Shattered Dreams (King’s Crossing #6)

Chapter Eight

CHAPTER EIGHT

Gage

I ’m walking that tightrope again, wanting so badly to be there to tell Zarah goodbye and giving her the space she needs to be her own person. I don’t know if I could watch her board a plane without me. It’s probably better she went to the airport alone or I’d act like a fool, latching onto her leg like a toddler at daycare begging his mommy not to leave him behind.

“You’re scowling,” my mother says, wrapping one of Max’s knickknacks in a page of old Chronicle newspaper. It’s a bit ironic we’re wrapping up his life in the paper he died for.

“You’re surprised?” I ask, sitting near her on the floor in front his bookcase, going through the things I didn’t pack the first time I was here.

“You always did have more of your father in you than I ever wanted to admit,” she says, laughing a little, placing the small figurine into a box between us.

“Why did you get married if you didn’t want him?” I’m surprised I never asked her this before, but if I were to speculate aloud, she’d say it’s because by the time I could talk I’d made my choice clear and I never spoke to her more than necessary. She’d be right, as I have always preferred Pop over her, and I wasn’t shy letting either parent know it.

“I got swept up, and I never thought about the future. His eyes, the way he wore his shoulder holster.” She smiles fondly, staring at the floor. “Did you know we were at a jewelry store one afternoon whiling the time away. It was in a dingy building, and Linc said the owner was a friend of his. Some unfortunate man chose just that moment to rob the place, the poor dear. I didn’t have time to blink and Linc had that boy flat on his back and his gun sliding across the floor. That night we made love, wild, like nothing we’d ever done before. I was so turned on. I think that’s when you were conceived.” She blushes.

“You never told me that.”

“It’s nothing I’m proud of. Letting myself get carried away. He never would have been able to support us on what he made. He’d be barely in the black by the end of the month, and that’s not the way I wanted to live. I don’t regret we had you, but I wish... Well, none of that matters now. Your father is a good man, but kindness doesn’t pay the bills.”

“You know Rourke cheats on you, don’t you?” I ask, my heart burning. My mother divorced my father because he was broke and kind. If Zarah didn’t have her billions, would she turn me away for standing up for what I believed in while I struggled to make ends meet every month? I can’t imagine she’d do that.

Stella wouldn’t. Stella Maddox would choose kindness over anything, everything else. It’s why the Blacks are in prison right now. Because she chose to protect Zane and Zarah and the Maddox legacy, and she traded her own freedom to do it. Kindness isn’t a flaw, and it isn’t a weakness. Next to Zarah, Stella’s the strongest woman I know.

“I can’t keep a man as virile as Rourke satisfied. I know he sleeps with other women, and it used to hurt, but he married me. That counts for something. I wouldn’t expect you to understand. You’ve never approved of the way we do things.”

“No, I never did, and it’s why Max and I never spent any time together. He was always trying his damnedest to fit in with your upper-class standards, and I couldn’t give a shit less about any of that.” I wrap a little wooden box that held two tarnished pennies when I looked inside it.

“That’s not true, and you know it’s not. I offered many times to move him into a nicer apartment in a better part of the city, just as I have for you. Don’t turn this into something about Max when this is about you.” She pauses. “Are you angry because you don’t fit in, or are you angry because you want to? The evening you spoke at Max’s award dinner, were you angry you didn’t fit in, but Zarah did? Even confused, frightened by the crowd, she belonged there and you didn’t.”

I flinch.

Mom rests a hand on my arm. “I’m not saying that to be cruel, but you’ve chosen to have a relationship with her and it’s difficult to find a happy medium when you have nothing and she carries the whole world in her purse.”

I resist the urge to shake her off. “Zane and Stella do just fine.”

“Zane and Stella are hiding. Zane’s been hiding for years, and that’s all anyone can talk about. One day he’s finally going to stake his claim in King’s Crossing’s society, and I wonder how Stella will cope or if she’ll even bother to try and just disappear.”

My mother doesn’t understand Zane and Stella’s history and she underestimates how much he loves her. He’ll never let her disappear again—in any way—but I say, “Not everything is about money or status. You abandoned a man who loved you, left a baby boy who would have done anything for you, and you married a creep who fucks other women and doesn’t care if you know. He despises Zarah because Ashton Black sold her to men I bet he did business with. She’s a victim, tried to protect her family, and Rourke blames her and calls her a whore. You married that. Max wanted to be like him, and you wonder why I’ve never wanted anything to do with either of you.”

