Chapter Twelve
CHAPTER TWELVE
Zarah
G age rattling around the kitchen wakes me up. It’s black as pitch outside, but that’s normal for November in Minnesota. Baby lays next to me chasing squirrels in her dreams. Arya and Sansa don’t sleep with me—they have crates in the mudroom. Zane says if I want a pet, I should adopt a pet. Arya and Sansa were trained to be guard dogs at the governor’s mansion, and he won’t let me or Stella, soften them up. I know it’s a good idea to keep them alert, but I like the thought of having a dog sleep with me like Baby is.
I dig my fingers into her fur, and she snorts in her sleep.
Gage’s sheets are made of flannel, and after numerous washings, they feel soft against my skin.
He didn’t come in to wish me a last goodnight, and I’m on the fence as to how I feel about that. I can tell him what I want, but he knows I’m too scared to take it. He’s nine years older than me, older than Zane, and his wisdom, street smarts, and common sense are fascinating. He didn’t let me give him any shit, and he’s not intimidated by my money.
Somehow, I think Gage would like me even more if I didn’t have any. If I were a barista like that woman, Sierra. Stella made a choice to live like she isn’t the fiancée of a billionaire. What would my life be like if I lived like I didn’t have money? I could ask Zane for a job, earn a paycheck. I don’t have my driver’s license and I could ask Gage to teach me how to drive. If I passed my test, I could buy a car and not depend on Douglas to give me a ride anywhere I needed to go.
The freedom feels like a big, shiny apple. Come, take a bite , it says. But after I do, I’ll realize it’s full of poison. I’m not ready to be on my own, am I? Or am I hiding behind my fear? Maybe Jerricka’s right. Maybe I should go to school. It doesn’t matter if everyone knows who I am, I’ll never be anyone different.
Gage drops something in the kitchen, and Baby jumps out of bed.
“Traitor,” I call after her.
“Food will always win,” Gage says, appearing in the doorway. He’s been up for a little while now, and his hair is damp. If he came into his room for clothes, I didn’t hear him, and he’s dressed to go to work in dark blue jeans, a black t-shirt, and a plaid flannel shirt unbuttoned over it. He’s already wearing boots. No lazing around in bed today.
He wants to drop me off at home as soon as possible. Get rid of me.
I’m so much trouble.
Dirty.
I sigh and sit up, bunching the comforter over my legs.
“I don’t want to do the ‘here’s your hat what’s your hurry’ drill, but it’s after seven and I have to swing by the office as soon as I can.” He crosses his arms over his broad chest and leans against the doorjamb.
“Are you working on something juicy?” I ask, sliding the edge of the sheet between my fingers.
“Nothing too interesting. Do you want some coffee?”
“No, that’s okay. I’ll eat breakfast at home and take my meds.”
“How much longer do you have to be on them?”
He won’t come into the bedroom, not while I’m lying in bed wearing only a t-shirt. He wants me to feel safe, but I’m starting to feel like I have leprosy.
I can’t have it both ways.
“I’m not sure.” I don’t say more. Zane, Dr. Reagan, and Jerricka determine how quickly my dosages can be lowered, and that depends on how I respond. So far, Dr. Reagan’s been pleased, but every change unsettles me, turning my emotions into a kaleidoscope. I eagerly look forward to it as much as I fear it. I need to move forward. I need my life back.
“I’m sorry.”
I shrug, but I’m not sure if he can see it in the dim room. “I’ll get dressed.”
“Okay.”
He walks back into the kitchen, and I slide out of bed. I folded my clothes and placed them on his chair, and I put on the jeans and blouse I was wearing last night. Flashbacks slam into my mind of lying on the floor in the same gown, the sun rising, my body sore and used, waiting for Ash to appear and lock me up in his suite of rooms at Black Enterprises.
He made me move out of the penthouse to control me, and Zane didn’t do anything because Ash told him he loved me and wanted to marry me and why wouldn’t Zane believe it because Ash was a wonderful liar and could convince anybody to believe anything.
Breathe .
I feel like I did at the showing, when Gage shoved my head between my knees. But he’s not here, he’s puttering around in the kitchen and talking to Baby, and shaking, I sink to the floor at the end of the bed, trying not to throw up simply because I’m wearing my clothes from last night.
Gage finds me, my back pressed against his bed frame, a sheen of sweat covering my skin, my eyes glassy, my whole body trembling. This time he doesn’t keep his distance, and he hurries across his bedroom and kneels in front of me.
“What is it?” he asks, holding my face between his warm hands. He forces me to meet his eyes. “Zarah. What is it?”
I breathe shallowly through my mouth. The scent of coffee usually smells good, but now it churns my stomach. “Sorry. I’m sorry. Anxiety attack. I’ll be okay.”
