Chapter Two
CHAPTER TWO
Zarah
I relapsed. At least, that’s what Dr. Reagan thinks. He told Zane they were too aggressive, lowering my dosages too quickly, and it messed with my head.
The minute we stepped foot in the house, Zane called Jerricka, explained we had an emergency, and asked her to drive out to the house. I barely remember her sitting on my bed, coaxing me to swallow a large pill, holding a glass of water to my lips. She tucked me into bed, almost maternally, smoothing my hair back and murmuring, “I shouldn’t have left you alone for so long. I’m sorry.”
I don’t know what it was, but that pill made me sleep for three days. That’s what Lucille said. I woke up just as confused as before, and my body hadn’t stopped hurting. The tumble down Gage’s stairs left behind aches and pains that still haven’t faded.
The night I fell, he called Zane. His fear and panic still cause apprehension to poke needles into my skin. Gage is so strong, so confident, I never thought I’d see him look so scared, and I hope I never see it again. He didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know how to calm me down. Protect me.
Nothing about that evening is clear, and maybe the night Gage and I spent together is lost to me forever. Dr. Reagan told Zane he suspected I had sex, and Zane punched my bedroom wall, trembling with rage. I was too woozy to correct him.
He knows the truth now, that Gage and I were exploring each other. That I was in his bed willingly, an eager participant. He didn’t ask for details, and I couldn’t have told him anyway. All I remember of that night are impressions, feelings. His lips on mine. Holding me. Love. Maybe Zane wouldn’t have thought it was such a big deal if I hadn’t smelled of sweat and semen. And fear.
Or if I wouldn’t have had two bruised ribs and a mild concussion.
Jerricka told me to keep taking the medication she gave me and a night like that would never happen again. It has though, but I’m too scared to say anything to anybody.
Like last night. I’m reading a book, just lying in bed reading a book, and all of a sudden I don’t know what I’m reading. It was like the words were disappearing, floating off the page and out of my brain.
It scared the hell out of me.
Or when Lucille came in holding my breakfast tray, and I couldn’t remember who she was or what she was doing in my room.
Little things I should know, but don’t. I feel like I’m going crazy.
No. Not going.
Like I already am.
Missing Gage doesn’t help. He sent me a pretty Christmas card, and I love looking at the picture he put inside. I propped it up against the lamp on my nightstand. Besides the card, I haven’t heard from him. He might have tried my cell, but Zane took it. Jerricka could have told him I don’t need it or that it’s not safe for me to communicate with anyone. All I know is I checked my purse, looking for it, and it was gone. I’m too afraid, too tired, too heartbroken, to do anything about it.
I probably scared Gage so badly he wants nothing more to do with me. No sane person would want to deal with my mental health issues or an over-protective brother. Gage would have to have a death wish to go head-to-head against Zane.
Most days I lie in bed and wait for my memory to flit away, holding my breath until wisps of what I used to know come back.
Stella sits with me a lot. Because of my accident, her parents didn’t visit us for Christmas. I told her to go see them instead, but she wanted to stay and that means a lot to me. She’s a buffer between Zane and me and I need her to keep him cool. He has his own rage and panic to deal with, and he’s scared. We all are. There doesn’t seem to be any answers, and that frightens me. I can’t have a future when my mind is like this.
When I don’t know what’s coming next.
I was doing so well. Reclaiming parts of my life, doing things on my own. Now I feel like I’m back to square one. When Zane brought me home from Quiet Meadows. Parsing out what’s true and what’s a lie. What really happened and what didn’t.
If Gage ever loved me. Truth or lie.
Tears drip onto my pillow, and I look at that picture through watery eyes. It’s true. It has to be true.
He just cut his losses.
Like any smart man would.
It’s hard not to feel bitter. One more thing Ash stole from me. The man I love. My future. My family.
We had a little time.
Not enough.
The doorbell rings and someone bangs furiously on the front door. They must be beating the crap out of it if I can hear it all way up in my room. Sansa and Arya start barking, but not growling. They know who’s on the other side.
I slip out of bed and crack my door open.
Listen.
Zane answers. He’s been home a lot more, watching me. He wants what’s best for me, but I resent it at the same time I need it.
“Davenport. I told you not to come out here.”
“Fuck that.” Gage’s voice. “I want to see her.”
I sag against the doorjamb. He didn’t forget about me.