“Max did not want to be like his father or he would have studied law instead of journalism. Stop blaming your brother for the relationship you didn’t have. That’s your fault and nobody else’s.”

I heft to my feet and walk into the kitchen. I have plenty of work in front of me today, and I need to watch my attitude or Mom will leave and I won’t have her help to get this done. Not that I want her company so much, not after the words we just threw back and forth at each other, but if I can get through this as quickly as possible, I’ll never have to see my mother or come back to this apartment again.

She follows me and starts a pot of coffee using grounds I didn’t know were still here. “Max loved Rourke, as boys love their fathers, but Max loved Zarah more. Rourke told him—”

I lift my eyebrows.

“Yes, I know what he thought of her and that he let Max know it. Max said he would choose Zarah over him, over me, if it came to that. He loved her so much, and Rourke’s disapproval hurt him. He admired you, Gage. Your independence, your strength. Your freedom, your resolve to always do the right thing, no matter the consequences. All Max ever wanted was to be like you.”

“What? He wanted to be a prick who doesn’t fit in anywhere?”

“He never understood you distanced yourself so you wouldn’t get hurt. When Vivian broke it off, I worried about you. You thought you’d found a woman who wanted you, a little boy living on the wrong side of the tracks, divorced parents, a could-have-been cop, who would have been a decorated officer by now. You’ve struggled ever since, and meeting Zarah hasn’t helped. She’s so different from you, Gage. What is it about her that captivated you and your brother? I look at her photos on Truth or Dare and all I see is confusion and fear, this mousy little woman who jumps at her own shadow.”

I’m not answering that. She’ll never match Zarah’s unflinching resolve, never realize just what Zarah’s made of. The sheer amount of strength and determination she needed to survive Ash Black and Quiet Meadows. Max felt it the second he met her...and so did I. “Why do you stay married to Rourke if you know what he is? You’d settle well in a divorce, maybe even meet a man who might actually adore you.”

Mom pours coffee into mugs we haven’t packed yet. “That’s something you never understood. I loved your father, but I loved him for what I thought I could turn him into. After we divorced, a weight lifted off me. We weren’t a good match. You may not believe it, but I love Rourke. Even after all these years, I love him, and maybe he doesn’t come home to me every night, but I wear his ring and no other woman can claim that. Sometimes, Gage, you have to make sacrifices to keep the ones you love in your life. What will you sacrifice to keep Zarah? Your PI business? Your little apartment? If she decides she doesn’t like dogs? Would you give Baby away?”

Baby lifts her head, her icy blue eyes staring at me until she knows things are okay.

“I would never sacrifice my self-worth, my dignity, my integrity, to stay with someone who would have so little regard for my feelings. Zarah would never cheat on me. Sex means something different to her, ever since Black sold her.” I stare into the black pool steaming in a Will Write for Coffee mug. “I’m scared one day she’ll say I’m not enough, the way you told Dad you wanted more, but I would never give away any part of myself to keep her.”

Mom sips her coffee. “Have you spoken to Vivian recently?” she asks, holding the mug near her lips.

I frown. “Viv? No. Why? It’s been years since I’ve thought about her.”

“Maybe it would help if you sought her out. Your feelings and emotions are clouding your memories. Talk to her, tell her you met someone, and that you need her blessing.”

“I don’t need her to give me anything.”

“You know what I mean, but yes, you do. You need her to tell you she didn’t leave you because of what or who you are. That she left because she didn’t love you the way you loved her. There’s no one to blame when that happens, Gage. That’s love.”

We go back into the living room and keep packing, and I turn my mother’s advice over in my head. I haven’t thought about Viv in a long time, not in any tangible sense. Thoughts and feelings of regret that hit me out of nowhere, and yeah, I did have a hard time after she left me. I didn’t want Zarah to have any more to worry about and I never told her. I know she’s jealous of Sierra and I didn’t help while we were broken up, but I’m not still in love with Viv, don’t wonder how she’s doing or if she popped out two point five kids and she’s living in a house in the suburbs and drives a minivan. In fact, I haven’t checked up on her to know if she married the douchebag she dumped me for.

