Chapter Sixteen
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Zarah
I sleep longer than I normally do, and I feel guilty about it. Zane works, Stella’s studying for finals before winter break, and I’m... in recovery? I hate saying that, and I hate hearing it from other people. “Oh, what do you do, dear?” “Nothing,” Zane will say. “My sister is in recovery.” Like I can’t possibly do anything else while my doctor is weaning me off drugs.
The problem is, I don’t know what I want to do. I could go to school, yes. Stella’s classes don’t pertain to anything right now—she’s still taking generals like history and sociology. I wouldn’t have to decide right away what I wanted to be when I grew up, but the idea of going to campus scares me and I can’t enroll in online classes. Unlike Stella when she worked for Ash, I wasn’t using a computer and learning new software during my years at Quiet Meadows. New laptops look foreign to me, so sleek and thin, and I’m sad because I vaguely remember putting together Zane’s party, remember how it felt to use my contacts, be in control.
I want that power back, but I wouldn’t know what to do with it once I had it. I need to start small—I’m not going to plan parties for five hundred people right away, but today if I go into the city, I can buy a laptop and poke around on my own. Log into my social media accounts, if I can figure out how to reset my usernames and passwords or create new ones. I haven’t checked my email in over six years. The provider probably purged my account.
Maybe Gage can help me.
I love him.
Stretching under the blankets, I turn that around in my mind, and I hide my face under the sheet. I know my cheeks are flaming, thinking about what he did to me last night, what I wanted him to do to me last night. So kind, gentle, giving me what I needed without taking. I opened myself up to him, exposed myself, risking everything, and he accepted me, helped me find pleasure in something that had caused me only pain for so long.
Thinking about Gage’s finger inside me makes me wet, and I touch my clit. I’d never had an orgasm before last night, the pleasure tearing through my body as Gage ravaged my mouth, his hard cock pressed into my hip. He knew how to touch me, how to twist his finger to heighten the sensation.
I wasn’t scared, and that’s a big deal. Gage is huge, in all the ways a man can be. He could rip Ash to shreds if he wanted, but his strength doesn’t frighten me. In fact, it does the opposite. When Gage holds me, I feel completely safe. Like he would protect me from anything, anyone who wanted to hurt me.
Swirling my finger around the tight nub, the unfamiliar urgency grows inside my belly. A fireball of longing, of wishing Gage was the one touching me, licking me down there, urging me to come. I’ve never been eaten out before. None of the men Ash sold me to bothered to give me any sort of pleasure before they took. I wonder how Gage’s scruff would feel between my legs, against the insides of my thighs.
Gently, I pinch one of my nipples, and a slight zing of pain stills me. Gage said some people like a bit of pain when they have sex. I can understand why. My core clenches, increasing the burning between my legs, but I can’t tolerate much, if any. I have to stop associating pain with sex or I’ll never enjoy it. I’ll always fear it.
I’m going to come soon.
Tentatively, I push the tip of my finger into my vagina. I’m very wet. Besides washing up down there in the shower, I haven’t explored my body since I was a teenager. Ash’s jobs stole the pleasure from sex, and in Quiet Meadows, I was too drugged up to care. Over this past year, I’ve been concentrating on recovering emotionally, but Gage has brought my physical recovery to the forefront.
I can’t be scared to touch myself.
My labia are slippery and wet, and I’m swollen. I can feel it inside my body, the pressure. On a reproductive level, my body wants to make babies. I’m in the prime of my life for it, and whenever I look at Gage, my biological clock shrills the alarm. Stella said she would help me go on birth control and I should do that. I’m not ready to have children. I can’t take care of myself.
Drawing my knees up, I continue my exploration, and it feels wicked, dirty. I push the thought back. I won’t be dirty if I enjoy intimacy. Gage didn’t look at me last night like I was dirty. He was so excited he came in his jeans.
The other men came, too. They liked I was dirty. They reveled in my filth because they’re dirty, too.
