CHAPTER 3
ZANE
“Are you fucking crazy? Why did you just let her go?” My voice is filled with disbelief. Charlotte Spancer is not the kind of woman you piss off. I never know what tricks she has up her sleeve, but I do know this: she’s not someone you want to provoke.
She reminds me a bit of my little sister, to be honest—but with deadly fighting skills, of course.
“What did you expect me to do?” Charlie’s tone is sharp, her patience clearly running thin. “You said your work was done. Where do you expect me to keep her?”
"Charlie, you’re the damn doctor.”
"And you’re the guy who ran her over," she shoots back, her words sharp but not unkind.
I step back, not wanting to dive into this. I don’t like talking about the day I met Mia. It was messy, not the kind of memory I like to revisit.
I know I’m being a jerk. But I can’t help it. Mia’s alive, she’s walking. That’s all that matters. My work here is done.
But Charlie—she’s different. She thinks we should keep Mia around a little longer, and for some reason, she thinks it’s on me to take care of her. Because I’m the one who brought Mia to her in the first place.
It wasn’t like I had a choice. Charlie’s the only one I trust to help, and turning to my brother would be worse.
I’m not blind. I know Mia’s probably one of the Cartel’s refugees, and Charlie’s trying to figure out more about her. But I don’t want to get tangled in any of that.
I’m just a tattoo artist. That’s it. No drama, no complications. I’m not the type to play the hero or care for anyone.
And Mia? She’s got this energy about her that makes me uneasy. Something about her just doesn’t sit right.
“I have a trip to Los Angeles scheduled tomorrow. You know that, Charlie,” I reply, trying to keep my voice steady, but her glare could burn through steel.
“You’re telling me that the girl who just woke up from a three-year coma—a coma that you put her in—is lying there completely vulnerable, and you’re thinking about your fucking trip to Los Angeles?”
No. I’m thinking about how eerily similar she is to the woman who’s haunted my dreams for years. Especially now, with her open eyes and the quiet grace with which she faces the world.
But it couldn’t be, right? That woman would be in her late forties by now, and Mia... Mia is young. Younger than me, even. She looks like she’s in her early twenties.
Her eyes, though—those mesmerizing, deadly eyes—make me want to stay as far away from her as possible.
And besides, why should I keep her? She’s alive, isn’t she? Fine, even. It’s not like I wanted to run Mia over; she practically threw herself in front of my car at high speed.
“Yes, it’s a convention for tattoo artists, thanks for asking,” I finally reply, letting sarcasm drip from every word.
I’m not exactly equipped to play babysitter. I can barely take care of myself. The tidiest thing about my life is my studio, and that’s saying a lot.
“Zane!” Charlie snaps, her voice rising. “If you don’t take her with you, I’m calling Kyle.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” I say, my pride stung.
“You know I would.”
“You should keep her,” I argue. “You’re better at this kind of thing than I am.”
“I could keep her,” she says, her tone icy. “And that would just let you avoid taking responsibility for the massive shitstorm you caused.”
“Fine. I’ll take her. But if she causes any trouble, I’m leaving her there.”
“I still need time to evaluate Mia,” Charlie says. “She’s confused and needs help adjusting.”
“Well, maybe you should’ve thought of that before you let her walk out the door.”
“I don’t think Mia is the kind of person you can force into anything, Zane,” she replies, pulling out her phone. A small, satisfied smile creeps across her lips. “She’s not far. She went into a diner. If I were you, I’d run. This isn’t exactly The Society of Crow territory.”
Charlie’s right. Even though the hospital is under the TSOC’s protection, this area isn’t exactly safe. That realization sets me on edge.
My brother would lose it if he knew I was back in Texas…
But I’ll deal with him later.
I make my way to the diner, which is only three minutes from the hospital, and the moment I step inside, irony slaps me in the face.
There’s Mia, and there’s blood.
The blood isn’t hers, of course.
“Mia, what the hell are you doing?” I groan, running my hand over my face, trying to stave off the headache that’s already coming on. This girl... she’s nothing but trouble.