“Have you ever cheated on Rourke?” I ask out of curiosity.

“I did a couple of times,” she admits softly, “with a doctor I met at one of Rourke’s dinners. Rourke bought stock in a pharmaceutical company and they were working together on a drug trial. He caught me at a time when I was a little lonely, resenting Rourke for going to DC without me. I know if he doesn’t invite me to go he has other plans, meaning women, and I wanted to pay him back.”

Wow. I didn’t expect that. “Did Rourke find out?”

Mom shakes her head. “No. I felt too guilty and broke it off. He was engaged at the time, and our affair caused him some problems. He didn’t deserve it, and I’ve always felt horrible about that. Sometimes I’ll see him at a fundraiser and get swept away when he touches my hand or kisses my cheek, the way he smells, the way he wears a suit. But I love Rourke, and it was just a short time in my life when I needed something else. I’m over it now, and I’m settled. I want that for you, too. I’d like grandbabies, while I’m still young enough to enjoy them.” She sighs.

Running my fingers over a journalism textbook, I say, “I’m sorry about Max.”

“I am too, but everything happens for a reason. If he were still alive, maybe he and Zarah would be married. Your brother gave you a second chance at love.” She squeezes my hand. “Don’t let hard feelings waste it.”

In the briefest hint of a truce, I tangle our fingers. “I won’t.”

“Good. Now, let’s get moving. We’ve barely made a dent and it’s after ten.”

I slide my phone out of my pocket to check the time, and she’s right. We’ve been talking for over an hour and haven’t gotten anything done. My home screen is blank—Zarah didn’t text me a last-minute goodbye or a couple of kissing emojis. I hope the trip is the start of the kind of life she’s looking for. I’m not a fool and don’t think I can be everything she needs. If I was stupid enough to think that, she’s proven me wrong several times.

As we fold Max’s clothes and pack them to drop them off at a thrift store, I roll around what Mom suggested. Maybe I will hunt Viv down. If she’s in the area, I’ll go see her, talk. Maybe my emotions and hurt feelings are clouding history and things weren’t as bad as they seemed. If she’s not in the city, I’ll put it away for good.

I find Viv’s current address easy enough, searching the public records database. My mother’s question about sacrifices scratches at my skin like a bug bite. What would I sacrifice to keep Zarah in my life? A job I like? My apartment? I figured one day we would find something together. Maybe not this year, or even the next, but I never thought we’d move into my little apartment. I would never give up Baby. Any woman who has a problem with my dog wouldn’t be a good fit.

That’s what I wish I would have told my mom. Like all good comebacks, I think of this later. You may be willing to make sacrifices to keep someone you love, but if they love you back, they wouldn’t ask.

Compromise and sacrifice are two different things. I’m fully willing to compromise as long as I’m not the only one doing it.

It surprises me Viv lives in a rundown part of King’s Crossing, in an old apartment building that has seen better days. In fact, Pop and I questioned tenants not long ago who live in a building not far from here.

I find a parking spot on the street, and Baby watches out the window, her attention piqued. My truck fits into the neighborhood about as well as I did at Max’s award dinner, and I’m reluctant to leave it unsupervised. It doesn’t matter I feel more at home here on the sidewalk than I do when I’m staring up at Maddox Industries. I don’t want it to matter I’m more at ease nodding at the homeless man shivering in the cold on Viv’s building’s stoop than I am clearing security every time I see Zarah at the penthouse.

I shove a five dollar bill into the old man’s hand, and he thanks me, his smile thin and white cataracts clouding his eyes.

The vestibule is clean, if not a little musty, but the lock on the security door is broken.

My picture of Viv living in the suburbs couldn’t have been further from where she really ended up. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all.

I reach the fourth floor, and children’s music tinkles down the hallway. I stop at 405 and knock. There’s a rustling, as if she’s looking through the peephole, and then she opens the door.

She’s as beautiful as she ever was, but tired.

Life hasn’t been kind since we broke up.

“Gage. What are you doing here?”

“I stopped by to talk. I’m sorry I didn’t call first. If it’s not a good time, I can go.”

