28. 28 - Zella
“Y our clothes have arrived.”
I glance up at Maverick’s words. He’s been quiet through dinner, almost distant, but his words send a thrill of excitement through my stomach. “They have?”
I’d almost forgotten, but I’m tired of wearing these dresses. And as much as I enjoy wearing a combination of the guy’s clothes, it’ll be nice to have something of my own to wear.
He smiles, but it’s distant. “They have. I’ll bring them to your room after dinner, and you can try them on.”
Trying to hide my frown, I nod and stare back down at my plate.
I wish Ryder was here, but he’s out this evening, working.
My throat tightens. He promised there was nothing for me to worry about, but how can I not?
I sneak a glance at Maverick, but he’s staring out of the window, his lips pursed.
“Maverick?” His name slips out almost before I’m ready, and he glances at me. His eyes seem especially pale today, much paler than the color I gave them when I was sketching this afternoon. I’ve nearly worked my way through the pens Enzo bought already.
“Yes, Zella?” he prompts, and I focus.
“Sorry.” I can’t meet his eyes, so I stare down at my plate again, my emotions churning in my chest.
It’s been a few days since Ryder told me about his story, and the unfairness of it has burrowed into my chest. On top of that, Enzo has disappeared, not coming to meals, and Maverick has been cooler too.
“Zella,” he says my name again, and this time, he’s completely focused on me when I look up hesitantly. “What’s wrong?”
“You can’t let Ryder do that any more,” I blurt out. As soon as I say it, I want to kick myself. But the anger simmering inside me isn’t going away.
“I’m sorry?” He looks confused, but I plough on.
“Please,” I ask quietly. “Don’t make him… have sex. For work, I mean. Surely there must be other ways?”
When I dare to look up, Maverick is frozen. His throat flexes as he swallows.
“Ryder told you that I make him… have sex? For his work?”
He sounds horrified, and a flicker of doubt appears in my chest. “You don’t?”
“Zella.” Maverick gets up, moving over to me. I flinch, but he kneels in front of me, turning my chair around. His finger lifts up my chin.
“Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?” he asks softly. My nod is hesitant, and he sighs.
“Ryder,” he says, and it’s almost a groan. “Sweetheart, I swear to you that I do not ask Ryder to have sex as part of his work. He’s always seen it as something he’s good at, something he can do, so he’s done it – even when I have begged him not to.”
My mouth rounds. “O-oh.”
Maverick surveys me, and I shrink back, embarrassment heating my insides. He looks… tired.
This is why I shouldn’t get involved.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m really sorry, Maverick. He told me about his background, and I just thought…”
“I can imagine,” he says heavily. “Self-flagellation is one of his many talents. I promise you, Zella, it’s not something he has to do. I would never force either of them to do something they didn’t want to do. Ryder has always believed he doesn’t have anything else worth giving, and he is wrong.”
I nod. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No,” he says quietly. “You should. I wondered what I had done wrong, to make you look at me the way you have.”
I pick at the end of my dress. “I just… it didn’t match up with what I thought of you. And then I realized that I don’t know much at all, and it just… got to me.”
I’m dreading his reaction, but when I look at him, he’s smiling.
“I’m relieved,” he says before I can question him. “I thought maybe… maybe you’d changed your mind about being here. I didn’t want to push you, so I stayed away rather than force myself on you.”
I flush. “Oh. No, I haven’t. Changed my mind, I mean.”
“I’m very glad to hear it,” he says softly. “I missed having you next to me at meals.”
I don’t have to force the smile that blooms, relief filling me that the only issue here is my own stupid assumptions. “I missed you next to me, too.”
“Well, we can rectify that.” A gasp catches in my throat as he scoops me up, and I blow it out when I’m settled in his lap. He stares down at me, a smile curving his lips. “Much better.”
“I feel like a parcel,” I say lightly, but I’m fighting back a stupid giggle. “I do have legs, you know.”
“I know,” he says, reaching out and picking up a roasted carrot with his fork. He lifts it to my lips, and I take it, wrapping my lips around the tines. “But I very much enjoy taking care of you, Zella.”
I swallow down the food before I respond. “It seems like you take care of everyone. Me. Ryder. Enzo.”
When I mention Enzo’s name, the brightness in his gaze dims. “I suppose so. Just the way things worked out.”
“Will you tell me? Not about their stories,” I say hastily when he looks hesitant. “But about you. Your story. Ryder said you worked with your dad?”
