overwhelming.
If he had brought them into this house, then he should damn well take responsibility for them. He’d bought clothes for the kid, sure but the medication had slipped his mind completely. He hadn’t even taken Mathieu to a doctor yet, knowing how serious his condition could become.
And her wounds?
Fuck.
How was she enduring that pain without proper ointment? He clenched his fists. He had been a complete asshole.
He’d been keeping tabs on Julien. The bastard was losing his mind trying to find Jacqueline and Mathieu. To the outside world, he’d spun a neat lie telling her friends she was ill and needed time alone. They had tried to visit when she stopped answering calls and messages, but so far Julien had managed to keep everything hidden.
He didn’t want anyone to see who he truly was.
But he had no idea what was coming for him.
—
The next morning Damien was just as irritable. Sleep had barely touched him, and someone, one stubborn, infuriating girl refused to leave his thoughts.
The more he thought about her, the stronger the urge became to track Julien down and end him.
At least he’d managed to keep his mind from wandering where it shouldn’t.
He left the house early. When he returned later, the scent of food greeted him at the door warm, rich, inviting. He hadn’t tasted her cooking before, but if the smell was anything to go by, it would be incredible.
Instead of heading toward the kitchen where he was certain she’d be standing, radiant as ever he chose the hall. Dropping onto the lounge, he leaned back, trying to relax.
Mathieu stepped out of his room and quietly sat beside him. Neither of them spoke.
Damien grabbed the plastic bag from beside him and tossed it onto the boy’s lap.
“Give that to your sister,” he said.
Mathieu glanced at him briefly before hurrying toward the kitchen.
Mathieu still hadn’t returned, but Jacqueline emerged moments later. Her hair was tied up in a bun. He preferred it loose, cascading down her back to her waist.
“Breakfast is ready,” she said with a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
He didn’t have it in him to refuse. Besides, he was curious.
He followed her to the table. Mathieu was already seated at the small four-chair dining set. Damien joined him, and Jacqueline soon placed a pot of coffee in the center before taking her seat.
Pancakes.
And, of course, chocolate syrup. She had an undeniable obsession with chocolate.
He took a bite.
Then another.
He had to admit it was good. Really good.
After breakfast, Jacqueline handed Mathieu his medicine. Then her gaze fell on the ointment in the bag.
Her eyes lifted and collided with Damien’s. He had already been watching her.
She looked away quickly, clearing her throat.
“Thank you,” she said softly.