I drink her in. She’s taller than Zarah by half a foot, long blonde hair and faded brown eyes. She’s put on a little weight, but she carries it well, her worn jeans clinging to ample hips and thighs.

A little girl runs up behind her and peers around Viv’s leg, staring curiously at Baby.

“This is Lacey,” Viv says, brushing hair out of her daughter’s eyes.

I search for a clue she’s mine, but she’s too young and there’s no sign of me in her features.

Leaning against the wall, I wait for an invitation that may not come. Viv still hasn’t opened the door, and I’m starting to think she won’t, but she finally steps back.

Her cheeks flush.

I understand now. She’s embarrassed.

“Go watch your show, okay? I’ll make you lunch in a little bit.”

“Okay,” Lacey says, tentatively touching the top of Baby’s head then darting away.

I untie my boots and leave them by the door. “Can Baby come in?”

Viv flicks a glance at the dog I rescued from the shelter after she broke up with me. “No one will know.”

Baby follows me into her tiny living room, the space dreary, dark paneling leeching the sunlight trying to shine in through dirty windows.

Scents of coffee and French toast linger in a kitchen that hasn’t been updated since I was born, and Viv gestures to a scarred table that wobbles on uneven legs.

“How have you been, Viv?” I ask carefully. This isn’t how I expected to find her, and I’m suddenly walking on eggshells. I don’t want to offend her by saying the wrong thing.

She lifts a shoulder and turns to the coffeemaker. “Do you want a cup? Do you still drink it black?”

I nod.

Viv pours a mug, sets it in front of me, and sits on the remaining chair. No man lives here, then, if they don’t need a third to eat family meals. I didn’t consider she’d be single. Or a mother. Or a single mother.

I sip the coffee. Nothing remarkable about the generic brand, nothing like the rich blend Zarah served me in bed the other morning. The best of the best while women like Viv have fallen on hard times and buy whatever they can afford.

“You have a daughter.” I say the obvious for lack of anything better.

“She just turned three. She’s not yours,” she adds quickly. “If that’s why you’re here.”

“No, it’s not. Where’s her father?”

“Don’t know. He took off the second I found out I was pregnant.”

“I’m sorry.” I am sorry. I would have treated her a helluva lot better than that.

“Don’t be. Shit happens. Why are you here, Gage?”

I remember the way she would say my name in the dark, the way she would say she loved me. Studying her face, I wonder how much of it was a lie, how much of it was real, and how much of it I pretended because I wanted to keep her.

“I...met someone, but I’m having a hard time.” I try to be honest, hoping she’s honest too. If she won’t tell me the truth, there was no point in coming here.

She scoffs. “You’re dating Zarah Maddox. Let me cry you a river.”

Straightening, I ask, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Her money doesn’t mean she has an easy life.”

She rolls her eyes, displaying a sarcasm I don’t remember her ever having. “Sure. We all have our problems.”

“Zarah’s not a part of this. I thought we were going to get married. Lacey could have been mine.” It punches me in the gut. Lacey was so close to being my kid. “You were looking for better, right? Was it my job? That I was working with Pop? It finally got to you? My apartment?” My apartment isn’t much, but I’d bet my next paycheck, no matter how small it is, that Lacey would rather live there than here.

“I didn’t care about where you lived, and I said I didn’t like you being a PI, but that was just an excuse. I wasn’t looking for better, I wanted different, and I thought I found it when I met Ryan. He said we’d get out of this shit city. He made me a lot of promises, and I believed him. I was greedy. It had nothing to do with you.”

At least she didn’t cheat on me. “If you didn’t love me, why did you say yes when I asked you to marry me?”

Viv laughs. “Jesus. Do you say no when someone asks you that?”

“Yeah, when you’re being honest, you say no. Say you need time, or you need to talk things through first. I thought we were happy.” It’s damned difficult to keep the resentment out of my voice. The pain when she left was so sharp I can still feel it, like she walked out on me just yesterday.

“ You were happy.”

I sigh, frustrated. “Why didn’t you tell me what happened?”

“That would have been real classy. Ryan knocks me up and splits, and I crawl back to you, puking every five seconds. I knew I hurt you. I knew you wouldn’t have taken me back.”

“Four years ago, I might have. It took me a long time to get over you.”

