Chapter Four
Gage
I ’m not even fully awake, but I kiss Zarah on the forehead and roll out of her bed. It’s barely seven o’clock, but my cell phone buzzing near my ear like an annoying mosquito woke me up, and because of all the shit I have to do today, I wouldn’t have been able to go back to sleep no matter how hard I tried. I have a lot on my mind, and only sheer exhaustion helped me fall asleep.
“Where are you going?” Her eyes crack open, and frown lines wrinkle the perfect skin between her eyebrows.
We hardly scratched the surface of what we need to say to each other, but I try to reassure her. “I have a lot of work to do. Go back to sleep and I’ll see you later this afternoon. We’ll eat lunch and take a nap, okay, sweetheart?”
“We’re not okay yet,” she says, her voice meek and scared.
“Do you love me, Zarah?” I ask, smoothing the hair away from her face.
“Yes.”
“Then we’re okay. To me, everything else is cake.”
She presses a kiss to my palm and closes her eyes, too tired to stay awake after what happened last night. Trust me, I would have given anything to stay in bed and wrap my body around hers, but when Zane Maddox calls, you answer, I don’t care who you are.
My truck is parked in the parking garage across the street, and the heater is barely spitting out warm air by the time I find a space in the Crowne’s crowded parking lot. The sky is a murky grey, the sun struggling behind a thick layer of clouds.
I walk through the lobby, the elegant cream and gold marble floor sparkling under a huge chandelier, and a tired-looking woman is sitting behind the reception desk. “Can I help you?”
“I’m here to see Zane Maddox.”
“Are you Gage Davenport?”
I nod.
“He told me to direct you to a conference room on the east side of the building. Walk through the solarium and turn right down the hallway. The conference room is 107. He’s waiting for you there.”
“Thanks.”
Baby sniffs at the plants forced to stay alive during the winter months, and I hurry her along, whistling softly. The woman’s directions were clear, and I find the conference room without trouble. The scents of bacon, eggs, and coffee permeate the air. I knock once and push the door open.
To my surprise, he’s not wearing a suit, but lounging pants and a t-shirt, reading the paper. Meeting my gaze, he says, “Thanks for coming by.” He pours me a mug of coffee, and I sit and steal a piece of bacon off a breakfast platter positioned in the center of the table. I’m not hungry—it’s too early to think about food—but Baby enjoys it, gulping the piece down in two swallows.
“What’s this about?”
“Stella’s still sleeping, and I wanted to compare notes. This is supposed to be a honeymoon of sorts, and I promised her I would let you take care of Zarah while we try to enjoy a little peace and quiet.”
“I’ll do what I can. She has more faith in me than she should.”
“She had more faith in me than she should have, too, and look where that got her.” Zane’s lips quirk in self-deprecation.
“You’re not so bad.”
“I keep fucking up, so I would question your opinion.”
“No one could have known Zarah would go downstairs, and no one would have suspected that Black would send some psycho after her.”
“We didn’t suspect jack shit, but we should have known , dammit.”
I feed Baby another piece of bacon and chug half my coffee steaming in the large mug. Christ, do I need the caffeine. “Zarah’s headstrong and does what she wants, just like every other female I’ve ever known. She’ll put herself in danger again, that’s a given. No use beating yourself up about it.”
“What have you found out about Ingrid?” he asks, changing the subject. He doesn’t want to hear about Zarah getting into more trouble. That’s fine. Now that she understands how much she loves me and how much I love her, maybe we can avoid more situations like last night.
“Pop and I went over the warehouse. Baby nosed out a Patek Philippe watch. Track that down and maybe we’ll get a bead on what’s going on there.”
He grunts in surprise. “Those are registered with the company upon purchase. Finding out who the owner is will be easy enough. You didn’t give it to the police?”
“No, not yet.”
“Good. We’ll puzzle this out on our own.”
“This isn’t what Pop and I normally catch for a case,” I say. “We’re in over our heads.”
Zane pauses and sips his coffee. “I understand, but that’s exactly why we should keep this to ourselves for now. The list of who we can trust is short.”
I can’t disagree. “Okay. For now.”
“Is there anything else?”
There’s a lot I could dump on Zane. Jerricka Solis and her filthy accusations, what Zarah means to me, even after she dumped me. That I could have knocked her up and we’re waiting to find out if that’s true or not. Lots of things that on the outside don’t seem to be his business, but in reality, are more his business than mine.
I hesitate, and he narrows his eyes at me, but I say, “No.”