Charlie was right—Mia’s not the type to tolerate being restrained. But, strangely, I’m relieved she seems to like me. Judging by the way the man’s arm is twisted beneath her, bent at an impossible angle, the sense of relief crashes over me like a tidal wave.
That could’ve been me.
I shrug off my hoodie and drape it over her shoulders, shielding her from the prying eyes of the few patrons still in the diner—most of them are probably long gone, running for the door the second the fight broke out.
“Mia,” I say, my voice low but trying to stay steady, “can you come with me?”
She looks up at me, her eyes suspicious, narrowed. “Go with you?”
I nod. “Yes. I can help you. You’re probably hungry, right? That’s why you came here. You don’t need to hurt anyone.”
Her face doesn’t soften. “I didn’t hurt him because of the food.” Her tone is matter-of-fact. “He touched me without my permission. It wasn’t part of the protocol.”
Protocol?
Her words hit me like a slap, sparking something volatile deep inside. I hate violence—but I hate men who think they can put their hands on women without any consequences even more.
I glance at the man writhing on the floor, clutching his mangled arm as it bends in ways it shouldn’t. The sick, unnatural angle is almost beautiful in its brutality.
A small, grim satisfaction bubbles up inside me. She broke his arm. Good.
The man gurgles something through clenched teeth, his voice strained with pain. “You’ll pay for this, you worthless bitch.”
I look around, my eyes landing on a nearby wooden stick, probably left behind by a kid who’d been playing here earlier. I grab it, the weight of it in my hand familiar in an unsettling way.
I step toward him, the stick dangling loosely in my grip as I kneel down next to him. My eyes lock with his, and I smile. It’s not a pleasant smile.
“My friend here says you touched her without her permission. Is that true?” I ask, letting the words hang in the air like a threat.
The man stammers, trying to gather his thoughts. “Well, she grabbed my food—”
“And you think that gives you the right to lay your hands on her?” I ask, my voice growing colder.
“No, man, I didn’t know she was your girl. If I’d known—”
“Oh, so if she wasn’t my girl, you would’ve thought it was okay to touch her? Is that what you’re saying?”
“I—no, I didn’t mean—”
Before he can finish, I swing the stick across his skull. The crack of it landing on his head is sickening, and the man’s scream cuts through the air as his hands fly up to clutch at his skull, blood already pooling in his fingers.
“You listen to me, you piece of shit,” I growl, leaning down so my face is just inches from his. “If you so much as breathe near her again, I’ll make sure you regret it. And next time, you won’t be so lucky.”
I toss the stick aside, the sound of it clattering to the floor almost peaceful in contrast to the chaos. I grab Mia by the wrist, tugging her away from the scene, pulling her through the diner’s door without another word.
I hate violence. But sometimes, violence has a way of finding me
I gesture for Mia to follow me, and she looks at me in surprise before her expression softens into a sweet smile, as though she hadn’t just snapped a guy’s arm in half a few seconds ago.
“Cute,” she mumbles, a faint blush creeping across her cheeks. I blink at her, confused. There’s something off about this girl.
Maybe she’s been through more than I can even imagine, and it’s messing with her head—but I’m not here to judge. The thing is, the way she acts is really throwing me off.
She doesn’t even care that she’s covered in blood. It’s almost like this is just a normal part of her day.
“Mia, we need to get you cleaned up,” I say, trying to keep things calm. “I have a friend in Dallas I need to meet in a few minutes. You can come with me, get cleaned up there.”
“Okay,” she replies, but there’s something strange in her voice. She looks around, her gaze taking in everything like she’s seeing it for the first time—like a curious, wide-eyed child.
I lead her to my truck, and the moment she sees it, she freezes, her entire body tensing. There’s a shift in the air, something like a switch being flipped inside her.
“Before you knock me out, can I look at the sun one more time?” she asks, her voice soft and sweet, but the words throw me off even more.
“Knock you out?”
