Sawyer
One day goes by, and two, and then a third, with no word from Domino.
It makes me uneasy as hell.
I need to make a move to go back into the city and get my stuff from my apartment, and probably get the money I have stashed away in my safety deposit box there. But I’ve been staying around, day after day, because I can’t tear myself away from Zelda.
I’ve made a couple more visits to my dad’s house.
Short ones, when Jem is there usually, and he seems to be rallying a little bit.
My mind is consumed with an excitement I’m not used to feeling.
I’m stuck in this weird limbo, waiting for the rest of my life—my life after Domino, after beating people up for a living—to start.
My life with Zelda. But I still have one foot planted firmly in the past.
Tonight was a big night, by any standards. Tonight was the night that Zelda’s mom invited me over for dinner.
She caught us while I was walking her home from the library.
It’s nice enough now that she walks when she can, but lately there’s been a nervous energy in her face when she talks about walking, so I go with her before her shift and meet her there on the way home.
Today, her mom was outside when we got to the driveway and came over with a wide grin on her face.
My heart got a strange ache when she came over, because she looks a lot like Zelda—same blonde hair, same delicate curves to her face.
It was like looking into the future, and for once it didn’t make me nervous.
“You must be the mystery man,” she’d said, putting down a gardening tool and coming over. Zelda went scarlet next to me and tried to hide it.
I gave her my best charming grin. “I’m not very mysterious.”
Her eyes darted down over my tattoos, but nothing changed in her face. Good sign or bad? I had no idea.
“Do you have any mystery plans for dinner?” She even had the same smile as Zelda, taken down a few hundred watts.
My aunt usually makes dinner, but I wanted to prove to Zelda that I could fit in with her regular world—that it’s not always cloak and dagger shit and shady neighborhoods. “Not tonight.”
“You should both come!” Zelda’s mom said, and I saw the small smile on Zelda’s face.
“I do have a lot of work,” Zelda sighed.
“Spare us forty-five minutes for dinner, daughter of mine,” her mom said, reaching a hand out to her shoulder. “If you can.”
“Okay.” Then Zelda had looked up at me. “Are you free?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
We’d sat around the table upstairs at her parents’ house for an hour. Zelda’s dad, a quiet guy with gray hair and searching brown eyes, asked quiet questions. I told them about how I was leaving my job in the city and considering coming back to Greenville permanently.
Zelda’s dad had frowned at that. “Zelda’s only a few months out from completing her master’s program.”
“Oh?”
She’d nodded affirmatively off to my right.
“She won’t be staying much longer after that, I don’t suppose.”
Zelda had paused at that, forkful of spaghetti halfway to her mouth. “I won’t?”
“Well, no.” Her dad had let out a little laugh. “You can’t stay here and do anything big career-wise.” He held up both his hands. “I love that new library. I really do. But my Zee can’t waste away there like that Sanders woman. She’s destined for bigger things.”
Zelda had finished the bite, but her eyes were glowing.
Now, curled around her in bed, it comes back to me, the surprised look on her face, the way she didn’t seem to see her dad’s words coming.
My lungs have regained capacity after slow, quiet sex that turned into a little bit of a frenzied fuck there at the end, Zelda’s nails digging into my shoulders.
She sighs in my arms and stretches out under the sheets. “I hope they didn’t hear.”
“I think you were pretty quiet. Plus…” I lean down and kiss her temple. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they put some insulation in during the renovation.”
Zelda grimaces. “No. I can hear everything that goes on upstairs.”
“Well, you were pretty quiet, then.”
She takes another breath in and lets it out. “We’ll need somewhere else to go if you’re—if you’re going to stay.” Those green eyes are on mine, and I’m pulled in, falling, every second, a little harder, a little farther.
“I’m going to stay.”
“You don’t have to, you know.”
“Things are…” What’s the best way to say this? “Things are different now. I need a break from the city. Some time to figure out what the hell I’m going to do.”
“Yeah, I bet.” She bites her lip. “Have you heard from your boss?”
“No.” I frown, but cover it up as fast as I can. “No, I haven’t heard from him at all.”
“Is that a good sign?”
I shrug my shoulders. “Speaking of good signs—you looked pretty happy about what your dad said earlier.”
“About leaving town?” A little grin comes back to her face.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know why I was so surprised by that,” Zelda says, her gaze going off into the distance. “Maybe I was wrong about how they felt all this time.”
“I’m sure they still worry about you. But you’re not—” I laugh. “You’re definitely not a helpless teenager anymore. You make good decisions.”
“Are you a good decision?”
I press my lips against her cheekbone. “Am I really the best person to ask that question?”
“I guess not.” She sighs. “I think you’re a good decision. As long as…”
“As long as what?”
“Look.” She pushes herself up on one elbow so she can look down into my eyes. “This is…pretty new still. I’m the last person who wants to give any kind of ultimatum, or take this too far before—”
“Just so you know, you can’t take this too far.” I trace my finger down the line of her shoulder to her elbow.
“I can’t?” A pink hue comes to Zelda’s cheeks.
“I like what’s happening with us. I like it almost too much.” I grin at her. “I hope you take it a lot farther than this.”
She smiles and my heart expands. “Okay, but…I don’t think it’ll work if you’re planning to go back to the city and…and do that kind of job anymore. It’s not—” She shakes her head, looking down.
“Hey.” When her eyes meet mine again, I’m not smiling. I’m dead serious. “I’m done with that. You don’t have to w—”
I don’t even get the word out before there’s a loud bang at the entrance to the basement, like someone kicking the door in.