“Saved you some trouble then, didn’t I?” She looks away.

Lacey’s sitting in front of the old TV looking small and alone. I don’t know Viv well enough anymore to peg her as a good mother. I hope she is.

The little girl feels my eyes on her, and she jumps to her feet, a cowlick at the back of her head making her hair stand up. “You’re scary looking,” she says, eyeing my beard, “but you have a pretty dog.”

“You can pet her if you want. She likes that.”

Lacey rubs Baby’s fur, and she leans into the little girl’s hands.

Viv watches her daughter for a moment and then asks, “What do you mean, you’re having a hard time? You and Zarah Maddox. I never would have believed it if I hadn’t seen your picture on Truth or Dare with my own eyes. How did you meet?”

“My brother was part of the team that took down Black Enterprises.”

“I remember that. I’m sorry he’s gone. I liked him.”

“Thanks. He liked you too.” Max had liked Viv. They met at a Christmas party at Mom and Rourke’s a long time ago. “I met her when she and her brother went to his memorial service. We got to talking, and one thing led to another.” That’s not really how it happened, you know that, but I don’t want to get into the whole story.

Lacey drifts into the attached living room to watch more of her show, and I sit, fidgeting, turning my cup on the table. I guess I should go, but I hate leaving them like this.

“What do you do for work?” I ask, hoping I’m not insulting her and that she has a job.

“I waitress at a diner down the street. It’s not great, but I don’t have a car. I get rental assistance and food stamps.” Heat stains her cheeks. “Ryan doesn’t pay child support. The state tried to track him down, but he went underground.”

“Do you want me to find him?”

“Won’t do any good. He probably gets paid under the table. He wasn’t happy I got pregnant and I should just be grateful he leaves us alone.”

Unfortunately, I agree. He could show up and smack them around, spend what little money she has, if that’s the type of guy he is.

“I should have stayed with you.” She sounds wistful. “You’re a good guy, Gage. Any woman would be lucky to have you. Whatever you’re going through, I left because I was stupid and didn’t know a good thing when I had it. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“You broke my heart.”

“Well, Karma’s paying me back for that.” She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. I can’t help but notice the sleeve of her sweater is fraying.

“Did you go to school like you wanted?”

Viv isn’t that much younger than me, but she’d never gone to college and she’d been planning to enroll in classes full-time while I paid the bills. She’d been excited, at least, I thought she’d been. It’s hard to puzzle out what was real about our relationship and what she put on for show. Maybe I wanted her to go to school more than she’d wanted it for herself.

“No. When Lacey was a baby, she had a lot of ear infections and we were in the ER once a month for a good year. I didn’t have time to do something like that even if I could have afforded it.” She rests her arms on the table, holds one of my hands, and traces where the edge of my tattoo sleeve peeks out of my shirt cuff. “I did love you, but I was younger then, na?ve, and I thought love wasn’t enough. I wanted danger and adventure. All I got was knocked up and more bills than I can pay.” She pauses. “You didn’t come back to ask me to try again.”

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t.”

She twists our fingers together, how easily they fit the way they used to. It’s amazing what the body remembers. “We were good together.”

“I thought that, until you proved me wrong.” I untangle our fingers, pull out my checkbook, and write out a check for two thousand dollars. “I want to help you, but this is all I can afford right now.” I slide the check across the table.

Her eyes flash angrily and she opens her mouth to tell me off, but I say, “That isn’t Zarah’s money. It’s mine. She doesn’t give me anything but her time. I still earn my own paycheck, still pay my own bills, still live in the same apartment I had when I dated you. That’s my money. It’s okay.”

She wilts and brushes her fingers over the paper. “Thanks. It will help a lot.”

“Think about going to school. I’ll pay your tuition.”

Bitterness creeps across her face. If she wants to give her daughter a better life, she can’t afford to turn me down. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I used to love you. Because Lacey is this close to being my kid. Because I’m the type of guy to help if I can. We have a history, and I want your future to be a little brighter. Fill out the financial aid application and you’ll probably qualify for some grants. I’ll cover the rest, that way you won’t have loans to pay off when you’re done.” I lay my business card on top of the check. “Call me. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll assume you don’t want my help, but think about Lacey. You don’t want her growing up here. Not if she doesn’t have to.”