“Yeah. And then you’re going to take me back to the Cage. For that, I need to be unconscious so I don’t hurt anyone else. I know how it works.” Her tone is steady, almost eerily calm. “You don’t have to lie to me. I’ll go with you. I just want to look at the sun a little longer, okay?”
Something in my chest tightens at her words. The girl who was ready to tear someone apart only moments ago now looks so small, so vulnerable. There’s a void in her eyes that makes my heart ache.
“I have a better idea,” I suggest, trying to shift the mood. “How about this? I drive slowly to my friend’s house. It’s not the Cage—it’s a regular house. You can stay awake, look at the scenery while I drive, and not hurt anyone in the process. How does that sound?”
“So, you’re not going to take me back to the Cage?” she asks, the word sounding foreign in her mouth, like it’s something she can’t quite understand.
“No, Mia. I’m not taking you back there. You’re free from there.”
“Free?” she echoes, sounding puzzled, as if the concept itself is strange to her.
I look at her, my voice soft but firm. “You’re not going back there. I know we just met, but trust me. I won’t hurt you.”
Her smile returns, a small, tentative thing, but it’s enough. “Okay.”
I open the door for her, and she climbs in, still cautious, but now, there’s a spark of trust.
I decide to stay quiet on the way to Carter’s, letting Mia take in everything around her. But she can’t help herself.
The entire drive, she comments on how beautiful the trees are, how nice the wind feels against her skin.
It’s like I’ve taken a little girl to Disneyland for the first time. The awe in her voice is so pure, so unguarded. She’s mesmerized by the simplest things, and it makes me feel guilty for running her over—a tightness in my chest, a feeling of responsibility I wasn’t expecting.
Fuck, I guess I’ll be sticking with this girl after all.
The moment we reach Carter’s house, I notice it’s completely empty, which is odd since we were supposed to meet here in a few minutes. I need to get Mia into proper clothes, though, so I step inside and dial Charlie’s number.
“I need your help again,” I tell her.
She huffs into the phone. “Did she kill someone? If yes, don’t worry, I’ve set up a clean-up team in case that happens.”
“Almost,” I admit. “But that’s not why I’m calling. I actually need some proper clothing for her, maybe some food, and—well, a bit of a female touch. I don’t think I should be alone with her right now.”
“Gosh! You’re really scared of her, aren’t you?”
“It’s not that,” I answer quickly, but deep down, I know it is. “She seems so lost, Charlie. She asked me if she could look at the sun a little longer. I mean, this girl is seriously messed up.”
“I’ll send the clothes and food over,” she says, and I hear her typing something. “As for the company part, sorry, but you’ll have to figure out how to deal with her on your own. She seems to like you, so you’ll be fine.”
“What if she kills me?”
“Well, I’ve got a clean-up team on standby for that, too, so don’t worry. You’ll get a proper funeral,” she says, before hanging up on me.
Fuck.
“I won’t kill you.”
The voice behind me makes me jump, and I turn to find Mia standing there, looking as calm as ever.
“Okay,” I reply, still not really believing her. I mean, I don’t even know this girl. What was I thinking, letting Charlie guilt-trip me into this?
“Zane,” she says, her voice low and smooth. The way she says my name makes my pulse race. She leans in just slightly, a faint smile on her lips. “You asked me to trust you. I did. Now I’m going to need you to trust me back. I won’t hurt you.”
She repeats my words back to me, and for a moment, I’m frozen.
Her voice, soft and unassuming, wraps around my own doubts like a weight I wasn’t prepared for.
It’s the sincerity in it—genuine, without the slightest trace of manipulation—that makes me feel like a total asshole for ever questioning her in the first place. But the truth is, the doubt still lingers, crawling through me like a slow poison. I don't even know how to be around her.
I've spent most of my life alone. Alone in the sense that no one was ever truly there, not in the way a person should be. My mom was a constant, brutal storm—always drunk, always shouting.
I used to be a social butterfly back in high school, but after I left that life behind, everything got quiet. And honestly, I like it that way.