He nods. “Okay. I have one other thing, then I’m going upstairs.” He leans over and drags a black leather briefcase onto the table. Flipping the locks open, he says, “The sale went through yesterday, no resistance. I paid more than what the building’s worth. Ten point five million dollars.” Zane slides a piece of paper over the table, a Mont Blanc lying on top. I know the brand from paging through GQ ...and from seeing one on Rourke’s desk. “It was your idea to purchase Quiet Meadows, and I signed it over to you and Zarah.”
I frown, the legalese swirling around on the paper. “I don’t want it.”
“Nor do I. It was your idea that I buy it, and a good one. Think of it as an investment.”
“I want to tear it down, not invest.”
“Then do that. The building sits on a hundred acres of land. Zarah has money. Build whatever you want. After all this, the land is worth more than the facility.”
“You seem to think Zarah and I are going to stay together.”
“I know you will. You look at my sister the way I look at Stella.” He offers me the pen.
I uncap the silver and grey pen and scrawl my name on the bottom of the page. “That’s smooth.”
“It fucking better be. It’s a thousand-dollar pen.” He laughs. “Christ. You should see your face. You’ll be good for my sister, I have no doubts about that. Go home, or back to the penthouse. You look like shit.”
“Feel like it, too, but I have some things I need to scratch off my list.” I pause and feed Baby another piece of bacon. “She said she has a trip planned, but she was making noises about staying in King’s Crossing. Encourage her to still go.”
Zane lifts an eyebrow as he stores the paper in his briefcase. “Because she’s safer out of the city?”
“Maybe. She dumped me to do her own thing. We’re not back together, I mean, I guess we are, but you were right. We went too fast. I don’t want to make the same mistake twice.”
“Giving a woman space is a double-edged sword. You think you’re giving them what they want, and they think you don’t want them anymore. I went through that when Stella was in Florida getting to know her parents. I didn’t want to interfere, but there was nothing I wanted more than to hear her say she was coming home.”
“That about sums it up.”
“Zarah leaves the day after tomorrow. If you’re on solid ground, she’ll feel better about going.”
“You’re a manipulative son of a bitch,” I grouse, hefting to my feet.
“Sure. And I always get what I want. Thanks again for stopping by. Feed Baby the rest of the bacon. She deserves it.”
Zane clicks his briefcase closed and slips out the door, and I’m left alone with nothing but a platter of breakfast, a carafe of coffee, today’s newspaper, and a fucked-up heart.
A hot shower and more coffee go a long way. I feel almost human, and when Mom calls, I actually answer, tacking on a “Good morning.” Lately I’ve been surly, downright unfriendly, and I think she’s going to faint.
“Gage. How are you, darling? I haven’t heard from you since New Year’s Eve! You didn’t call to tell me you were okay. It’s unacceptable I heard about your truck exploding on the evening news! For goodness’ sakes. Reporters calling here, asking why you and Zarah Maddox broke up—like I have any idea—and I see on Truth or Dare you carrying on with a redhead I’ve never met.”
Her tirade goes on and I regret I answered, but she’s still my mother, I still have Max’s apartment to pack up, and she said she’d help. It will be the perfect project to keep my mind off the fact that while Zarah’s in California, I’ll be stuck in the frozen tundra that’s Minnesota.
“I’m sorry. I’ve been really busy.”
“Too busy to tell the woman who gave birth to you that you’re all right after someone tries to kill you.”
“I’ve had other things on my mind, like figuring out who did it. Besides, it’s not like it hasn’t happened before.”
The last part doesn’t faze her. “And have you? After what happened to Max, I can’t believe your father didn’t at least get in touch and tell me you weren’t hurt.” She quiets. “Is he seeing someone?”
I frown. What would she care? “Not that I’m aware of.”
“Well, you would know.”
Not necessarily, but I don’t tell her that, not wanting to keep her going on the subject. If Pop brings home a lady friend, it’s none of my business.
“He hasn’t said anything. How have you been?”
“Fine, fine. Rourke’s in DC, you know, doing his thing. I’ll be flying out in a couple of weeks to attend a gala at the White House.”
“That’s great.” And sounds like nothing I want to be a part of.
“I was calling to see if you still wanted help cleaning out Max’s apartment. It would mean a lot to me, and of course, I’ll reimburse you for the rent you’ve been paying. Really, Gage, it’s not like you to stick your head in the sand when it comes to things like this.”
“I know.” I already went into why I did, and I’m not going to repeat myself. “I would love the help. In fact, let’s plan to do it this weekend, okay? I already have some boxes in his apartment, but I’ll buy more. I rented a storage unit and that’s an option if we find things we don’t know what to do with.”
“That sounds perfect.” She stops, and I can feel the maternal worry ooze through the phone. “You and Zarah. You’re not seeing her anymore?”