No. They were the ones who made me dirty, wiped their dirt onto me. Therapy and the love of my family will cleanse me. I can’t recover for Gage. I have to recover for myself first. But Gage can help me, like Jerricka, and Stella, and Lucille and Ingrid. I can get better for myself with them by my side.
I slick my finger over my clit. There are dirty names for what’s between a woman’s legs. Cunt and pussy and snatch. Gash and slit. Making love has bad words too, like fucking and screwing. Nothing pretty, nothing that means a man and a woman are in love, nothing that means when a woman is giving her body to her lover that she’s giving him her heart. That’s what I’ll be doing when I make love to Gage—giving him my heart, my future, my forever, as I give him my body. I don’t know when I’ll be able to do that, but Gage will never do anything unless I’m ready. Unless I ask. Last night was proof of that. I led him on, and he could have forced me to have sex, claiming I offered it, but he didn’t and I trust him with all my heart.
Testing myself, I squeeze my breast again, this time liking the zip to my clit. I imagine Gage biting my nipple, little love nips as he fingers me. I’m close to coming, but I hold off another second, savoring the anticipation.
I can’t ask Gage for too much more without giving. I didn’t touch him last night, and I wonder if he noticed that. His cock was huge, pressed against my hip, and it terrifies me that if we have sex, I’ll have to fit it inside my body.
God, I sound so na?ve. I doubt he’s tried to have sex with a woman who couldn’t accommodate him, and he’s not going to ram into me like the other men. He’ll be gentle and make it pleasurable for me too, no matter how much time I need.
I want to make him come. I want to hold his cock in my hand, glide my palm over his soft skin, watch him spurt as he orgasms. I’ve touched cocks before. I did do a little fooling around in high school, and Ash and I played a bit before he turned mean.
I never touched Max, though, and Gage will be the first man since Ash sold me.
I’ve given blowjobs when I haven’t wanted to, and a hand to the back of my head might always be a trigger, like the night in the gallery when Gage helped me fend off a panic attack. I’ll need to remember to use my words, tell him what bothers me, what can trigger me, and he’ll understand. He won’t know if I don’t tell him, and I’m in for some embarrassing conversations. If we can explore together, have some fun like Stella and Lucille said, maybe those conversations won’t be so horrifying.
I sigh and press the side of my face into my pillow.
I’m complicated. I hope he doesn’t get tired of it.
Of me.
I imagine Gage between my legs, licking me. The fire in my belly explodes, and I come, digging my heels into the mattress. It doesn’t feel as good as last night when Gage was touching me, but it’s enough. The lesson he taught me is invaluable. I can pleasure myself, have pride in my body and not feel shame.
Sticky, I kick the comforter off and breathe. The odor of sweat and cum wafts into the air, and I almost gag.
That’s another thing I’ll need to control—my reaction to the scent of arousal. Semen has an odor I don’t like, and I equate it to dirty things. I might always throw up if I smell semen and blood mixed together. Gage will never make me bleed, but maybe one day my period will just be ending and we’ll want to have sex. I’m going to have to be a lot more forthcoming with the details I can remember if I want him to understand what I’m going to be fighting against when we start fooling around.
Another dirty adjective to describe what we’re doing. I guess that’s the part of making sex fun. It is goofing around when you’re having a good time and you’re comfortable with the person like I am with Gage.
I shower and dress, and Ingrid is there holding the damn medication and a glass of water, always ready, always checking and double checking they’re the correct dosage, and always watching me swallow them all. The pills Jerricka gave me yesterday are still in my purse, and I’ll take those on my own before bed like she instructed. I won’t ask Ingrid to bother, she already does so much for me. Besides, the more control I have over my own life, the better.
Ready for the day, I trot downstairs. I don’t know who’s home, but my foot hasn’t hit the last step before I find out.
“Zarah! Get in here.”
Zane’s mad. It could be any number of things, but more than likely it’s because I saw Gage last night despite him asking me to stop.
I don’t put him off to grab a mug of coffee, but that’s what I want to do first. I sigh. Just get this tongue-lashing out of the way so I can enjoy my coffee and tell Lucille how much Gage liked her lasagna, though I think he would have liked it a lot more if we wouldn’t have talked about me dating other men. It made him mad. If I think about Gage dating other women, I feel sick inside. Which is better, do you think?
