Jesse pointed hard at her. “And no one expects you to be.”
“Damn right.” Eli patted her shoulder. “It had to have been a shock to see the vid on that fucked-up website.”
“We’ll find out who uploaded it, and we’ll obliterate them—I promise you that.” Nick gently pushed her back onto the sofa, like she wouldn’t be able to stand on her own steam or something.
Zander came over then, his expression sympathetic—hell, she hadn’t been sure the hard enforcer was capable of empathizing with another person. “Can I get you anything? Coffee? Something to eat?”
“No,” she gritted out, “I’m fine.”
“Stop saying you’re fine,” ordered Nick, though his voice was gentle. “I saw you when you ran out of the tunnels—you were ready to explode. If I hadn’t been on the verge of exploding myself, I’d have gone after you.” His expression hardened slightly. “I’ve got to admit you were a lot calmer when I found you with Fuller.”
She shook her head. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what? Warn you that you made a huge mistake? Warn you that Fuller isn’t good for you?”
“I’ve heard it all before—it’s getting tedious.”
“He marked you, for God’s sake.” Of course that comment drew everyone’s attention to her neck. Then they were all talking at once.
“Whoa, he branded you?” Eli gawked.
Jesse whistled. “That’s not exactly a discreet one either.”
“You let a guy mark you?” Bracken seemed mystified.
“Is he still breathing?” asked a wide-eyed Zander.
“You’re making a bigger deal out of this than you need to, Nick.” Derren sighed.
Roni closed her eyes for a few seconds, seeking patience. “This is my personal business.”
Nick folded his arms. “I did some checking on Fuller.”
“You did what?” she growled.
“I had Donovan dig up some details for me.” And he sounded much too unrepentant for her liking. “I always do checks on any guys who show interest in you.”
“Will we ever get to meet this mysterious Donovan?” asked Eli, taking the seat beside her.
“No.” There was a short pause. “Don’t you want to know what he discovered about Fuller?” Nick asked Roni.
“No, I don’t. His business is his business.” She was curious, of course—particularly since Marcus had claimed to have a “twisted story” about his family. But unlike Nick, she didn’t believe it was fair to invade other people’s privacy.
“He ever talk about his father to you?”
“Do you really think I’d break his confidence if he had?”
“Roni, the guy was violent. Used to beat his mate until she was black and blue. People were too scared to confront him about it, and his mate always came up with pretty excuses for her injuries.” Every male in the room growled.
She could understand their disgust and outrage. Mates were something to treasure and protect, were considered a gift that was sacred. To abuse that gift, to harm that person in any way, was abhorrent and callous. “And while that’s a horrible story, I don’t see why this would mean Marcus ‘isn’t good’ for me.”
“It doesn’t bother you that he hasn’t helped her? He could have done something, Roni. As a kid, he was helpless. But later on, he could have stepped in and defended his mother. He could have gotten her away from that bastard. But he didn’t. He left her with him. That doesn’t bother you?”
Eli spoke then. “Nothing’s ever that simple, Nick. There could be more to his story than that. Maybe his mom hadn’t wanted help. Maybe his dad had beaten him too.”
“According to Donovan, there was never anything to suggest that Marcus or his sisters suffered.”
“Doesn’t mean it didn’t happen,” said Roni. “Now do us all a favor and concentrate on your own life instead of busying yourself interfering with mine.” She’d known Marcus was a guy with secrets even before he’d mentioned his “twisted story,” so finding out he had some skeletons wasn’t at all a surprise.
What was a surprise was that Marcus hadn’t whisked his mother away from his father—that just didn’t fit with the protective wolf she knew. Sure, his mother might have refused to leave, might have turned on Marcus for trying to interfere. But Marcus was persistent by nature; he would have pushed and pushed until she agreed to leave, or until his father vowed never to touch her again.
Or maybe Roni was reading him wrong; maybe she didn’t know him at all.
In any case, there was always more to every story. Roni knew better than most how people’s stories could be distorted the more it traveled through the grapevine.
Besides, what right did she have to judge another? What was so special about her that gave her the right to condemn or pass judgment on what another person did or didn’t do?
“How about we move off the subject of Fuller?” proposed Derren. “He’s not what’s important right now.”
“Fine.” Nick exhaled heavily. “Listen, Roni, I’ve been thinking and . . . I think we should tell Mom about the vid being on the website.”
“What?”
“Hear me out. She can help you with this; she’s someone you can talk to about it. You’ve got Shaya too, obviously, but—”
“No way.”
“Telling Kathy won’t help anyone,” Derren told Nick. “All it will do is make her hysterical and, in turn, make Roni miserable because of the subsequent increase in coddling.”
“But she can talk to Roni, be a shoulder for her to—”
Roni jumped to her feet, growling. “You tell Mom, and I’ll slit your throat.”
Nick raised his hands, palms out. “Calm down, Roni.” He said it like she was a psycho who was hanging on the edge. “I know you’re upset about the vid—”
Calmly but coldly, she insisted, “Get out.”
“But you’ve got us. We’re here for you.”
“Get out.”
“All we want is to help you, be here for you. Come on, come with us—you don’t have to lock yourself away. We won’t judge you for crying.”
Crying? “Fuck this.” And she shifted.