“I did.” He offers me some more food, and I take it. Everything tastes better when he feeds it to me. “My dad worked in law enforcement for years. He was a well-respected senior cop, and then he moved to the FBI. He retired early, but he got bored, so he set up an investigative agency.”
“And you helped?” I ask. I try to imagine a little Maverick, toddling after his dad, and the image makes me grin. He’s such a giant, the image of him smaller than anyone is hard to imagine.
“I did. Never wanted to do anything else,” he admits ruefully. “My dad taught me everything he knew. I did join the force for a few years to get some field experience, but I ended up back where I started. Too many rules there. We’re a little more… flexible, in how we do things.”
“And that’s how you met Ryder and Enzo.”
He nods. “I knew I couldn’t leave them where they were. They both deserved better than the shitty hand they were dealt in life, and I could help with that.”
“You’re a good person,” I say, and he snorts.
“I believe good people deserve good things, and bad people deserve everything bad,” he says quietly. “Life isn’t always fair, but we try to even out the scales a little. It’s why I left the police. Too many bad people getting away with it, and too many of the good ones losing out.”
I sigh. “The world seems like an awfully complicated place.”
He laughs. “It is. I’m sorry you haven’t seen a lot of it yet, but I’m conscious that Moore is still around.”
I nod. It makes sense. “After so many years, this feels like a lot of freedom to me.”
Maverick frowns. “I don’t want to overwhelm you, but I promise things will change. In fact… there’s a street fair next week in the city. Maybe you’d like to come? If all of us go, we can take turns keeping an eye out. I think you’d enjoy it.”
My hands start to tremble. A street fair.
“Do you mean it?” I ask him eagerly, and he laughs, a low rumble that I can feel against my side.
“I never say anything I don’t mean,” he says, and I grin, the smile stretching from ear to ear.
“I’d love to go,” I tell him earnestly. “With all of you.”
“Good.”
He continues feeding me in silence, until I begin to fidget. “Where’s Enzo?” I ask, and he looks away from me.
“He’s busy, Zella,” Maverick says gently. “He won’t be around much for the next day or so.”
The high of anticipation fades beneath disappointment, but I swallow it back down. “Okay.”
I slide off Maverick’s lap. His arms tighten before he lets go, almost as if he’s reluctant. “Where are you going?”
I shrug. “I think I’ll get an early night. See you tomorrow?”
He nods, his blue eyes examining my face a little more closely than I’d like, so I offer him a quick smile and sidle out of the room.
The hallway has darkened in the time we’ve spent at dinner, and I jump as I catch a pale glimpse of my own reflection in the ornate mirror. Hurrying past it, I’m lost in my own thoughts when something jars me.
Frowning, I look around at the strange noise. A moment later, it comes again.
A low, groaning sound echoes, and I stop where I am, swiveling on my heel and looking up and down the hallway.
It doesn’t sound right. The hairs stand up on the back of my neck, and I debate going back to the dining room. But then I hear it again, and my eyes are drawn to the dungeon door.
It’s ajar, the edge balancing against the frame, and I take a step as the sound comes once more, this time deeper and more agitated.
“Enzo?” I whisper, but I don’t hear anything else.
What if he’s hurt himself?
My head turns back to the dining room. I should go and tell Maverick.
But then you won’t know what’s going on.
Maverick’s caginess, Enzo’s absence. Something is going on.
Curiosity overtakes me, and I reach for the handle.
Just a little peek, I reason. Just enough to make sure that he’s alright, and then I’ll leave him alone until he’s ready to talk.
The handle opens smoothly under my touch, and I pull the door open silently, staring down.
The stairwell is pitch black, but I can see a small flicker of light just beyond the turn in the stairs.
Gingerly, I place my feet down on the cool concrete, pausing when the groan travels up.
It sounds worse this time, and my feet move, taking me around the corner.
The weight of trepidation settles in my stomach as I descend, and I let out a relieved breath when I hear the low murmur of Enzo’s voice.
He's fine. Nothing to be worried about.
I’ll just take one peek and sneak out. Just enough to reassure myself. He won’t even know.
My nose twitches as my foot reaches the bottom step, my mouth twisting in distaste. It smells funny down here, almost metallic. I don’t know how Enzo can stand it.
Bracing myself, I peek around the corner.
But as my eyes settle on the reason Enzo’s been hiding away, fear hits me like sharp, jagged shards of glass fluttering inside my chest.
He looks up, dark eyes locking on mine.
Not a single star to be seen.
And underneath him, on the table he tied me to, is… something unrecognizable.