Peeking into his office, I ask, “What?”
Impatiently waving his hand, he gestures me over to his desk. He’s dressed as he would had he gone to the office, and maybe that’s where he’s heading after he bitches me out. I told him he and Stella could both be gone at the same time, and he finally believes it’s okay. It’s why Ingrid’s here, and Lucille watches my every move, but she’s busy cooking and cleaning and she’s not as in my face about it like the others in this house.
Zane sits behind his desk and fumes, glaring at his computer monitor.
“What have I done now?”
He blows out a sigh. “I know your recovery—”
I press my lips together. That stupid word.
“—affects all of us. It’s a journey we’re on with you, and I don’t ever want you to think I’m not on your side. When I’m angry, it’s because of this stupid and dangerous situation Ash put us in, and if I’m frustrated, it’s not aimed at you. But you do have to at least try to make good choices, and for the billions of dollars behind our names, I cannot fucking understand why you would do this to us.”
He turns the monitor around, letting me see what he sees. It’s the gossip website Truth or Dare, and the photographer I forgot about yesterday afternoon filmed me walking out of Willow’s building. The video’s captioned, Billionaire Heiress Zarah Maddox leaving after visiting Willow Black.
The blogger wrote quite the article to accompany the video, our sordid pasts giving her plenty of fodder to work with.
“She invited me to lunch.”
Zane explodes. “ She invited you to lunch. You do understand that her husband killed our parents, right? You haven’t forgotten that her son sold you, that her son locked you away and robbed you of five years of your life to keep his secrets , and I know you think you’re in love with Davenport, but never forget Ash killed Max.”
I tolerate his stupid list until he brings up Max. Blindly firing into the crowd, Ash killed Max, and because of him, Max will never write another news article, will never see his cat again, will never marry or have children. I don’t mean with me, but with anyone. “I know. But—”
“We didn’t talk about Willow. I didn’t see the need to tell you to stay away from her. Her husband and son ruined our lives, so, stupid me, I didn’t think it was necessary to tell you not to have anything to do with her.” He pushes away from his desk and runs a hand over his eyes.
“She let Stella go. I thought it would be okay—”
“It’s not okay. I hope you didn’t tell her anything of importance. The FBI has her apartment bugged.”
Resignation weighs me down. He’s not listening. “All we did was talk about what’s happened since the fundraiser at the governor’s mansion. That’s all, I swear.”
“You don’t have to swear. Banks will get me a copy of your conversation if I ask, but I don’t have to ask because you’re not going over there, ever again.”
I’m tired of Zane telling me what to do. I’m tired of not having control. I miss Gage, and I miss Mom and Dad, and I miss how Zane used to treat me before all this happened. Like I was just his annoying little sister and he loved me. The anger and pain builds up and I burst out, “ I missed her . She was like a mother to me. We shopped together, went for lunch together. She was always kind, protecting me from Ash, though at the time I didn’t understand that’s what she was doing. She hugged me, and it felt like I had a little piece of Mom back.”
Zane turns away, and I miss my brother more than I miss anyone. He’ll never treat me the way he used to, before Mom and Dad died. Roughhousing, calling me funny names, throwing me onto the couch and messing up my hair. He went to Columbia and we grew apart, and when he came back, he spent all his time working with Dad. After the plane crash, he fell into any bed with any woman who would let him between her legs, and if he hadn’t met Stella, I think he would have been more lost than I was.
Now there’s a wall between Zane and me, and I don’t know if anything can break it down. I’m aware I could be in recovery for the rest of my life, and if he’s waiting until I’m back to “normal” to treat me like his sister, to treat me like I’m human, he’ll never treat me like his plain old sister again.
He won’t meet my eyes, staring out the window instead, the bright sunlight gleaming off the snow in the yard. “Fine. Do what you want. I keep encouraging you to do some things on your own, and if this is going to be one of those things, go do it. I don’t care. I’ll tell Douglas you have permission so you don’t have to try to hide it from him.”