A tear drips down her cheek. “You should have been her daddy.”

“I could have been, but I’m not.” I push out of the rickety chair, and Baby bounces to her feet.

At the door, I shove on my work boots. Lacey doesn’t bat an eye in my direction, and I ache for kids in a way I never have before watching her sitting on the floor staring at the children’s program.

I sigh. “Thanks for talking to me.”

“I hope you and Zarah work it out. She’ll never find a better man to stand by her.”

“Thanks. Take care of yourself,” I mumble, my lips pressed against her forehead. Her skin is just as soft, her scent the same. It brings back a lot of memories, but she’s not Zarah.

With help, I hope Viv can get her life on track. It’s not a sin to want more, to need more, but she’ll have to find what she’s looking for on her own.

I write a mental note to thank my mother for her suggestion. Even though I signed up to help Viv for the next little while, the visit will let me put the past away.

While my truck warms up, I check my phone and frown. It’s long past when Zarah should have messaged me she landed at LAX, but maybe she got caught up in the excitement of traveling and forgot. I don’t want to text and look like I’m checking up on her, and if there was trouble, Mel would have let Zane know. He’s been forthcoming, sharing other information, news, and plans, and I doubt he would shut me out now.

I throw Baby snowballs in the parking lot that she gleefully chases after, snagging them out of the air. Pop calls and asks if I want to watch a football game, but I turn him down. Now that Zarah and I are back to some stability in our relationship, I’m going to catch up on my sleep. Between thinking I’d never see her again and Black’s fuckhead goon assaulting her, I’ve been a nervous wreck, and I’m man enough to admit it.

For lunch I fix a thick ham and cheese sandwich and crunch through half a bag of chips, and afterward, exhausted, I crash on the couch. I wake up to Baby barking and some idiot banging on the door so loudly someone’s going to call the cops.

“Fuck,” I grumble, staggering to my feet, rubbing sleep out of my eyes.

I’m not surprised to see Zane standing on the other side. As far as I can tell, the man has two settings: sloth and speed of sound.

“What’s gotten into you?” I mutter.

“Has Zarah messaged or called you?”

“Let me piss, I just got up.” I don’t shut the door and I holler into the hallway. “No. She’s probably having drinks with George Clooney.”

“George and Amal are in Italy,” Zane says, dead serious, and Christ, they’re probably best friends. “Zarah texted me, but I had my phone turned off. I promised Stella a quiet morning after we left the airport.”

I shake my dick, zip, and wash my hands. They’re trembling. “What did she say?”

Eying my hands suspiciously, Zane passes over his phone.

“I washed, asshole.” Ignoring his dubious look, I read his sister’s text.

I’ve decided I need some time alone. I’ll let you know when I’m back in the city. Don’t worry about me. I realized Gage and I got back together too soon and I need room to breathe. I love you and Stella. 3

It’s hard not to get pissed, but I’m beginning to recognize her MO now. Whenever things turn too heavy and serious, she gets scared and retreats. It’s easier for her to hide than trust her feelings for me and trust my feelings for her.

“She didn’t fly to LA?”

“Mel said she never showed.”

I chew that over. “You’re just checking your phone now?”

He grimaces. “It hasn’t been that long. Stella and I were holed up, and we slept longer than I thought we would.”

“Ah-huh.” There’s sleeping, and then there’s sleeping. “You should have called. I could’ve told you over the phone that I haven’t heard from her.” I force all the nonchalance I can muster into my voice. If Zarah wants to hide, I have to let her. I can’t tail her every time she runs. She needs to stay on her own or our relationship will never evolve to the next level.

I pull two beers out of the fridge and offer him one.

He shakes his head.

I put one back, slam the door, and guzzle half of mine. After the talk Viv and I had this morning, not taking this personally is pretty fucking hard.

Zane’s waiting for me to say something, do something, but hell if I know what. Finally, I shrug. “I don’t know what to tell you. She’s obviously having a problem with me, and what am I supposed to do? Chase her every time she decides we’re moving too fast? Run after her every time she thinks I’m no good for her?”

He meets my eyes. Doesn’t speak until he has every ounce of my attention.

“Yes.”

I blow out a breath. “Fuck.”