“No.”
“Zane, let him in.”
Stella’s voice.
I hope I’m not causing problems between them.
“I told you to give her time.”
Zane.
“I have. It’s been two weeks, and I’ve heard jack shit. I want to see her. I love her, goddammit.” Gage’s voice cracks.
“Let him in, or I swear to God, I’ll leave with him.” Stella. She lowers her voice, and I can barely hear her. “She misses him. She loves him too, you know.”
The door slams shut, and I trot down the stairway to see if Gage is here or if he left.
I’m halfway to the bottom when our gazes collide. He runs up the stairs two at a time and drags me to him, holding me so tightly I can’t breathe.
Or maybe that’s my own relief because in his arms, oxygen isn’t the only thing keeping me alive.
He cradles me like he did in the woods the first time we kissed, but instead of bringing me up to my room where I crave time with him, he carries me downstairs. I hide my face against his neck, his cool skin and cologne calming me in a way that lets all the tension seep out of my body.
“We need to talk,” Gage says, and I assume he’s speaking to Zane.
It’s a good idea, necessary, but all it means is more embarrassing conversation. I turned twenty-seven years old last month, and I can’t make my own decisions. It’s humiliating.
“I’ll ask Lucille to serve us some coffee in the den,” Zane says reluctantly. “Ingrid should be there. We might talk about something she needs to know.”
We decided not to let Ingrid go. She’s always hovering, a concerned look in her eyes. Since I fell at Gage’s, sometimes she seems more of a spy than companion, skulking in the shadows. The idea’s ridiculous. There isn’t anyone she would be reporting to besides my brother, and he already knows everything. It’s my imagination and paranoia getting the better of me, and I try to control it.
I snuggle into Gage’s chest, his jacket rough under my cheek. I can’t put into words how thankful I am he’s here. He lowers onto a couch, holding me in his lap, and I lift my head.
Zane and Stella sit across from us. I was afraid he’d be angry, fury shimmering off him like sparks, but he sits defeated, his head in his hands, staring at the floor, his leg bouncing in agitation. Stella rubs his back, trying to comfort him.
Ingrid followed us into the room and sits off to the side—part of my care but not part of our family. I resent she needs to be here at all. Lucille pushes a coffee cart into the room, and she offers Ingrid a large mug. She looks more comfortable holding something in her hands, but Gage kisses my cheek and I forget all about her.
Lucille leaves and closes the door, and the four of us sit in the conversation area, the Christmas tree blinking bright, the presents still wrapped. We didn’t celebrate Christmas, and New Year’s Day isn’t particularly appealing either, just more weeks, more months, when my life isn’t my own and may never be.
I should let Gage pour himself coffee, but I can’t bear to crawl out of his embrace. He hugs me tightly, his hands bunching my pajama top.
“I want to know what’s going on,” he says, his chin grazing the top of my head.
“There’s nothing ‘going on,’” Zane says, his voice tired. “Dr. Reagan and I spoke. We’re weaning her off the meds too fast, that’s all. We’ll go more slowly, establish a routine. Keep her in familiar places.”
I won’t be allowed to go to Gage’s apartment anymore.
“Dr. Solis came out to the house. She looked at Zarah’s medications and brought up the possibility of increasing her sessions, which may not be a bad idea. Her mind is suppressing a lot of trauma. We’re doing all we can, Davenport, and I’m pissed you’re implying we’re not.”
“That’s not what I’m saying. What I hear is, we looked, he talked. What about Zarah? Are you talking to her ?” He nudges me back and peers into my face. “What can you tell us, sweetheart? How can we help you?”
I try to keep my tears locked away. They won’t help. If I want to be heard as an adult, I need to be able to speak like one. “I don’t know. I thought I was getting better. I was spending time in the city on my own. I was thinking about school and volunteering. Slowly start stepping into my life, but then I don’t know what happened.”
“Sometimes stress can trigger an anxiety attack,” Stella says, wrapping her hands around Zane’s. “When I get stressed out, memories of what Ash did to me come back. Trapping me in his building or throwing me into that container on that cargo ship. Have you been stressed about anything particular? Were you worried about attending Max’s award ceremony? Have you spoken to Jerricka about anything that has upset you?”
I think back to our last couple of sessions, and my cheeks burn. “We’ve been talking about dating and being physically intimate,” I mumble.
