Chapter Eleven
Kenzie
Iturn to the left, flowing through one movement after another as Bianca snaps photo after photo. My mind is a million miles away, but I keep a smile on my face, pretending this is the best day of my life.
It feels a little like hell to me. Every time I lift my gaze, it's to find someone whispering about me. They've been doing it all damn day. It's turned the photoshoot into a disaster. I'm tense and distracted, and it shows in the photos.
I keep picturing Lyle sitting at that desk in his video, his hands clasped, a fake, sympathetic look on his face. As if he regrets the words coming out of his mouth, as if he truly believed them. We both know he didn't. Every word he said was a lie.
I've never wanted to run someone over with a tractor as much as I want to run him over. I hate that he's reduced me to that. He's winning without even realizing it. He probably thinks turning people against me is the true victory. It isn't. This is. Making me hate him is how he wins.
It's something I swore I'd never do, let someone harden my heart to the point of hatred. Yet, I feel it right now. And I feel it for him.
Lexie Colbert meets my gaze when I glance to the right, sneering at me. She's the same one who kept looking at Zion as if he should have been on her arm instead of mine at the fundraiser. She's been the worst today. Every time I look at her, she's giving me dirty looks.
This time, it shatters my already tenuous hold on professionalism. I trip over my own feet, nearly falling in a heap.
"Let's take five," Bianca suggests, her eyes full of empathy as she smiles at me. She's one of the only people here aside from Olive and Madden not treating me like I have a contagious disease.
"Thank you," I whisper, quickly stepping out from beneath the bright lights.
I no more make it to the sidelines before Olive and Madden are breathing down my neck again. I love them so much for caring. I know they're worried. But they've been hovering all day like they expect me to crack. It's stressing me out.
"I'll be right back," I mutter, slipping around them to hurry down the hall to the bathroom. As soon as I'm inside, I lean back against the door, inhaling a deep breath.
Tears well in my eyes, threatening to trickle over.
Keep it together, Makenzie. Keep it together.
I push away from the door, running cool water in the sink. I splash a little on my neck, hoping that'll help. It doesn't. My mind and heart are still at war. Zion is out there somewhere right now, fighting my battles for me.
He shouldn't have to do that. Yet, he is.
What have I ever done to deserve him? I can't think of a single thing.
I give myself five minutes to wallow before I force myself to get my shit together again. I touch up my hair and blot oil from my face. Once I'm more or less put back together, I pull my phone out to check for messages from Zion. There's only one, sent right after he left.
Zion: You're marrying me.
A smile stretches across my face, laughter burbling from my lips. Somehow, he isn't even here, and he's still managed to find a way to make this day a million times better.
I quickly type a response before replacing the phone in my bra and stepping out of the bathroom, my burden lighter than it's been all day. I fully expect to find Olive waiting on the other side of the door.
She isn't.
I step out into the living room to find her under the lights in an arabesque as Bianca's assistant shifts her into place. Everyone else is on their phones, buzzing about something. God only knows what this time. Probably me again.
Madden crosses to me, taking up a position at my side.
"You stopped sending me the middle finger emoji. I almost sent the police to perform a welfare check on Zion."
I laugh quietly. He really is like an annoying older brother. Only, he makes my best friend glow. She's glowing now, dancing from one pose to the next, as graceful as ever. She's always been beautiful, but since falling for Madden, she's lit from within.
Do people see the same thing when they look at me now?
I snort at the question, doubting it. All they see at the moment is the thieving trollop Lyle painted me to be.
"Ignore them, Kenz. Everyone who matters knows the truth."
He's not wrong, but that doesn't mean he's right either. My integrity is everything. People don't hire who they don't trust. And I'll never get where I'm trying to go if everyone believes Lyle's version of events.
I think he knows it, too. I think that's exactly why he decided to post that video. He couldn't force me to pay him, so he'll force me out of business instead. That's what all of this is really about, isn't it? His greed. He sees me as a threat. And the more popular I become, the bigger of a threat he thinks I am to his bottom line.
The buzzing grows louder around us. I practically feel their gazes on me, boring into my back. God, I wish Zion were here. It doesn't matter how hard people stare when he's standing beside me. I don't notice anything but him. How can I when he consumes every thought in my mind?
"Oh, my God," someone blurts, loudly enough for everyone to hear.
Madden's phone rings at the same time, piercing through the room. He curses under his breath, yanking it from his pocket. Whatever he sees on the screen has him answering with a furrow between his brows instead of silencing it.
"What?" he says.
Someone behind me asks the same question.