Zarah knows what to say if she wants me to leave her alone and she didn’t say it.

“Fine. Did you track her phone?”

“I didn’t want to. I wanted to find her some other way first.”

“Well, your other way doesn’t know where she is. You did put the app on her phone that traces it, didn’t you? When you took it after her breakdown?”

“I might have,” he mumbles, “but only for her own protection.”

“Then do it. If she’s okay, you don’t have to approach her, you can let her be.”

Zane presses on the screen and opens the app.

“I don’t know why you didn’t do this earlier.”

“I run a billion-dollar company. I don’t—”

“Scrape gum off your wingtips with a pocketknife?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. I know what he’s saying, but he’s gotten his hands plenty dirty. He doesn’t need to hide that from me.

“Something like that.”

“Pretend all you want. You were best friends with a man who sold women—” and his sister but I don’t say it— “you fucked a hooker for five years—” while Stella was locked up, but I don’t say that, either— “and you worked with a dirty FBI agent, who, incidentally, managed to keep his job and get promoted, if I remember correctly. You’re not fooling anybody.”

“I’m trying to move past that. I know I’ve made mistakes. I know I’m fucking lucky Stella still loves me despite all the shit I’ve done, and we might need Banks again before all this is over.”

I finish my beer. “Where is she?”

Zane frowns and zooms in on the map. “It says she’s still at the airport.”

I resist rolling my eyes like a little girl. “She probably got scared about going after all, and now she’s hiding. Pick her up, bring her home, and tell her it’s okay. It was a big step and something she shouldn’t have tried by herself.”

“Come with me. You’ll be able to talk her down better than I can.”

“Is this my life now?” I push boots onto my feet and grab my jacket. I don’t think this is going to go as easily as I want it to, and I shove on my gloves and hat.

Zane grins. “Isn’t it great?”

“A fucking blast. Baby, come.”

“You think we need her?”

“Maybe not that way, but Zarah likes being near her. If she’s having an anxiety attack, Baby might be a better comfort than I could be, despite what you think.”

It didn’t occur to me until I said it that Zarah might be frozen in fear somewhere, hiding in the King’s Crossing airport, too afraid to text anyone, maybe too embarrassed to admit she didn’t have the courage to fly after all.

I grit my teeth as we rush across town, Zane driving as fast as he dares on the slippery roads.

“Keep an eye on her,” he says, handing me his phone.

The red dot pulses, and I concentrate on the map.

He turns onto the road that leads to the airport and I sit up straighter when he heads toward the airstrip reserved for private planes. We don’t need the airstrip, but the VIP entrance is also located at the back of the airport. Of course this is the way Zane is used to going inside. He’s probably never seen the public entrance in his life.

Blinking in surprise, I realize we drove by the dot. “Wait. This says we passed her phone. It’s on the road somewhere.” I look through the window, expecting to see Zarah standing on the shoulder, her thumb out, hitching, but of course I don’t see anything but evergreen trees, snow, and the airport building, a plane even now descending over a runway.

Zane slams on the brakes and Baby whines.

“Take it easy.”

“Sorry.”

He backs up along the empty road, and I hold up my hand. We’re right on top of the dot. “The app says her phone is right here. Are you sure this is her phone?”

“Yes. I only track her, Stella, Douglas, and Lucille.”

He jumps out of the truck before I can ask him if he tracks me. I bet he does. I bet the son of a bitch knows exactly where I am every single second of the day. Christ. He’ll love asking me what I was doing at Viv’s this morning.

The snowplows have been by and there are fresh snowbanks along the two-lane road. The app isn’t good enough to tell us to the inch where her phone is, but we’re parked right on top of the red dot. Her phone has to be here somewhere.

I look around helplessly. All this white shit. “This isn’t going to work. Do you have something of Zarah’s?”

“No. Well, I hugged her this morning and I was wearing this coat.”

“Let Baby get a whiff. Maybe she can help us. Phones aren’t like clothing, they don’t hold a scent, but Baby knows Zarah.”

Zane hunkers down to his haunches and lets Baby nose his jacket. Zarah has a special scent all her own, something I can get drunk on if I breathe in enough, and Baby’s familiar with it too.

“Find Zarah, sweetheart. Find Zarah.”

Baby’s ears perk up, and she starts to sniff the ground.