“Thank you.” I won, but why do I feel like I lost?
His eyes are wet and his chest heaves.
“Zane—”
He turns his chair, his back facing me, shutting me out.
I stand there, not knowing what to do or what to say to make things right between us again. I don’t know because there’s nothing.
A sob escapes him, and my heart beats a million miles a minute.
My brother’s crying and it’s my fault.
As fast as I can, I run out of his office, grab a coat, any coat, and dart outside and across the yard to the woods.
I need to get away. I need to hide from the pain I’ve caused.
Over the snow, I stumble, my jacket hanging open and flapping around my legs, my hair blowing into my face.
Nothing I do will be okay. I can’t get better fast enough.
I should leave and never come back. Let Zane and Stella live without me. All I am is an anchor around their necks.
I spend the rest of the day in the forest, walking through the trees, wishing the frozen temperatures would freeze my emotions and let me stop hurting. For once in my life, I want to stop hurting. When I can’t stand the cold anymore, I trudge into the house, expecting Zane to attack me again, but he’s gone into the city and no one’s around. Tears dripping down my cheeks, I pack a suitcase.
It will be better for everyone if I disappear.
“No.”
Gage frowns, and I step back. “Why not?”
“Because that’s the worst idea in the history of the whole world, that’s why. You can come in and tell me what happened, but you’re not moving in with me.”
“You don’t want me,” I say, my voice small. I thought running to Gage would be the end of my worries, but I was wrong. Not for the first time, unfortunately.
Baby pokes her head around Gage’s legs, and she looks worried. I pat her head, and she rewards me with a grin, her tongue lolling out of her mouth. She’s playful, not like the serious demeanor of the German shepherds at home. Well, not my home anymore. If Gage won’t let me live here, I can stay at the penthouse. The thought of being there alone terrifies me, but I’m not going back to the country house. Not as long as Zane can’t look me in the face.
“I want you too much , and last night, yeah, it was just last night, we said we would go slow. That does not mean sharing a one-bedroom, one-bathroom apartment that only has one bed.” He holds the door open, and I shuffle inside. He picks up my suitcase and drops it inside the door, the wheels clattering against the linoleum. “You’re lucky I’m home. I’ll always love a visit, Zarah, but I might have been working. Sending a text first will save a lot of hassle for both of us, okay?”
His tone isn’t accusatory, and I’m grateful for that. “If you hadn’t been home, I would have asked Douglas to drive me somewhere else.” I lift my chin. “In fact, I can leave now and tell him to drop me off at the penthouse.”
“I thought you weren’t supposed to stay there alone?”
“Things change.” I’m trying to be brave, to not let him see how scared I am. I ran away from home for God’s sake, and if Gage won’t let me stay here, I have nowhere to go. I mean, nowhere that will have people. The penthouse is kept stocked in case Zane stays there overnight instead of heading home after work, but he never stays in the city. He says he misses Stella too much to spend the night without her. I could stay there, sleep there, but I would be alone, and I haven’t been left alone since Zane brought me home from Quiet Meadows.
Gage doesn’t buy it. “Ah-huh.”
I’m a crappy liar.
I’m feeling a little more comfortable in his apartment, and I pull off my boots and hang my jacket up in his closet. In the living room, I settle in on his couch, and he stands in front of me, hands on his hips, his eyebrow cocked waiting for me to explain what I’m doing in the city with a suitcase.
“What happened?”
“Zane and I had a fight.”
He sighs and scrubs his fingers through his hair. “I hope it wasn’t about me.”
“No. I think I did something stupid.” It’s tough to admit that now, and I have to wonder if I would have thought it was, stupid, I mean, if Zane hadn’t reacted so harshly.
“Yeah?”
He looks good dressed in jeans and a plain black t-shirt. So many tattoos cover his arms, I itch to run my fingers over all of them, study each and every one, listen to his gravelly voice as he explains what they mean.
“Yeah.” I don’t want to say what I did. “Instead of talking, can we make out?”
