CHAPTER 91: ANGRY

Hailee’s POV

He chuckled softly, clearly amused at my reaction. "Relax, Sleeping Beauty. You looked way too peaceful for me to wake you."

I scrambled off the couch, my heart pounding as I reached for my bag. My phone was buried inside, the screen lighting up the moment I touched it.

My stomach dropped.

Twenty missed calls from Nathan. Four from Dane.

And a flood of unread texts from both.

"Oh my God..." I muttered under my breath.

I quickly checked my settings—my phone was on silent. When the hell did I even put it on silent?!

Callum sat up, looking a little concerned now. "Hailee? What’s wrong?"

"I—uh—I have to go," I said quickly, shoving my phone into my hand and grabbing my bag. "I’ll explain later."

Without waiting for his reply, I was already scrolling to Nathan’s contact and pressing call.

The line rang only once before he picked up.

"Hailee?" Nathan’s voice came through, low but laced with concern. "Are you okay? I’ve been calling you for hours. I was... worried."

I swallowed hard, guilt already creeping in. "I’m fine... I just—uh—I slept off."

There was a brief pause on the other end, his tone shifting slightly. "You weren’t home, right? Because I actually came to check on you earlier."

My stomach twisted tighter. Lying would only make it worse. "No... I wasn’t home. I was with... Callum."

Silence. Long, heavy silence.

When he finally spoke, his voice was calmer than I expected, but it carried an edge I couldn’t quite read. "It’s... good you’re okay."

I bit my lip, hesitating. "About our date... can we still—"

"It’s too late, Hailee," he cut in softly. "We’ll talk some other time."

Before I could say anything else, he added a quiet, "Goodnight," and the line went dead.

The guilt in my chest wouldn’t let me breathe.

No. I couldn’t leave it like this.

Before I could overthink it, I headed straight to the pack mansion.

The guards at the gate looked surprised to see me at this hour.

"Hailee?" one of them asked. "It’s... kind of late."

"I know," I said quickly, forcing a small smile. "Nathan knows I’m coming."

That seemed to satisfy them, and they let me through.

I stepped into the living room—only to stop short.

Dane was there.

He was lounging casually on one of the leather couches, one arm stretched over the backrest, a glass of something amber in his other hand. His eyes lifted to mine instantly, and he furrowed his brow.

"Well," he said, setting the glass down slowly, "this is... unexpected. You’re here."

I swallowed and stepped closer. "Dane, I’m sorry... I fell asleep, and my phone was on silent. I didn’t mean to ignore your calls or texts."

Dane gave me an unreadable look that made it difficult to tell how he was feeling. I took another step closer and swallowed hard again. "Please, I will make it up to you," I promised.

Dane didn’t look convinced. He just nodded, picked up his glass, and took another sip.

I stood there and watched, not knowing what to say or do... For a moment, the only sound between us was the faint clink of the ice in Dane’s glass as he swirled it. His gaze flicked up to me again, sharp but calm in a way that made my stomach knot even tighter.

"You’ll make it up to me?" he asked finally, his tone unreadable. "How, Hailee? By disappearing again? By letting me wonder all evening if something happened to you?"

I opened my mouth, but the words tangled in my throat. "No... I just—"

He set his drink down with a soft thud and leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. "Do you have any idea how worried I was?" His voice was low, but laced with restrained anger. "You could have been hurt. And then I find out you were with Callum."

My chest tightened painfully. "It wasn’t like that, Dane—"

"Doesn’t matter," he cut me off. "You chose him over me tonight. And I’m starting to think..." He trailed off, his jaw clenching before he could finish.

I took another step toward him, lowering my voice. "I didn’t choose him over you. I just... I wasn’t thinking. I fell asleep. I messed up. I’m sorry."

For a long moment, he just stared at me, and I couldn’t tell if he was going to keep pushing or let it go.

Finally, he sat back again, exhaling slowly. "Go find Nathan," he said, almost too casually. "He was worried about you."

His words hurt, but I didn’t argue. I gave him one last look—hoping my eyes could show the apology my words hadn’t fixed—before I turned and headed for the stairs.

I stopped outside Nathan’s room, my heart pounding in my ears.

I lifted my hand and knocked softly.

No answer.

I waited a few seconds, then knocked again, a little firmer this time. "Nathan... it’s me."

Silence.

Something in my chest tightened. I didn’t leave, I couldn’t. Instead, I slowly turned the doorknob and pushed the door open, stepping inside.

He was lying on his bed, his back to me, the blanket pulled up to his shoulders. The room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of the lamp on his nightstand.

I closed the door quietly behind me. "Nathan," I called softly as I moved closer to the bed.

No answer.

But I knew he wasn’t sleeping because his breathing was too steady, too controlled. There was a stiffness in his shoulders that told me he was awake.

"Nathan... I know you’re not asleep," I whispered, my voice almost breaking.

Still, he didn’t move. He stayed facing away from me, shutting me out completely.

I stood there for a long moment, my heart racing. My throat felt tight.

"Nathan... I’m sorry," I whispered, the words barely leaving my lips.

But no reaction from him.

The silence between us felt like a wall I couldn’t break through. My chest ached with guilt.

Slowly, I turned, ready to leave and give him space... but my feet wouldn’t move.

I couldn’t walk away.

Before I knew it, I was climbing onto the bed. The mattress dipped under my weight as I carefully slipped under the blanket, close enough to feel the heat of his body.