Nathan's POV
Timothy walked me back to the house. Apparently, he needed to give Derrick feedback about how the day went. I was put under him for a reason. As we headed back, I couldn't stop thinking about what he had said regarding Derrick and 'how he was'.
Derrick was a lot of things, and annoying just so happened to be one of those special characteristics of his.
Would he be angry that I had talked to Caleb and Jaxon?
Would he even care?
We reached the pack house and moved to the living room. Derrick was sitting alone in there, his legs crossed, one hand resting under his chin and the other holding a glass of something dark. Knowing Derrick, it was undoubtedly whiskey.
I stood still beside Timothy as he approached Derrick. He took a seat right in front of me while I stood by the entrance, just staring and watching them.
Well, watching Derrick. His eyes were on me as well, lazy and dark and immersed in silent rage.