When you grow up surrounded by the constant noise of shouting, slamming doors, and broken glass, silence becomes more than just the absence of sound—it becomes a refuge. A sanctuary you can retreat to when the world outside feels like it’s falling apart.
The stillness is where I can breathe, where I can simply exist without the weight of the world pressing down on me.
Mia, though, is nothing but loud and messy.
The way she exists in the world is foreign to me, unpredictable.
I’m usually good with unpredictable—that’s just how I live.
But this? I don’t know if I’m ready for it.
“You should shower,” I say, trying to sound like I know what I’m doing. But Mia just looks at me, her expression clouded with confusion.
“Okay,” she shrugs.
Before I can explain further, the hospital gown she’s wearing slips off, and just like that, she’s standing before me, exposed, not a single shred of modesty between us.
Fuck. My. Life.
I immediately avert my gaze, hoping my face isn’t a complete disaster of red, but it’s too late. My eyes catch something—just a glimpse—and that damn image is burned into my brain. Her pinky rosy nipples, the delicate curve of her body, and Jesus, this is so fucking wrong. I knew it. I knew it would be like this. I should have seen it coming.
“Mia—” I start, my voice tight, but she interrupts me before I can find any kind of balance.
“You know, you need to look at me in order to bathe me, Zane. Have you ever done that?” she asks, her tone oddly playful, almost like she’s trying to teach me something.
I sigh, frustrated with myself, trying to ignore how this situation has me all twisted up.
I’m about to say something, anything, when the door swings open, and Carter strolls in without a care in the world.
My instinct kicks in before I can think—I move, closing the space between us, shielding Mia with my body. Without hesitation.
“Dude, I told you I wouldn’t be okay with you banging people in my house,” Carter grumbles from the doorway, clearly still half asleep.
“It’s not what you think,” I blurt, my words tumbling out before I can stop them.
“Yeah, he’s helping me shower,” Mia pipes up from behind me, grinning like the sun just rose in her mind. The innocent smile doesn’t sit right, not with the blood staining her skin, and certainly not with the situation she’s got us in.
Carter stares at me, trying to piece things together. It takes him a while to warm up to strangers.
“We should be on the road right now, Zane. Can you lose the girl?” he asks flatly, and I feel a knot twist in my stomach.
“I can’t,” I mutter, not even sure how to explain this.
“What do you mean you can’t?”
“I—I wish I could explain why Mia ended up naked in your house, but even I don’t know,” I start, moving to cover her with a towel. “You. Shower. Alone.”
I point to the door on her left, and after a moment of confusion, Mia just nods and goes with it, like it’s no big deal.
I turn to Carter, who now seems to finally notice the blood covering Mia. His eyes widen in shock, his expression hardening into one of disbelief.
“Do I really want to know why you have a fucking naked girl covered in blood in my house?” he asks, and I wince.
“She’s the coma girl,” I say, and then I take a deep breath, running through the events of my day. The mess, the confusion, Mia’s strange behavior—everything that’s led me here.
Carter’s always been my business partner, the one I can count on for the studio, but I can’t remember the last time we’ve talked about anything deeper than work. Hell, he doesn’t even know the half of my life.
“Fuck,” he mutters, after I finish the rundown.
“I’m still going to LA,” I add quickly, though it sounds more like a concession than a plan. “But I’ll be leaving the day after tomorrow instead of today. I need to set Mia up to travel with me.”
Carter looks at me, eyes narrowing in disbelief. “Are you fucking insane?”
“I don’t have a choice,” I mutter, hoping to sound more certain than I feel. “I can’t say no to Charlie. You know how she is.”
I lie. I could say no. I could stand my ground. But Charlie wants to involve my brother, and that’s one thing I can’t let happen.
Carter sighs, shaking his head. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Zane,” he says, and I don’t reply because there’s nothing left to say.
The truth is, I don’t have it figured out.
I can’t have my family meddling in my life. I’ve spent years building this—being this—on my own. I don’t intend to change that now. But deep down, I know this is a mess. And I’m the one who walked right into it.