48. Zayne
CHAPTER 48
Zayne
I ’m shirtless in front of the fire in my living room, sipping bourbon. The past has infiltrated every space inside my head, leaving no room for anything else.
For the first time in fifteen years, I allow myself to feel every bit of the memories and pain.
With a sigh, I grab my laptop from the stand beside me. I throw my legs on the ottoman and pull up the file on Delaney, wincing as I view the images of her injuries.
Jesus. She was so young.
I have so many questions, and the only one who can provide the answers is her.
Uneasiness trails through me as I picture her in that cabin, alone in the woods. Despite our cameras, it’s not safe for her there.
What would she do if someone broke in?
Jaxson would cut my balls off with a dull butter knife if he knew I was lurking around the cabin Delaney’s renting.
Delaney has been in the cabin in the woods for four days. So far, her father and his minions seem to be leaving her alone, but I’m not taking any chances.
Standing in the shadows behind some trees, I suck in a breath as she undresses, shedding her clothing piece by piece until she stands there, gloriously naked.
Fuuuucck. She’s perfect.
Her body has changed, her breasts and hips fuller than when she was eighteen and belonged to me.
If she would’ve been honest and told me her father was abusing her, I would have gotten her out of that fucking house. The secrets drove us apart. But it won’t be long until I pry the ugly truths from her.
She climbs into the tub, and I see an opportunity. Beneath the cover of darkness, I head to the patio doors and slip inside. Sneaking up the stairs, I peek around her doorway, ensuring she’s not paying attention, and then I slip inside her bedroom.
A grin splits my face when a Sleep Token song starts playing, and she sings along. She still has excellent taste in music.
Heading to the laptop on the desk, I type in her password, which was too easy for me to figure out. I shake my head as she continues singing, using the flash drive to install what I need. Now I’ll know every time she uses it.
I stand, getting ready to leave, when her cell phone rings.
Shit . My gaze darts around the room before I crawl beneath the bed.
“Hi, Callie. I just got out of the bathtub. Can I call you back in a few minutes?” She’s quiet for a moment before she says, “Sounds great. I’ll talk to you soon.”
Ensuring the volume on my phone is off, I lie on my stomach, watching her dry off, and then comb her hair through the cameras on my phone. I hold my breath when her bare feet pad into the bedroom, close to where I lie. I bite my lip to stifle the groan when she opens her dresser, pulls out a thong, and steps into it.
Her footsteps move away, heading to the closet.
I exhale the breath I’d been holding, listening to the hangers squeaking as she sorts through her clothing. Then her feet head my way. The bed shifts as she climbs onto the mattress.
Oh, fuck me. She’s so close the scent of her body wash infiltrates my nose. I breathe it in, holding it in my lungs. The only part of her I have right now.
Despite lying on my stomach, my dick hardens, pressing against the damn floor. It’s uncomfortable, but I can’t just roll out from beneath the bed.
Focus on something else to make it go away.
But I can’t. My body is acutely aware of her presence, and my mind won’t stop whirling with images of her naked body.
Jaxson, the jackass that he is, was right when he said I have a type, and every one of them resembled Delaney. What he doesn’t realize is my tastes are particular. While he saw a brunette with green eyes, I saw the same shade of hair as Delaney had or the same vibrant green eyes. Sometimes, it was the way the woman smiled that reminded me of her.
I never said the woman’s name during sex because I was too afraid I’d call out Delaney’s name. I stuck with the standard endearments if I said anything to them.
I have a few specific rules I never break.
Rule # 1: I never kiss them on the mouth.
Rule # 2: I never take a woman home with me. Ever. I don’t want them to get attached and think they have a chance with me.
Rule # 3: I alway s use a condom.
Delaney’s phone rings and the bed creaks as she adjusts her position. I’d give anything to watch her right now.
I hear her ask how her “kids” are doing. She’s quiet, except for the occasional sniffing. “I miss them. Even though they can be little brats.”
She’s quiet again for a few beats before I hear her say, “I’m fine. I’m just being sentimental.” Delaney blows out a breath. “Okay, tell me the latest school gossip. Leave nothing out.”
I lie there, taking it all in.