"Lyle Taggert shot someone. It's all over social media."
I'm watching Madden's face as the girl behind me answers. I see what no one else does the split second of horror that flashes in his eyes before he's able to school it. And I know without even asking that Lyle didn't shoot someone.
He shot Zion.
The world goes dark, every ounce of light and warmth sucked out of it at once. I stumble, a broken cry tumbling from my lips as the ground rushes up to meet me.
"Move out of the fucking way," Madden growls, whipping around cars on the interstate as he rushes toward the hospital, trying to get me to Zion. I'm in the backseat with Olive, her hand clutched in mine so tightly I know it has to hurt.
I can't let her go, though. She's the only thing keeping me from falling to pieces right now. Zion's been shot, and I can't think. I can't breathe. All I see is the scars littering his body. All I hear are his words echoing in my mind.
That's the bullet that should have killed me. Instead, it took most of my hearing.
He survived once when he shouldn't have. What if what if
That question battles in my mind in an endless litany. What if he doesn't this time? What if Lyle killed him? What if I never see his face again or feel his arms around me? What if my life ended in a mansion, surrounded by people who think the worst of me?
If he's gone, that's precisely when it happened. The moment I lost him.
There is no future for me without him in it. At least not one I want.
I realize right then and there, that I'm nothing like my mother, willing to sacrifice everything for any man who will have me. I'm not. But I'd give up every inch of my soul for one singular man, the only one capable of owning any part of me. It's impossible for me to be like her when there's nothing in this world I want more than his arms around me, his voice at my ear.
This isn't temporary or easily replaced. This is forever.
If he's gone
"Please," I pray, tears leaking down my cheeks. "Please, God."
Olive sobs quietly beside me.
Madden blows through a yellow light outside the entrance to the hospital, taking the turn at breakneck speed. He drives right up to the doors at the ER.
I don't even wait for him to come to a complete stop before I'm jumping out. I rush inside with Olive right behind me, my heart in my throat.
"Zion Carmichael," I say, my voice shaking. "I n-need to see Zion Carmichael."
The receptionist a middle-aged woman with burnished copper hair, looks at me over the rim of her glasses. "You need to sign in."
"I need to see Zion."
Someone steps up beside me, casting a shadow over the desk. "Take her back," he growls, his voice so familiar it's eerie. I look up at him and know immediately that he's one of Zion's brothers. They look too much alike not to be related.
"Gideon?"
"Zayne," he says, his expression softening as he looks me over. "You're Kenzie?"
I nod, tears still spilling down my cheeks. I can't stop them. "Is is he ?"
"Alive," Zayne says. "Though, fair warnin', I may kill him later."
The receptionist recoils.
"He's my little brother. I'm allowed," Zayne growls at her. "Let Kenzie back before he rips your entire ER apart."
"He's awake?"
Zayne nods. "Awake and mad as hell." His jaw tightens. "Taggert's right across the hall from him. Some genius thought bringing him here was a good idea."
The icicles growing in my veins begin to thaw, allowing me to draw a breath. Zion's alive. He's safe.
I won't believe it until I see him for myself.
"Go on back then," the receptionist mutters, clearly annoyed that we're not following her rules. The door to the back buzzes before slowly opening.
I glance at Olive.
"Go!" she cries.
I don't stop to ask directions. I run. I don't need the directions anyway. Between the police officers stationed outside his door and his booming voice, I have a roadmap leading right to him.
"I swear to Christ, if you don't get back in this bed right this instant, Zion Alaric Carmichael, I'm telling your father you growled at me."
"I don't need to be in the fucking bed, Ma. I want out of here."
"Don't curse at me."
I follow their voices, stumbling to a stop at the door to a trauma room. Zion's standing beside the bed without a shirt, weaving on his feet. Bandages cover his left shoulder, streaking with blood. His mom's across from him, her hands planted on her hips as she glares at him. His other brother Gideon is sitting in a chair off to the side, watching the show.
I don't know if I make a sound or if Zion simply feels me there, but he looks up, those piercing green eyes locking on my face.
"Angel baby," he breathes.
I sink to my knees, sobbing.
"Ah, baby." Within moments, he's in front of me, pulling me onto his lap. His right arm comes around me, anchoring me to his body as he buries his face in my hair, holding me right there on the floor. "I'm here. I'm right here."
"I'm s-s-so mad at you!" I cry. "I thought you were dead, Zion. You c-can't ask me to m-marry you and then die!"
"I didn't ask, Makenzie. It wasn't a question. You're marrying me."
"Oh, dear," his mom whispers.
"Jesus Christ," his brother laughs.
