CHAPTER 14
MIA
Zane decided to stay the night, probably worried my father might come back and try something. I doubt it, though. My father’s the type to get bored quickly.
But still, he stayed.
It’s funny in a way. Not that he could actually do anything if my father decided to kill us both. But I find it cute, the way Zane tries to protect me. So I let him.
Plus, I like the feeling of not being alone for once.
It’s strange being in the same house as Zane and not in the same bed. I’ve been sleeping alone for a while now, and as lonely as it is, I’ve gotten used to it. But now that he’s here, breathing the same air as me, it feels wrong that we’re still in separate rooms.
My body knows it. It’s restless, tossing and turning.
The pillow’s never comfortable enough, the sheets always too warm. My skin misses his before my mind even catches up.
I sigh and throw the covers off, already knowing I won’t be able to sleep. My feet hit the cold floor as I walk to the door. The house is too quiet, too dark, too big.
I stop in front of his room, hesitating. I shouldn’t be here. But what if he’s having a nightmare? What if he’s tangled in the sheets, his face all twisted, that tense expression that haunts me?
I bite my lip, then slide the door open slowly, not wanting to make any noise. I just need to see him. That’s all. I’ll be back in a minute.
The door’s cracked open, a sliver of blue light escaping. His phone’s on, a faint glow illuminating the furniture around his bed. My heart races for reasons I can’t explain.
Maybe it’s the silence of the house. Maybe it’s the fact that we haven’t slept in the same place for almost a month. Now that he’s here, it feels wrong that we’re in different rooms.
But maybe he’s having a nightmare. I need to see.
Or maybe I just want to be close to him.
I slip inside, barely breathing.
He’s lying on his side, the sheets twisted around his waist, his bare skin glistening with a thin layer of sweat.
His brow’s furrowed, his breathing shallow and quick. His arm shakes slightly, like he’s trying to push something away in his dream.
My chest tightens. God, why did I think that?
His body jerks, and he mumbles something I can’t make out.
He’s definitely having a nightmare.
Sweat beads on his face, his expression pained, as if he’s trapped in something dark.
“Zane?” My voice is soft, hesitant, and I kneel next to the bed, close enough to feel his warmth.
He stirs, as if waking up, but only rolls onto his back, mumbling something incoherent. I reach out, my hand brushing his arm. His muscles tense under my touch.
“Zane, it’s me.”
He wakes up with a sharp gasp, his dark eyes snapping open, darting around the room before they settle on me. For a second, he doesn’t seem to recognize me. Then his expression shifts, his brow knitting in irritation.
“What are you doing here?” His voice is hoarse, thick with sleep and exhaustion.
My stomach sinks. Of course he doesn’t want me here. I knew it. I always knew it.
“You were having a nightmare.”
He stares at me for a long, heavy moment before looking away. He sits up on the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees. His shoulders are stiff, his breaths deep and uneven. After a few moments, he exhales a long, weary sigh.
“That’s what’s been happening lately. The nightmares.”
“About what?”
He runs a hand through his hair, and for a moment, I think he won’t answer. Then he speaks, his voice quiet, reluctant.
“My past.”
My heart stumbles.
“Talk to me.”
He nods but still won’t meet my gaze.
“I know Rachel Wayne. She used to be the nurse at my school, when I was in middle school, up until I graduated. I don’t even know how she ended up in the Mafia.”
“I thought your school was full of Mafia leaders.”
“It was, but it’s a selective thing. Not all students are involved in that world. And the teachers weren’t exactly a hidden group, they were a secret society, you know?”
“I get it, but Zane, Rachel Wayne was always around my father.” I murmur, the thought of her makes me sick. She was the one who gave me the sedatives, the same woman who treated me like a lab rat. Always cruel, always controlling. One day, I bit her. I’m sure that didn’t go over well.
“She didn’t recognize me,” Zane murmurs, and I catch something raw in his voice, something vulnerable.
“Zane...”
“I was in middle school. It was dodgeball class. Abby hit me by accident, and I ended up in the nurse’s office. She started talking about this boy I kissed, about how wrong it was, then she gave me some medicine. When I woke up, she told me she’d ‘fixed’ me. But I felt… dirty. Violated. I knew what she had done, but I had no way to prove it. And I knew no one would believe me. Or believe that I didn’t want it. I thought about telling my mom, but when I got home, she was sleeping with one of her boyfriends… not even caring that I was watching.”
He lets out a bitter laugh. “How fucked up is that?”
“Very, Zane. That’s fucked up.”
“It doesn’t compare to what you’ve been through.”
“Stop comparing pains.” I say, my voice gentle but firm. “Your pain is yours, Zane. My past doesn’t diminish yours.”
And tomorrow, I’m going to kill that bitch.
“It’s hard when you don’t share yours with me, Mia.”
“My pain?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper. “Well, I’m terrified that my dad will retaliate for what happened today. I see James sometimes, and my thoughts get so tangled. He made me believe that everything I went through was ‘love,’ that all the pain meant nothing because it was all part of this twisted ‘new love.’ And now, I don’t know how to react to people. I grew up being abused by people who were supposed to protect me, and my brain decided to escape. Sometimes, I don’t even know how to act.”
