Saviours of Oestend Oestend 2 by Marie Sexton Read Free Book Online

back even more painful memories of his last night here, but it was something else—something fruity, but still strong enough to burn all the way down when he swallowed.
“We could play poker,” he told her as he handed it back. “Except the deck’s been missing three cards for a few years now.”
She shook her head. “I always lose.”
He sat down in one of the chairs. It creaked under his weight as he leant back and stretched his legs towards the stove.
“Are you happy to be going home?”
He shook his head. “Not really.”
She sat with her legs folded in front of her. She picked absently at the hem of her pant leg. “I feel like I should tell you something.” She glanced up at him, her eyes wary. “I know Daisy.”
Whatever he’d expected her to say, it hadn’t been that. He hung his head and covered his eyes with his hand so he didn’t have to face her. “You know her how?”
“From The Chalice. She works there now, you know.”
“Spreading her legs was the one thing she was good at.” The words were out of his mouth before he had time to think about what they might mean to Cami, who’d worked as a whore herself, but when he looked over at her, she didn’t seem upset.
“She’s the one who told me about Aren and Deacon and the BarChi.” She hesitated. “And about you.”
“So you talked to Daisy and to Aren, and you still wanted to come out to the Austin ranch and work for me?” He shook his head. “You must have been desperate.”
She scrunched up her nose, pursing her lips in confusion. “Aren had nothing bad to say about you.”
“Really?”
“He didn’t say much, really, but he promised you wouldn’t rape me.”
It surprised him. It proved once again that Aren was a better man than Dante. “Certainly Daisy wasn’t so kind.”
She laughed. “No, she wasn’t, but I learned right away I couldn’t trust everything she said. It wasn’t as if she lied, you know, but I had the impression she embellished things.” She looked at him, as if trying to decide how much more to say. “She said she loved you, but that your marriage ended because you couldn’t quit loving somebody who would never love you back.”
“That’s true.”
“Who was it?”
“She didn’t tell you?”
She shook her head. “I think that would have been admitting some kind of defeat. She wasn’t exactly proud of having been rejected by you.”
Dante was relieved she’d kept that detail to herself, no matter her reasons.
“She said you beat her.”
He sighed and put his head in his hands.
“Is it true?”
“Yes,” he said. “And no.”
“It’s one or the other, Dante.”
“Twice.”
“Twice, you beat her?”
“Twice, I slapped her.” The first time had been early in their marriage, when he’d first caught her lifting her skirt for a ranch hand. When he’d confronted her, she’d laughed in his face. “At least he knows what a cock is for,” she’d said. He’d smacked her, and he’d regretted it right away. He hadn’t been raised to mistreat women, and he hated that he’d let his rage get the best of him.
After that, he’d learned to keep his distance. He’d learned through the years how she liked to goad him and bait him, so he’d turned his rage on other things. Mostly furniture. Every chair he broke, his daddy made him replace. He’d become an expert at building the damn things.
The other time he’d struck her had been near the end, when she’d nearly blurted out the secret of his desire for Deacon. He’d regretted that, too.
Just one more regret to add to the list.
Cami hadn’t responded. When he looked up again, he was surprised to see a bit of amusement on her face.
“How long were you married?” she asked.
“Nearly eleven years.”
She laughed. “Hell, I knew her three weeks and I wanted to slap her at least that many times.”
He wanted to laugh too, but he couldn’t. “It was wrong.”
“It was,” she agreed. “The world is full of wrong.”
* * * *
    Driving into the