“Does that scare you? It’s okay if it does. It scared me, being close to someone after Ash locked me up for so long. I was lonely and I wanted it, but that didn’t change how difficult it was. Physically and emotionally.”
“I’m so sorry, Stella. God.” Zane’s eyes fill tears, and he turns away until he finds control. She presses a kiss to his shoulder, what’d done forgiven a long time ago.
“I didn’t think it was. Gage has been so kind and understanding that way. We only do what I’m comfortable doing, and I’ve never felt pressured.”
“That’s a good start, but no matter how much you love each other and need the connection, maybe it’s better to slow down.” She sighs. “I feel like a hypocrite saying it—Zane and I were anything but slow—but Zarah’s and my histories are not the same. We were, and still are, dealing with very different things.” Glancing at Gage, she finishes, “I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re right. Maybe I was rushing her, and if I was, I have no problem admitting it. But I’m not going to stop seeing her, unless that’s what she wants,” he finishes softly.
I shake my head, pushing back a rush of panic. I can’t lose him over this. “No. I don’t want to stop.”
He nuzzles my cheek with his nose. “Good. Then where do we go from here?”
Steady now, Zane says, “More therapy, less time in the city, and never alone. Dr. Solis recommends structure, a schedule. Even if she’s staying home, ask her to shower and dress. Give her duties around the house. Walk with her outside.”
He ticks off the things Jerricka told him, and my heart falls to my feet. It sounds so much like my time at Quiet Meadows. The same thing hour after hour. The days blurring into months, the months blurring into years until one day I don’t know what day it is, or how old I am, or if I’ve seen anyone, talked to anyone, but the nurses who come into my room to drug me up.
The desolation would slowly kill me, and tears drip down my cheeks.
“I don’t care how much medication she’s still on. She’s not a fucking zombie and needs more than that,” Gage says between clenched teeth, his fingers digging into my arm.
“Then what do you suggest?” Zane’s tone is icy. “I didn’t realize you had a degree in psychiatry.”
“Zane,” Stella chides. “He wants her to get better just as much as we do.”
He blows out a breath. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“Stop being an ass, and you can stop apologizing,” she says and turns to me. “ I think Gage is right, too. You need more. A prison is still a prison even if it’s your home. You had nothing more than an anxiety attack and we already think it’s because of the decrease in your meds and maybe you and Gage going too fast. In therapy, you can focus more on what Ash made you do, and then share those things with Gage. It will help you and him move forward. What do you think, sweetie?”
I like she thinks all I had was an anxiety attack, but I should tell everyone the truth. That my memory lapses have gotten worse when they should be getting better, that there are times I don’t remember anything about who I am or what my life consists of. So far, I haven’t forgotten her or Zane, but that doesn’t mean I won’t. Realistically, I know it’s not safe for me to go anywhere. Jerricka’s right. I probably shouldn’t leave the house, not even to walk the dogs. I’ll be like one of those Alzheimer patients we see on the news, lost and wandering until they freeze to death.
But if I tell them what’s really happening to me, Zane will worry more and Stella will stop advocating for my freedom. I don’t want to hide. I’ll simply be more careful and never leave the house alone. Better yet, I’ll do things with Gage. He might not have all the answers he wanted, but he knows more than he did before he pushed his way into the house.
“Okay, but it hurts to remember.”
I’m still sitting in Gage’s lap, and Stella slides off the couch cushion and kneels in front of me. “I know it does. I think of the five years Ash kept me a prisoner, and how much I missed Zane. I think about Ash trying to kill me, hurting Quinn in the process, and how he took Maryanne away from me. Ash let those men do horrible things to you, and if you can talk about it, then maybe you can put everything in a little box, tie it up tight, and never have to open it again. Zane talks me through things when life feels overwhelming.” She pauses. “If you don’t want to talk to Jerricka, talk to me or Gage.”
The thought of confronting the past exhausts me, this conversation has exhausted me, and I slump against Gage’s chest. We might have gotten things out into the open, but it didn’t accomplish anything.
I still feel like I am literally losing my mind.
“I’ll think about it. Thanks.”
“Okay.” She pats my arm, and after a second thought, hugs me. Her hair smells like the vanilla conditioner she likes, and I breathe in the comforting scent.
“You came for me.”
She rocks, and I’m uncomfortable, half in her arms, half in Gage’s lap, the awkward angle burning my ribs.