“It’s complicated, Mom.”
She laughs. “She’s a billionaire heiress. Of course it’s going to be complicated. Rourke’s and my courtship was certainly bumpy. You don’t marry that kind of money and expect smooth sailing, but love will prevail.”
“Speaking of money, did you know Rourke owned Quiet Meadows?”
She tsks . “I don’t concern myself with things like that. If he owns that facility, it must have been a lucrative investment. Healthcare is a billion-dollar industry. I do know he’s looking into buying more stock in pharmaceutical. Normally, I wouldn’t be interested, but I overheard him talking about it not long ago. Dr. Stephen Mallory is making great strides in dementia and Alzheimer’s research. Could you imagine if they cured Alzheimer’s? What a fortune a private drug company could make?”
I do know, and the idea turns my stomach. A treatment for Alzheimer’s wouldn’t be available to anyone who couldn’t pay or whose insurance deemed it unnecessary. Only the richest of the rich could afford to cure their loved ones, and this is the man my mother chose to marry.
Distaste sours my mouth.
“Come to lunch soon and Rourke will be happy to fill you in. If you have a little to invest, he can advise you in purchasing stock. You could earn your own millions, and you wouldn’t have to chase Zarah Maddox.”
“I’m not chasing. Falling in love isn’t chasing, and the last thing I want to do is buy stock in a drug company.”
“Suit yourself, young man. I’ll see you this Saturday at eight sharp. Don’t stay up partying...you need to get this done.”
She hangs up, unlike her to not coerce a goodbye and an “I love you,” out of me, but she already wrangled a commitment. I guess that was good enough.
Though I’m not hungry, I force myself to eat breakfast—a bowl of oatmeal, a couple pieces of toast, and a protein shake. It’s still early enough I won’t be late getting to the office, and I told Zarah I wouldn’t be back to the penthouse until lunch.
Zarah inviting Baby and me out for puppy playdates in the dark and dropping into my living room looking like a sexy fairy princess weren’t the only reasons things moved fast between us. I wanted them to move fast, too. I fell in love with her before I knew what was happening, and I wanted to convince myself she was mine while she figured things out. I might look at her the way Zane looks at Stella, but that doesn’t mean we’re going to make it.
We’re right back to where we were before she dumped me, teetering on the edge of a future that may not be viable—for either of us.
I know she needs to experience new things, I just wanted to be there and watch her spread her wings. But just because I want it doesn’t mean that’s what’s best. I have ten years on her, ten years of dating and fucking around. She needs that time, too, and doesn’t need me looking over her shoulder like a jealous boyfriend.
After I eat, I look in on Pop at the office. Zarah was sweet, ordering Baby the grassy pee pad and a huge bag of food, but a penthouse isn’t the place for a dog and I’ll leave her behind when I go back. Maybe Zane’s right. Despite, or maybe because of, all the fucking up he’s done, he usually is. Spend a little time with Zarah and she’ll still go to LA. Hopefully she’ll miss me as much as I’ll miss her, and while she’s visiting Mel and bumping into movie stars on Rodeo Drive, I can get to the bottom of this fucking mess.
Pop’s his usual steady presence sitting behind our desk, the TV turned low, police leading last night’s scumbag out of Maddox Industries, his hands secured behind his back and a snarl on his ugly face. I didn’t get a good look at him, too concerned about Zarah and if she was okay, and I’m fucking glad he didn’t have even one more second alone with her. He would have killed her. I know that deep in my bones.
“Busy night last night,” Pop says, leaning back in his chair and lacing his fingers behind his head. He's been here a while, the rich scent of coffee already wafting through the room.
Letting Baby into the office and kicking the snow off my boots, I ask, “How do you know?”
“Leak in the police department. Zarah’s assault is all over online. Are you okay?”
“Yeah. We’ve seen worse on the streets. Baby took him down. Jesus.” I suck in air through my nose. “Fuck. Can’t have any privacy.” I should have figured one of the cops who answered my call wouldn’t turn down a little extra payday to spill the details of what happened.
“Did he say what he wanted with Zarah?”
“He was one of Ash Black’s bastard goons. Said he had a message for her.”
“I did a little digging on him. Lance Warren. He’s done time for petty theft, grand theft auto, dealing. He worked at Ladies and Gentlemen as a janitor, but before that, he participated in a work release program at Quiet Meadows. Doing laundry, emptying garbage cans, washing dishes. Part-time, twenty hours a week. Paid him a couple bucks an hour and got him out of his cell.”
“He already knew Zarah, then.”