From my research, or “spying,” as Jaxson calls it, I know she went to college for her bachelor’s in education. She started teaching third grade at Mountain View Elementary School. A few years later, after completing her master’s degree, she was hired to teach fifth graders.
I lie on my stomach beneath her bed, listening to her conversation with Callie. The two were close in high school, but now, their friendship rivals the one I share with Jaxson.
It warms my heart, sending me catapulting back to the past. To better days that I want to forget yet relish in, letting them chip away at my cold, barren soul and the splintered pieces of my broken heart.
Her voice takes me back to the past, the best and worst days of my life. I let the denial wash over me, pretending she’s mine again. Memories of her being my first, innocent love before our hearts were broken, lives torn apart, and souls tainted in darkness.
Will we ever be able to go back there again? To reclaim the trust and love that we once shared.
Like cold water being dumped over my head, the pain washes over me, sucking the air from my lungs. She omitted the truth, keeping her home life shrouded in secrecy. Not only that, but I’m nowhere closer to figuring out if she had anything to do with the attack on me and my father’s subsequent arrest.
“I miss you, too. We’ll talk again tomorrow. Love you, Callie.”
She sighs as she sets her phone on the nightstand. The TV turns on, and the bed shifts as she gets comfortable.
I’m uncomfortable as hell on this damn floor, wearing this fucking Michael Myers mask, hoping like hell she goes to sleep soon.
When I hear her deep, even breathing, I slowly crawl from beneath the bed. My head lifts to find her bathed in the light from the TV, flat on her back with the comforter and blanket pulled to her chin. Her long lashes rest on her cheeks, her lips slightly parted as she sleeps.
I climb to my feet, working out the kinks in my body from lying still on the floor.
She whimpers, and I freeze.
“No.” Her head moves back and forth on the pillow, her fingers curling tighter around the blanket. “You can’t keep me from him.”
I freeze, my heart banging in my chest. Every muscle in my body tenses as I wonder who she’s dreaming of.
“No.” She kicks her legs slightly. “Oh, God, Zayne. Please forgive me.”
It’s like an iron fist squeezing my heart as I stare down at the agony on her face. Her knuckles are white as her head thrashes back and forth.
“I’m a monster. I left him.” Her lip wobbles. “I shouldn’t have left him.”
I don’t know what possesses me to do it, especially since it’s so risky. But I lean over her prone form, my finger barely grazing her face. She stills, her lips parting and her tongue darting out, touching my thumb. “It’s okay, minx. We’ll get past this.”
As if she hears and understands me, a soft sigh comes from her lips before they curl into a soft smile.
I pull my hand away, knowing I need to leave. “I’ll be back.”
Before I have second thoughts, I hurry out the door and quietly move down the stairs. I turn on my phone's flashlight as I head down the stairs, keeping it pointed at my feet so I don’t trip, knowing the light from this angle won’t shine upstairs and wake her.
As I walk through the living room, something falls and hits the floor. I cover the flashlight with my hand, waiting with bated breath for Delaney’s scared voice to float down the stairs or for her feet to pad across the floor to the staircase.
When neither happens, I relax my tense muscles and move my light toward whatever fell on the floor. A folder lies near the bookcase.
I walk over to it, stooping down to gather the contents, but freeze when I see the photos. Shock courses through me as I stare at pictures of Delaney and me.
I lift the first one, examining it. It’s a picture of us when we were seniors in high school. The love on our faces as we stare at one another is evident.
Examining picture after picture, memories and confusion wash over me. I didn’t take these photos, and neither did Delaney.
Which means someone was following us and knew about our secret affair. I suspect this same person used these photos to blackmail her into doing something.
I place them inside the folder, my thoughts in turmoil. Instead of putting them back, I stand, tucking them beneath my arm. Turning off the alarm and unlocking the door, I head out, then lock and arm it again.
As I walk away, I ensure her house is secure before I hurry through the woods to my truck, my thoughts spinning as I go.
My head tilts to the moon and stars, so close to the lake where Delaney and I danced on prom night and had sex in the bed of my truck. Many of the pictures inside the folder were taken there.
It’s time I unravel the secrets of the past and rain vengeance down on my enemies.