I’d rather have him kiss me than look at me like I’m an obligation. Okay, he’s not looking at me like that, but it’s how I feel. It’s how I think he feels about me. If that makes any sense.
I wish I could drink. A big glass of wine sounds really good right now.
Finally, he sits on the couch, and I waste no time crawling into his lap. He chuckles and wraps his arms around me. “No. It’s probably better you tell me. It can’t be that bad.”
“I went to see Willow.” I can’t keep it inside anymore and I choke it out. If he’s going to be mad like Zane was, I don’t know what I’ll do.
“I don’t suppose Zane took that very well,” Gage says.
“No, he didn’t. He hates me.”
“No, he doesn’t.”
“I made him cry.”
“Ah. That probably doesn’t have much to do with your visit. He’s struggling with a lot of things right now.”
“I wish he’d treat me like his sister again.”
Gage nudges me back. “Then you need to tell him that. Zarah, think of the guilt he feels every time he looks at you. He thought Black loved you. He didn’t know what they were doing to you at Quiet Meadows. Every time he looks at you, it must be like a punch in the gut. You lost so many years, and he feels responsible.”
“I’ve forgiven him for that.”
“Then you need to tell him that, too, and maybe he can forgive himself. He’s going to hold you at arms’ length until he thinks he’ll stop hurting you. That could be a long time. I know if I ever hurt you, there’s no way I could forgive myself.”
“You would never hurt me. Not on purpose.” I sound sure because I am.
He frames my face with his strong hands. “That’s the worst part. When you hurt someone, but you don’t know it. I would die a million times over before I consciously hurt you, but there may be times I do and not know. How do I make up for those times? How do I apologize for something I don’t know I did? Zane’s protecting you from himself the only way he knows how, but it’s up to you to tell him it’s hurting you, not helping.”
“Use my words.”
“Yeah.” He blows out a sigh. “Willow Black, huh?”
“I saw her yesterday. She looks good, a little worn out. She said she’s grateful to Zane and everyone for exposing her son and husband. She told me Clayton mistreated her just like Ash mistreated me.”
“That might be true, but do you think it’s smart to spend time with her? Are you allowed to?”
“Zane would have said if I couldn’t—he would have used it to stop me from doing it again. I don’t think she had anything to do with the things Ash and Clayton were doing.”
“Sweetheart, she wouldn’t tell you if she did.”
It’s my turn to sigh. “Yeah.”
“Zane’s trying to protect you. He wants to keep you safe, and I do, too. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to visit her, either.”
I’m stubborn. My visits with Willow are all I have. Besides Stella, and now Gage, she’s my only friend. I want to keep seeing her. I want to have lunch with her. She’s a connection to my past, the only good one, and I treasure her maternal attitude toward me.
“Why?” My voice tremors. Going against what Zane wants is easier than throwing away Gage’s opinion. I want to please him and make him happy, but I don’t want to stop doing what I want in order to do it.
“Max asked me to look into what the Blacks have done to you, but I didn’t think after they were arrested there would have been anything left. I’ve been snooping around and I haven’t found anything, but Max was a good reporter. He knew how to investigate and dig up secrets. If he thought there’s something else going on, there’s a good chance there is and I’m lucky you’ve been okay. I would feel better if you distanced yourself from anything having to do with the Blacks. If you’re lonely, spend time with me. If Zane has to choose between the lesser of the two evils, he’d rather you be with me. Not a great argument for us to be together, but there you go.”
What he said makes sense, but I can’t give up that easily. “I’ll think about it.”
“You’re a woman and I know that’s the best I’m going to get. Come on, I’ll drive you home.”
“I just got here.” I turn in his lap, and my legs frame his. Our faces are even, and I love looking into his eyes. I read their emotions in the greenish brown flecked with gold. Annoyance, happiness, love. You can tell how someone is feeling by the look in their eyes. I like the gold sparks in Gage’s. They’re warm, like he is. Not his body temperature, but kind. He never told me he loved me last night, but I can feel it in his touch, and that means more than any words he could say.