Pop scoffs. “You gotta get it out of your head Zarah’s one of us. She’s not. Everyone already knows who she is and that she was a patient there, but Black could have met Warren at the facility and hired him to work at the club after he made parole. It doesn’t matter, I guess, and once Zane’s done working him over, he won’t see the light of day ever again.”
“I should have let Baby rip his throat out.” I rub my eyes and block out the image of that asshole shoving Zarah against the wall, his hands all over her. Christ, maybe I shouldn’t have left her alone this morning, even if there was double the security in the lobby and two guards standing outside the private lift. As long as she doesn’t go anywhere, she should be safe.
“Did she call you?”
“Kind of. She called the office phone and it forwarded to my cell. I was at the Sweet Apple drowning my sorrows. She was lucky I was so close.”
“Are you back together or what?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know what we are. I said I’d stop by later and check on her. Talk. I learned my lesson, and I told Zane that this morning too. I’m not jumping in blind again. It hurt too fucking much.”
“Good. Then you can keep me company tonight. I’m stalking the divorcée.”
“Oh, yes, please.” Sitting in the car with Pop keeping an eye on a woman who may or may not be cheating on her soon-to-be ex-husband sounds like a thrill a minute, but it’s also a small sliver of normalcy that I desperately need right now.
Pop laughs. “You spoke to Zane already this morning? Busy guy.”
“He and Stella are staying at the Crowne and he texted and asked if I would swing by. I told him about the watch, and he said those things are registered upon purchase.”
“I wasn’t married to your mother for nothing. I already tracked him down. I had to pull out every professional card I had, but I finally managed to get a name.” Pop twists and slides a piece of paper off the fax machine’s tray.
Quickly, I skim the information. “Dr. Stephen Mallory? I’ve heard that name before.”
“Me, too.”
Pop turns the computer monitor and brings up the Engagements section of the digital edition of the King’s Crossing Chronicle. The notice is two years old, but right there in black and white the clip says:
Jerricka Lynne Solis and Stephen Quincy Mallory would like to announce their engagement. Proud parents are Bernard and Nancy Solis and Thomas and Crystal Mallory. A spring wedding is planned.
“Did they get married?”
“I looked for a wedding announcement, but I couldn’t find one. Doesn’t mean they didn’t get hitched, though.” Pop turns the monitor back around.
“No, but if you couldn’t find a write-up, it probably didn’t happen. People like that need attention for every little thing they do.”
He scratches his chin and says, “I wonder what went wrong.”
“Hell if I know, and I’m not too keen to find out.”
“Might have to if it will help solve this case. I don’t like he was engaged to a woman who happens to be connected to two of those dead girls. And why was his watch at a homicide scene?”
“I don’t know, but after Zarah leaves, we can dig around. She’s flying out to LA the day after tomorrow, and I’ll relax a little when she’s not in the state.” I switch gears. “I talked to Mom this morning. She’s going to help me go through Max’s apartment this weekend.”
Pop laughs. “Picked up your phone when she called.”
“Yeah. She chewed me out for not telling her about the truck.”
“She’ll get over it.”
“She asked about you, too.”
“What about me?”
“If you’re seeing someone.”
He frowns. “Why would she care?”
“That’s what I thought.”
Pop doesn’t confirm or deny.
Huh.
I’m not as interested as my mother, and I leave him alone.
Our conversation fades off and Pop and I fall into a companionable silence. We’ve worked together for years, and it’s not often we’re not on the same page. He looks up information about the divorcée we’re going to follow for the next few days and says Ross called in a new case if we wanted to snoop around and see what we could find. Stella’s check padded my account pretty well, but new business is always welcome and Pop and I hit the streets. It’s cold, and no one’s in the mood to talk. If only we could find a snitch as easy to bribe as the cops on the force.
I try to puzzle out how Mallory’s watch ended up at a homicide scene, what happened between him and Jerricka Solis, and if it means anything. It has to, but I don’t know what.
Pop and I finish pounding the pavement and I dawdle, warming up in the office before heading over to the penthouse. I want to see Zarah, but I’m afraid of what I’ll find. I saved her last night, and I’m not going to restart our relationship if it’s based on a foundation of gratitude. I think back to what she said when I rolled out of bed, and no, we’re not okay.
It might be a long time before we are.
One of the guards posted outside the private elevator calls up and asks Zarah’s permission to allow me access to the penthouse. He doesn’t give me the code, punching it in himself, shielding the keypad. I’m not offended. Keeping Zarah safe is my top priority, too.
I’m sweating by the time the doors slide open revealing the enormous foyer and not because I’m hot.