"I thought I lost you." I press my face to his skin, breathing him in. Allowing him to absorb my tears and the weight of my emotions.
"Never," he growls. "Not for Lyle Taggert. Not for any goddamn reason. You're mine, angel baby. I love you."
"I love you too. So much, Zion. So much."
"Well, it's time for me to get the fuck out before this gets awkward," Gideon mutters.
"Take Ma with you."
"Your brother isn't taking me anywhere, Zion Alaric."
"Ma, please give me five minutes with my girl," he pleads quietly, not even lifting his face from my hair. "You can bug the shit out of her when I'm done."
"Fine. But I'm not doing it for you," his mom sniffs. "I'm only going because you need to get that sweet girl off the floor and apologize for making her cry."
"Yes, ma'am," Zion says immediately.
His mom huffs, and then she and Gideon step around us, leaving us alone.
Zion tucks a finger beneath my chin, tipping my head back to examine my face. "You're too beautiful to be crying over me, angel baby."
"Then you should have thought about that before you got yourself shot." My bottom lip quivers, more tears welling in my eyes. "I thought you were d-dead, Zion."
Pain flashes in his eyes, vast and bright. "You think anything on this earth could drag me away from you? Hell no, beautiful. I didn't fight to get you to fall for me just so I could leave you for some other motherfucker to scoop up. You're stuck with me." He runs the fingers of his right hand under my eyes, drying my tears. "You've cried enough because of that prick, Makenzie."
"Did you ?" I can't bring myself to ask if Zion shot him. I don't think I'm ready to face whatever consequences something like that brings screaming into reality.
"No," he says, allowing me to pull in a breath. "I didn't shoot him, and I left him breathing. Figured you'd want it that way."
"Good, then I can finish the job myself," I growl, trying to climb from his lap.
He drags me right back down onto him. "He was at your place again. I found him lurking in the backyard. I don't know what the fuck he was planning, but he came with a gun. You aren't going anywhere near him, not today or any other day."
"W-what did you do to him?"
"Taught him what it feels like to have someone put their hands on you against your will. The fucker shot me when I was walking away."
"And you didn't kill him?" I confirm, just to be sure.
"No, but it'll be a while before he's able to use either of his arms." A savage grin overtakes his face. "Or breathe through his nose. Or see out of his right eye." He brushes tendrils of hair away from my face. "I don't think he'll be a problem for anyone again. Not unless he shoves a phone up his ass to Tweet from a prison cell."
"Zion!"
"Just speaking facts, angel baby," he says with a shrug before hauling me closer to his chest. I bump his shoulder and he hisses through his teeth.
"I'm sorry," I whisper, my gaze falling to the bandages wrapped around him.
"Don't apologize to me, Makenzie. The bullet went straight through, and you weren't the one who shot me. Besides, it doesn't hurt nearly as much as my fucking cock right now." He lifts his hips slightly, pressing his erection against my ass. "Having you on my lap and not being able to do anything about it is the ninth circle of hell, beautiful."
I groan, falling forward to bury my face in his good shoulder. He catches me to him with a wicked laugh, holding me close to his heart as my own settles into a rhythm to match, feeling stronger than it's ever been.
We sit like that for several long moments before I remember the text I sent him.
"Oh!" I bound off his lap, looking for his phone. I give up after about two seconds. His room is a mess. Did he run the staff out of here before they were able to clean up? Why am I even asking that question? Of course he did. "Where's your phone?"
"Ma has it. Why?"
I fish mine out of my dress. "You really should check your texts more," I say, handing it over to him. "I sent you one while you were getting shot."
"Damn." He snaps his fingers. "Next time, I'll ask for a time out so I can read it."
"Next time?"
He grins at me, taking the phone from my outstretched hands.
I stand silently, waiting for him to pull it up.
As soon as he does, he drops the phone, a growl rumbling in his throat.
Zion: You're marrying me.
Make me.
"Oh, angel baby," he breathes, climbing to his feet with the devil in his eyes and a wicked smile on his lips. "You really shouldn't have sent that. This whole fucking hospital is about to hear me make you."
I shiver in anticipation as he pushes the door closed and stalks toward me, licking his lips.
"We can't have sex in here, Zion."
"I'm aware." He hooks his arm around me, hauling me up against his body. "But that doesn't mean I can't bend you over the side of this bed and make you come all over my fucking fingers, Makenzie. We both know how much you love when I take what I want, where I want. So be a good fucking girl and get that gorgeous ass in the air."
"Zion."
"Now, angel baby."
I don't tell him no. I never do.