Independence: #4 Hayley by Karen Nichols Page B

froze in place when the sound of mug clinking against stone broke into her reverie, her head up and eyes on the noise. She almost took a step back. Almost turned and ran. But the tone of the voice, the sharpness, brought her immediately alert. Instantly frozen in place.
    “Hayley!” Jack spoke sharply, just loud enough to catch her attention.
    But it was Dane who moved forward. She looked from one to the other, eyes wide and breathing coming too quickly, like a bunny caught in the middle of two starving wolves.
    He felt her body tremble when he placed one hand on the center of her back, the other on her arm, guiding her forward. She offered no protest, not a word, even when he lifted her into one of the padded chairs surrounding the high breakfast bar.
    “Juice? We have apple and orange,” Jack slid a glass forward.
    “Apple, please,” she answered instantly.
    “Good start. Scrambled eggs, sausage patties and toast,” Dane pulled a large plate from inside the oven, lifted the cover and placed it before her. He added silverware before returning to lift his cup and lean against the counter, watching her. “If you don’t like that choice, tell us what you want, Hayley.”
    “How did I get here?” She repeated, lifting the fork and scooping up some of the bright yellow eggs. She groaned gratefully as she chewed. “Thank you. I think I missed dinner last night. I was a little nervous.”
    “We brought you here from the club last night,” Jack told her, refilling the juice she’d almost drained. “You weren’t in any condition to drive. Actually, you seemed almost comatose and exhausted.”
    “Your pack is in the bedroom where you were sleeping, along with the keys to your truck. Which is really sweet, by the way,” Dane remarked appreciably.
    “You drove my truck!?” She demanded, swallowing hastily and glaring from one to the other.
    “She’ll share her body with us, but her truck is off limits,” Jack laughed, his head shaking.
    “I am not a slut.”
    Dane closed one eye. “That’s heavy conversation for this time of the morning, but okay. We do not consider you a slut, Hayley,” he told her firmly, honestly. “I don’t know which of your relatives that one comes from, but…”
    Pale brown lashes squeezed shut, one hand raised with one finger up. “I am sorry.”
    “I have a feeling we might have to work to convince you that we don’t have the opinions or beliefs of the male relatives you’ve been exposed to all your life. Open your eyes and finish eating.” Jack waited patiently for her eyes to open and for her to resume eating before continuing. “Not everyone has the same views or opinions of sex and relationships as we do.”
    “Or even of the people in the club,” Dane added. “Or I’m thinking, some of your close friends.”
    “I’m sorry. I might have mouth issues,” she murmured, relief on her face when both of them laughed. “I…umm…don’t remember what happened after…” she winced, her gaze kept on the fork and food on the plate. “I remember the cross,” she said after swallowing. “I remember I kept thinking…about where I was and…” she shook her head slowly.
    “I think a lot of tension slipped free last night, Hayley,” Dane said simply, moving and lifting the coffee pot from the maker. He refilled his cup and offered it to Jack before sliding it back into the burner. “And I’d take another guess that you’ve been wound up for a long time and possibly even overworking yourself…”
    Jack sighed when her silence stretched out.
    “Hayley, have you read anything about the Dom/sub relationship?”
    “Not very much,” she finally admitted, picking at the piece of toast when she finished the last of the sausage patty.
    “When did you eat yesterday?” Dane asked curiously, smiling at the surprise on her face. At least he managed to get her to look up at them.
    “I…lunch…” she shrugged. “I think I was a little nervous about last