“It’s not about how to act, it’s about this. You’re talking about your feelings. That’s a good thing.”
“I like doing this with you. Talking. Because I know you really care.”
“I care,” he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper.
“He said he loved me, but he was just manipulating me.”
“I understand that feeling, Mia,” Zane whispers, his breath hot against my skin. “The worst abusers are the ones who wrap you in soft promises, weaving invisible chains around your heart until you mistake control for care, imprisonment for love.”
Yes, exactly. He understands me. Zane understands me like no one else. It’s bizarre—how we function as if we’re made of the same material, even though we’re nothing alike. Different in every way, yet it feels like we're two halves of the same broken whole.
“The nightmares started as soon as you left.”
My chest tightens. I know he’s talking about the time we spent apart. In his mind, it was abandonment.
“But I came back.” My voice comes out soft, fragile. “Or rather, you made a point of coming after me.”
He doesn’t answer.
He just stands there in the darkness, the blue light casting jagged shadows across his tired face. His stillness hurts. I want to reach for him, to close the space between us. I need to.
“I’m fucked up in my head, Mia.” His voice breaks in a way that makes my heart twist. “It took me a year just to touch you. But now... now that I have, it’s like I need this. I need you to pull me out of the dark, out of whatever hell my mind has sunk into. I need you like I need to breathe, sweet chaos.”
"I..." My throat tightens, words dying on my lips. "I just wanted to..."
My fingers brush his skin—tentative, a touch so light it feels like a spark.
He doesn't pull away. Doesn’t move. Just watches me with that haunted look, like he's afraid if he blinks, I’ll disappear.
I climb slowly onto the bed. The space between us buzzes with tension. His body is rigid, taut like a wire about to snap, but he lets me in. That alone is a miracle.
“Mia...” he breathes, and there’s something wrecked in his voice.
“Let me stay,” I whisper, almost begging. “Just for a little while.”
“You don’t need to ask,” he says, voice hoarse. “You live in me now. It’s already permanent.”
I move closer. I can feel the heat rolling off his body, the tension humming between us like static. My hands slide over his shoulders, trembling, searching. When I reach the back of his neck, he exhales—shaky, like he’s barely holding himself together.
And then—his hands are on my waist. Uncertain. Searching. As if he’s still afraid to need something this much.
I hold still. And wait.
Then he pulls me into his lap, and I feel him—hard, straining against the fabric of his shorts, no boxers. My core clenches, already aching, already soaked with want. I rock my hips gently, dragging wet heat over him. His breath stutters, mouth parting with a gasp.
“Fuck,” he mutters, like he’s dying. “You don’t know what you do to me, do you?”
My panties are soaked. I grind against him, desperate for friction, and he growls low in his throat. Then his fingers hook under the lace, dragging it to the side, exposing me to the thick pressure of his cock.
He grips my hips tighter, thumbs pressing bruises into my skin.
“Every second you’re not around, I can’t fucking breathe,” he groans. “I need to be inside you, Mia. I need to feel you. Not just your skin—you.”
“Zane…” I whisper, dizzy with want.
“You drive me insane,” he rasps, hips thrusting up, cock rubbing against my slick folds. “I can’t fucking sleep, can’t think without this. Without you. I’m not okay unless I’m buried inside you.”
I moan, and his mouth crashes into mine, desperate, messy, teeth clashing. He kisses me like he’s starving, like I’m the only thing that can keep him alive. His big hand wraps around my throat, firm but reverent, grounding me there. Holding me like I’m the only real thing in his world.
“I swear, I could die like this,” he groans into my mouth. “Just like this. Fucking losing myself in you.”
And then, without warning, he thrusts into me—deep, thick, stretching me open. I cry out, clutching at his shoulders, nails sinking into his skin.
“Fuck—Mia—you feel like heaven,” he chokes. “So tight. So fucking warm. I could stay here forever. Never leave. Just live in you.”
I ride him slowly at first, savoring the stretch, the drag of him inside me. But it builds fast. The need, the desperation. It takes over.
“I want all of you,” I breathe, rocking harder, messier. “I want you everywhere.”
“You have me,” he growls, slamming into me from underneath, eyes wild. “Every fucked up, broken piece of me belongs to you.”
His hand tightens on my throat, the other gripping my ass, guiding me down harder as he thrusts up, matching my pace, chasing that release like it’s the only thing keeping him alive.
“You’re gonna come for me,” he pants. “I wanna feel you break around me. Wanna feel you lose it. Come on, baby. Let me have it. Give me everything.”
“Zane—” My voice cracks, body trembling.
“That’s it,” he whispers. “Fuck, you feel so good. So good I’m losing my fucking mind.”
We crash into climax together — his name a scream on my lips, mine a growl in his throat. He spills inside me with a groan that sounds more like a prayer. His cock twitches deep, filling me with heat, and I clench around him, milking every last drop.
I don’t move. Can’t.
His arms come around me, tight, possessive, desperate.
He buries his face in my neck. Breathes me in.
And for a moment — just a moment — it feels like everything broken between us isn’t beyond repair.