He crushes me to his chest, and I focus on the soft fabric beneath my cheek. I count backward from fifty and soon my panic gives way to shame, like it always does.
“What triggered it? Me?” Gage asks.
It’s tempting to tell him yes. Yes, he did. Bring me home, don’t see me anymore. I’m so much fucking trouble, I should cut him loose, but my heart can’t do that. Last night he said he was falling in love with me and I admit the same, but I can’t trust my feelings and I can’t tell him. Because of the drugs, he probably wouldn’t believe me anyway. How do I know my own mind?
My only argument is a person doesn't love with their mind, they love with their heart, and my heart has never suffered the damage of Ash’s poison.
“No. Dressing in last night’s clothes.”
Gage is smart and doesn’t need me to clarify.
“You should’ve told me.”
“I didn’t know. My doctor said this stuff could happen. The drugs buried my memories. It’s what Ash wanted. Sometimes a scene, a phrase, an action, will crash through my mind. Zane’s weaning me off these meds as fast as he can, but sometimes the lower dosages cause my memories to burst. It’s not good.”
“You were thinking about the morning after.”
“Yes.”
Gage hauls me into his lap, and I melt into his embrace. It’s so easy to let someone else shoulder the burden, let someone else carry what Ash did to me, but that wouldn’t be right. Zane’s trapped. He feels responsible for what happened. If I can’t move on, neither can he, and I don’t want that for my brother. He didn’t do anything to deserve it.
I need to try harder to do better.
“Keep clothes here,” he murmurs into my hair.
I lift my head. “Really?”
“If you’re comfortable with it, yeah. Then this won’t happen again.”
“You want to keep seeing me, even after last night?”
“Zarah.” He breathes my name, and it sounds so romantic. He lowers his head and waits for me to meet him the rest of the way. I don’t need any coaxing. I nudged the seam of his lips with my tongue, and this time he participates. He tastes like coffee, bitter and smoky, like my past, if I choose to dwell on it. His hands are warm, and he pulls the hem of my blouse up and presses his palm to my skin under my ribs.
His touch lights me on fire. I squirm in his lap, that squishy feeling filling me up, and a pressure builds between my legs. My panties are damp. I know my body is telling me I want sex.
I lay my hand against his neck, the only spot on him that isn’t covered by clothes warm enough to fight the cold outside.
Gage drags in a shuddering breath and mumbles against my lips, “You didn’t do anything, so yes, I still want to see you even after last night. But, if we keep this up, I won’t be able to go to work.”
I wiggle, his hard cock pushing into my thigh. It’s gratifying to me as a woman I can turn him on, but it’s scary because I know what a man is supposed to do with it to feel good.
“Sorry.” I drop my hand.
“Don’t apologize for being sexy, beautiful, and heartbreakingly fragile. You are amazing, Zarah, and you humble me wanting to spend time with me.”
“That’s sweet.” I rub a kiss over cheek. He didn’t shave and his whiskers burn my skin, in a good way. “We better go. I don’t want to be the reason you’re late.”
“Are you okay now?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
Holding me in his arms, he stands and walks to the kitchen. I sip on a cup of coffee after all while he does last minute things around the apartment and lets his truck warm up before we leave.
The drive goes by quickly and we don’t talk about much on the way. Usually I like the silence, but it feels awkward today. I’m still thinking about my panic attack and how he reacted. He took it in stride and offered a solution. I don’t dare hope our relationship can be that simple. We don’t plan to see each other again, and it fuels my unease.
He slows in front of the house and parks. The curtains twitch, but whoever was watching for us moved away too fast and I couldn’t see who it was.
I’ve lost track of the day. I can’t remember if it’s Stella’s turn to be home or if Zane’s working in his study. That will be one of the first changes—telling them they can both leave. Ingrid will be here and Lucille is always around.
I need to start controlling more parts of my life or one day I won’t be on any medication but mentally I’ll still be in the same place.
Gage gets out of the truck and opens my door. He whispers a kiss over my lips and sweeps his hand over the back of my head. “Have a good day, sweetheart.”
“Thanks. You too.” I want to stay and snuggle in his arms, but I force myself to jump out of the truck. He’s busy and has an hour drive back into the city. Still, I pause. I want to ask when we’ll see each other next. I even part my lips, but I lose my nerve and he slams the door shut. The sharp sound echoes over the yard.
The cold, early morning air slaps at me.
He climbs behind the wheel and waves goodbye.
Shivering, I watch his truck until I can’t see him anymore. I miss him already.
My cell rings.
I dig around in my purse and find it at the bottom under my wallet. Unknown Caller is flashing on the black screen.
“Hello?” I answer cautiously, my breath coming out in white puffs. Who would be calling me now? It’s eight-thirty in the morning.
“Zarah, dear. This is Willow. I think it’s time we had a chat, don’t you?”