Zarah means a lot to me. She became my whole world in just a few short months. Zane tried to tell me, but I underestimated just how deep her issues went, or maybe I brazenly thought I would be all she needed. Either way, I made a huge error in judgment, and I’m not about to do it again.
Sex is off the table. I don’t care if Jerricka Solis said all that entirely to needle me and throw me off balance. It worked. I’ve given Zarah the lead when it comes to everything about our physical relationship, and Jerricka telling me I shouldn’t have slept with her at all made me feel like the biggest bastard alive.
Zarah’s waiting for me in the living room, still wearing her nightgown, a robe over the black silk, and a throw wrapped around her shoulders like a shawl. Dark shadows rest under her eyes, and she’s been crying, her cheeks still wet.
“Hey, how are you doing?” I’m an ass. I shouldn’t have left her alone.
I untie my boots and shrug out of my jacket. Silently, she watches me, her brown eyes large and wary. I admit, it sparks a little anger. I’m the slighted one, the wronged one. She was the one who dumped me, and she’s looking at me like I hurt her. I push it back. Yelling won’t help, and if I let my temper out, I’ll feel like a bigger asshole than I already do.
“I’m okay. Tired. I couldn’t fall back to sleep after you left.”
“I’m sorry. Your brother texted. He wanted to run a couple of things by me, then I stopped at the office and helped Pop tie up a case. Do you want to lie down?”
“Will you come with me?”
“We’re not having sex, Zarah.” I set my jaw.
She swallows and looks away. “No, of course not. You don’t want to touch me after what Jerricka said to you.”
I stand in the middle of their huge living room. The blinds are open, King’s Crossing sprawled before us. “Can you blame me? She told me—it doesn’t matter what she told me. I thought what we were doing was okay. I thought you wanted it. You initiated it a few times, and I never did more than what you said I could do. Then, during your sessions, you told her what? That you weren’t ready after all? That I talked you into doing something you didn’t want to do?”
“No—”
“That what we were doing wasn’t okay—”
“No—”
“That you weren’t ready—”
She stumbles to her feet, that wild look in her eyes whenever I corner her, whenever I force her to say something she’s too scared to say. “I didn’t want you to leave me!”
I don’t buy it and I scoff. “Zarah, all you’ve done since we met is try to dump me. The night you asked me to get you off, you said Jerricka and Zane wanted you to see other people. You should have then, but I convinced you not to and that was my mistake. And the day we made love for the first time, you said it again, then the afternoon we were at Quiet Meadows, and then three days ago you actually went through with it. All you’ve wanted since we’ve been together is for us to be apart. And you wonder why I’m mad? If you don’t want to be with me, there is nothing forcing you to stay. I can turn around, go downstairs, and I will never bother you again.”
Tears run down her cheeks. “I’m dirty, and you can do better. I’m damaged and broken and all I’m good for is—”
“Don’t you dare . Do you even listen to yourself when you say that crap? You let Ash sell you because you were protecting Zane and your mom and dad’s memory. If I couldn’t understand that, I wouldn’t be here. I’m sorry, Zarah, but yes, I’m frustrated. If you haven’t healed enough to be in a relationship, then own it and tell me because I can’t keep letting you break my heart. At some point I have protect myself, even if that means living without you.”
She turns, shuffles to the window, and leans her forehead against the glass. I don’t have the pit in my stomach I did the day at the coffeehouse. I’m not feeling the same vibes. She knows being apart is hard. It might be difficult for her to accept she deserves my love, but I want her to understand it will be easier fighting against all the bullshit if we’re together.
“I’ve never felt the way I feel when I’m with you,” she murmurs, her voice low. She’s still looking out the window, and I can barely hear her. I want to step closer, but I don’t want to scare her or make her feel threatened. “When we’re not together, all I can think about is you. I want to text you, call you, I want to be with you every second of every day. Even when we make love, it’s not close enough. Nothing can be close enough. I want you to consume me, I want you to suffocate me. I’m obsessed, possessed, and all I want is to make you happy. I know I’m broken and I’m trying so hard to hide it so that you can’t see it. I want to be normal. I want to have a normal relationship. I want to go to the movies and follow the storyline, I want to move in with you, go grocery shopping, and take Baby on walks. I want to build snowmen in the yard with our children. I want it all, Gage, and I want it with you.”
Tentatively, I step behind her, and she leans against me, whimpering. I rest my hands on her shoulders and we look over the city. The city she’ll own, the city she’ll hold in the palm of her hand the day she can finally see clearly.
It won’t be much longer now. Ingrid’s death, Dr. Mallory, Quiet Meadows, the drug testing, they all mean something, and I won’t rest until I can figure out what.