“Yeah, and I bet you didn’t tell anyone where you were going, either. Douglas texted Zane, I’m sure, but you and your brother need to start communicating. Even if the conversations are hard. We’re going to have hard ones, too. About sex, love, and relationships. You can hate Black for putting you in that position, but adults talk to each other, even if they haven’t been sexually assaulted and locked up.”
I rub my thumb over his bottom lip. “You’re right.” I pause, debating if I should say it. It’s probably too soon, and if he’s not ready, I could destroy what friendship we have. But I have to tell him or one day I’ll blurt it out in an odd moment, and I’ll be less prepared if he turns me down. “I love you, Gage.”
I’m on my back in the time it takes me to blink, Gage’s arm under me, his other hand pulling my leg up over his butt. His cock is pressed between my legs, but his body is light, not crushing me. He’s smiling, our faces inches apart.
I pray for my heart to slow down. He’s not going to hurt me.
He touches his lips to mine, and I wrap my arms around his neck.
“I love you, too. Breathe.”
I must be white as a sheet, but he nuzzles my mouth with his, and we make out a little after all.
On the drive to the house, I sit next to him, seatbelts be damned. He wraps his arm around my shoulders, and I snuggle into his side. He insisted on driving me home, but after he told me he loved me, I don’t mind not sleeping over.
Baby’s sitting in the extended cab, and every once in a while she’ll poke her cold nose into my ear. Gage laughs and says she’s trying to flirt. When she does, I turn around and kiss her, earning me a big lick in the face.
Gage slows the truck and rolls to a stop in front of the house. Zane’s standing on the porch, and I’m out of the truck and in his arms before Gage can turn the engine off and pull my suitcase out of the back. He follows at a slower pace and sets the suitcase on the porch next to my feet.
My brother hides his face in the crook of my neck murmuring apologies I can’t quite understand.
Stella opens the front door and says, “Stay for dinner. It’s no trouble.”
Gage clears his throat. “I’d like that, thanks.”
Finally, Zane releases me. “Thank you,” he mumbles to Gage.
“I never want to cause trouble, Maddox.”
“Make it Zane. Yeah, I guess I do enough of that for everybody, huh?” He grins sheepishly, and I relax. Maybe things will change if I’m brave enough to speak what’s on my mind.
Gage joins us for dinner, and we have a pleasant evening gossiping and listening to each other’s stories.
Whenever Gage and I are together, I feel included in his life. I’m grateful for that because God, I haven’t felt like I belong anywhere, for a long time, and I hope the more time he spends with me, the more he feels like he’s an important part of my life, too.
Gage touches my knee and my eyelids flutter open. “I should get going.”
After dinner, we sat in the living room drinking coffee. At some point, Stella had decorated a large Christmas tree, and it sparkles in the corner. There are even presents stacked under it, but I haven’t done any shopping. The room feels cozy, full of love and family, and my heart plummets when he says he has to leave. I don’t want him to go, but asking him to stay would be inappropriate. Zane and I have a lot of talking to do, and while he was grateful Gage brought me home instead of hiding me, I’m sure he still thinks it’s a good idea that I date other people. I need to convince him otherwise, that’s all.
We stand and I say, “I’ll walk you to the door.”
Zane holds out his hand, and Gage grasps it firmly. Stella gives him a dazzling smile. It helps to know she’s completely on my side. I don’t know if I could butt heads with my brother if I didn’t have her support.
They go upstairs murmuring, “Goodbye, drive carefully,” leaving us alone in the glow of twinkle lights and the aroma of cooling coffee.
“Will you be all right if I head home?” he asks, brushing his thumb over my cheek.
“Yeah. Running away wasn’t the answer.”
“I’m glad you see that. Hey,” he says as we walk into the foyer, “in a couple of weeks the Chronicle ’s holding a dinner and presenting Max an award. They want me to accept it on his behalf. Will you go with me?”
I haven’t attended an event like that since Ash locked me up, since he sold me. I’ve gone to dinner in a restaurant, gone to that gallery showing, but somehow this feels different. Important. People will stare at me, trying to decide if I’m crazy. That clip of my breakdown at the Lyndhurst has millions of views. Everyone has seen my reaction to the man who kidnapped my best friend, the woman I would come to love as a sister. They all watched an EMT sedate me, secure me to a gurney, and wheel me away.