It’s not long until she’s off the road, five feet away, whining and pawing through two feet of snow.

Zane steps over the snowbank and onto the airport’s lawn. He helps Baby dig and pulls out a silver cell phone. “It barely has a charge. It’s too cold. We’ll have to warm it up.”

“It won’t tell us anything. Why the fuck is her phone out here? We need to talk to the pilot. Did she have a flight attendant scheduled to fly with her? Maybe she knows something. This isn’t good, Maddox.”

“Christ. Peggy booked the pilot and attendant. Mom and Dad used to keep them on staff, but I let them go after their deaths. We’ll have to ask if they’re still here or if they’re on other flights.”

He parks in VIP parking, and five seconds later we’re face to face with the executive director of the airport. He’s a distinguished looking guy, wears a suit, has a full head of hair, and he’s smiling nervously at Zane. He seems capable, at least. He tracks down the flight attendant and she’s sitting at our table in the VIP lounge faster than I can spit. If all our cases were handled with such efficiency, Pop and I could solve a hundred a day.

“Can you tell us what happened this morning, Maureen?”

At first I’m impressed the director knew her name—I forgot his the moment he introduced himself to us—but then I smartened up. I can read her nametag, too.

She clears her throat and eyes Zane through lowered eyelashes.

Jeez.

“We were just about to take off. Miss Maddox stood outside, like she was trying to find the courage to board. Maybe she was nervous about flying, but she had a melancholy air to her, if you know what I mean.”

I nod. She was torn between going to LA and staying with me.

“Then a black truck sped down the road toward the airstrip. She perked up, and I thought she was expecting someone to join her, even though the flight log indicated she would be the only passenger. A platinum blonde woman jumped out of the truck and asked to talk to her—”

“Platinum blonde?” Zane asks, confused. “It wasn’t Stella.”

“No, not Stella. Fucking hell.” Rage vibrates through every cell of my body. “It was Jerricka Solis.”

“That’s right,” Maureen says, appraising me for the first time. “They spoke in the plane, and Miss Maddox asked if I would serve coffee. I hovered, waiting to see if they needed anything else. The things that woman said to Miss Maddox...” Maureen’s mouth pulls down into a sad twist.

“Like what?” I ask, but I can guess.

“She wanted Miss Maddox to go to a lake house. That woman said she could fix her, turn her into a woman who—” Her gaze whips to mine. “They were talking about you. Gage, right? That’s your name? They were talking about you, and how she’d help Miss Maddox be good enough...” She rubs her forehead. “They were talking about...you two getting married. Being good enough to get married. I’m sorry. I don’t recall the exact words she used, but I remember Miss Maddox shrinking, physically shrinking, with every horrid word that woman said. I wanted to tell her to leave her alone, but it wasn’t my place. Miss Maddox agreed to go with her and I wanted to cry. I should have said something.”

Awkwardly, Zane pats her arm. “My sister trusts that woman. There’s nothing you could have said that would have helped. Don’t be too hard on yourself. Did she happen to mention where the lake house was located? Where they were going?”

“No. They never said. Miss Maddox told Jackson, the pilot, that she wouldn’t be flying after all. I retrieved her suitcases out of the back of the plane, she got into that woman’s truck, and that was it. I cleaned up their coffee, put the jet to rights, and reported in. I’m booked on a flight to Chicago that was short a flight attendant later this afternoon.”

Zane stares at the tabletop, and the airport director and Maureen sit, waiting for instructions.

“Zane?” I prod.

He flicks his fingers. “You can go.”

The director clears his throat, visibly grateful the meeting’s over. “Thanks, Maureen. I’ll clear your flights for the rest of the day and we’ll compensate you. Go home and get some rest.”

“Thanks, Mr. Kowloski. I appreciate that.” Maureen stands and hesitates. “I hope you find her.”

I try to smile. “I hope so, too.”

Zane assures Mr. Kowloski he didn’t do anything wrong, and the airport director says he has other matters to attend to. He scurries across the lounge and hoofs it around a corner. I can just imagine his relief, fleeing Zane’s silent fury.

I scrub Baby’s head. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“That Dr. Stephen Mallory is getting a visit sooner than he thinks he is? Yes, yes, I am.”