“I’d do it again a million times,” she whispers into my ear. “You’re my sister and I’ll do anything for you. Just ask.” She leans away and brushes the hair away from my face. “We’ll let you talk.”
Zane opens his mouth to protest, but Stella pulls on his hand. Ingrid leaves too, and the room’s quiet. It’s just me and Gage, and all the shit I’ve caused because I can’t take care of myself.
“I’m sorry.” I crawl out of his lap, tuck myself into the corner of the couch, and drag a pillow into my lap.
“No, I am.” He stands and unzips his jacket. Tossing it onto the couch Zane and Stella were just sitting on, he says, “Zane’s probably right. We wouldn’t be in this mess if we had gone slower. I’m sorry, Zarah. I was too damned excited to be with you to think about what you needed from me.”
“That’s not true. All you’ve done is what I’ve asked you to do. Less. I would have made love to you that night, but you knew I wasn’t ready and you stopped me. I don’t know how much more you could give me. All I know is I need you. These past two weeks have been hell. I didn’t know if you were giving up on me, if I would ever see you again. Zane took my cell phone, or I would have called. I tell myself I would have, but I was scared of what you’d say.” I wipe tears off my cheeks.
“Sweetheart, I don’t want to be bad for you. If your setback is my fault, I should leave you alone.”
His words send a shudder of dread through my body. “No! That would hurt more than anything you could ever do to me.”
I press my face into the pillow, and howling, I let out all my grief. I feel safe with him, safe to be who I am. And right now that’s a sad, lost little girl who would lose everything if the man she loves walked out the door.
Gage sits on the couch, and I push him back, my tears dripping onto his shirt. He lies against a decorative pillow, and I cover his body with mine, wiggling against him. I need to be as close to him as possible.
Sighing, he wraps his arms around me. “I don’t want to leave you alone, either. I love you, and these past two weeks have been hell for me, too. I don’t know what’s right, what’s wrong, what’s up, or what’s down. All I do know is Zane and I need to work together to get you better. He’s been talking to your doctors, not me, and I shouldn’t fight against him. If your doctors recommend we slow down, then we have no choice. I’ll start bringing Baby out to run in the woods. You’ll be in city to go to your therapy sessions and we can have lunch. We’ll still see each other.”
My heart starts to hammer. We can still see each other, sterile dates and chaste kisses, but it won’t be enough. “I need more,” I beg against his lips. “I need more.”
He opens his mouth, and I slip my tongue between his teeth, his familiar flavor a balm soothing the burning fear I’ve lived with during the weeks without him. He fists my hair, angling my head, allowing him to deepen the kiss, and I gladly let him. Anything to keep him close, to keep him from giving up on me. I press against his cock, and it’s hard under the fly of his jeans.
I want him right here, right now. If we make love, maybe he’ll never leave me. In the back of my mind, I think that’s stupid, but I can’t stop myself from offering, just like Jerricka talked about in her office. Offer, offer something I might not be ready to give, if it will only keep him with me.
Furiously, I grind against him, and he squeezes my butt, lapping at my mouth.
He wants me, and I reach for the button of his jeans.
“No. No, Zarah.” He yanks away and gulps in air through his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut. “No. Even if I didn’t think it would hurt you, we can’t make love in your living room. It’s not romantic, and it’s disrespectful to the other people in this house.” Gage cups my face in his hands. There’s no recrimination in his eyes, only regret he has to stop. “I want it more than you know, but now isn’t the time.”
Defeated, I rest my head on his chest. I know sex won’t make him stay, not if he really wanted to go, but like thousands of women before me, I thought, no hoped , maybe, maybe it would. “One day you’re going to leave me. You’ll get tired of who I am, who Ash turned me into, and leave.”
Gage forces me to look at him and searches my eyes. “The person you are, right now, is the woman I love. When all this is over, say you’ll marry me. You would never break a promise, would you? Marry me, Zarah. A little ceremony. Just you and me, Zane and Stella. Lucille. Pop. Baby. I’ll promise you my life in front of the only people who matter.”
“Yes,” I whisper. “Yes.”
I let our promises soothe me. They’re all I have, and I wrap his words around my heart, even after he leaves, even after I swallow the medication Jerricka insists I need to get better, even as I lie in the dark hoping to sleep because my reality has turned scarier than any nightmare I could ever have.