I never saw freedom after that night, not until Stella broke into my room and Zane brought me home.
I’m quiet for too long.
“I suppose you’re not ready to do something like that.”
Immediately, I see him bringing another woman, the redhead from the café wearing a slinky dress, showing her off to the other guests, meeting his family.
“People will talk,” I say, wringing my hands, wanting to go and needing to hide warring inside me, pulling me in opposite directions.
“Yeah. They will. You should find someone more suitable to go with, then. It’s for Max.”
The color drains from my face. I don’t want to go with anyone else. “What do you mean?”
He jerks on his jacket. Baby scratches at the door, needing to go potty, and he opens it, letting her bolt into the yard. “I know what we’d look like, and you’re right. People will talk and wonder why a woman like you is with a man like me. I get it, Zarah. You love me in private. It’s cool.”
Violently, I shake my head. He’s got it all wrong. “That’s not it.”
He steps onto the porch, and I follow without a coat, yanking on his arm. He shakes me off, and I swear to God, the world tilts.
“Then what is it?” he asks, his voice hard.
“They know. They all know. The men Ash sold me to—they’re in the same social circles. They probably bragged about what they did to me. Could you look at me over a glass of wine and not picture what they told you? ‘Zarah Maddox, you know her father cost me millions. Paid her back last night. She couldn’t stand up after I was done with her. Worth every penny I paid Ash Black.’”
I keep babbling over Gage’s long string of murmured expletives.
“Then they laugh over scotches and cigars. Their wives know, their daughters and sons. They’ll see me. See how dirty I am.” I shiver, but I don’t feel the cold. I’m standing in a generic ballroom, chandeliers gleaming and people whispering while they drink champagne. Mocking me.
“Fuck. That’s not what they think, and even if they do, go to the dinner, hold your head up, and look those sons of bitches in the eyes. You didn’t let Black break you, baby. You’re stronger than all of them hypocrites. Show them who you are. You’re fucking Zarah Maddox, and one day you’re going to rule this fucking city. I hope I’m around to watch.”
“I can’t do it alone.”
“You won’t have to. You’ll find someone.”
“You, Gage. All I want is you. You have to believe me. I’m mixed up, and I’m scared, and the only time I’m not is when I’m with you.”
He sighs and pushes me into the house, leaving the door open to watch for Baby who’s sniffing around his truck’s tires. “You were right. People will talk.”
“Let them.” I sound a lot surer now than I did before, but we’re talking about different things.
“They’re going to wonder what you’re doing with a guy like me.”
“No, they’re not. They’re going to wonder what you’re doing with a piece of tra—”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he says, and he crushes his mouth to mine. His anger is going to suffocate me, and I start to see stars. I struggle, and he releases me, shoving me away, and I draw in a jagged breath, the back of my hand pressed to my swollen lips.
“You are beautiful, and I will never let anyone say shit about you.”
“Then it’s settled.” My stomach feels anything but.
“Yeah, it is.” His tone says everything is far from settled.
“Can Zane and Stella go? They were close to Max.” I wouldn’t be so nervous if they were there, too.
“I’m sure Zane’s already been invited.”
“Oh. He hasn’t mentioned it. That’s good. We can ride in a limo. It will be fun.”
“We’ll have to meet there. Pop’s going too, and more than likely he’ll hitch a ride.”
I force cheer into my voice. “It will be nice to meet him.”
“He’s looking forward to it. Goodnight, Zarah. Sleep well.”
He kisses my cheek and slips out the door, shutting it firmly behind him.
I say goodnight to Ingrid who was up reading in bed, brush my teeth, change into pajamas, and swallow one of the pills Jerricka prescribed me.
I fall to sleep easily but wake up covered in sweat. A nightmare chased me all night long. Her hair was a gorgeous red, she wore a little black dress, and she hung on Gage’s arm.
He didn’t mind.