Chapter Eleven
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Gage
“ W hat did you say to her?”
“Dr. Solis, I’m sorry, he barged right past—”
“It’s okay, Susan. I have a few minutes. It will be fine.”
Dr. Jerricka Solis smiles over my shoulder at the receptionist who hurried after me, her hands fluttering when I told her what she could do with Dr. Solis’ availability.
Susan closes the door, and I stand in the middle of Jerricka’s million-dollar office, the sun barely rising over the city. I couldn’t sleep all night. I know what’s coming, and it scares the shit out of me.
“I have no idea what you’re referring to.”
She’s a piece of work, this one. Icy down to her cold, shriveled heart.
“Zarah. She talked to you yesterday morning. I know she did, even though I asked her not to. After that, she hasn’t said one word to me. What did you say to her?”
Pop would be pissed if he knew I was here. He’d tell me I’m compromising a case, and maybe I am. Cluing Jerricka Solis in on how much she upsets me is only tipping my hand, and when you’re a PI, that’s not a good thing.
“I can’t tell you that. That’s between me and a client. If you want to know what we talked about, you need to ask her.”
“I would, but she’s not answering my calls.”
Today she’s wearing a navy blue sweater dress, and her hair is pinned up. She’s almost as tall as me in her leather high-heeled boots, but not quite. She’s expensive and rich, smug and arrogant, and I know without a shadow of a doubt she told Zarah to stop seeing me, and Zarah listened.
She smiles and tugs on an earring dangling from one of her earlobes. “You’re afraid you’re getting dumped. Will you miss her, or her money?”
“This has nothing to do with money.”
“It always has to do with money, Mr. Davenport. You don’t travel in these circles, though I know who your mother and stepfather are. You should be used to the way things are done this far downtown. Be happy with your truck and move on.”
“Then you admit you talked to her.” I grit my teeth. How does she know about my truck?
She leans against her desk and crosses her arms. “I might have suggested a breakup to her, but why would you take that personally? She’s stunted, in practically every way possible. Why wouldn’t you want her to date other people, decide without a doubt you’re who she wants? Are you afraid she’s going to find someone else? Someone better? Someone more in her league? I never would have suspected the Maddoxes were into gutter rats. Leave her alone and crawl back into your filthy little hole.”
It’s her skill as a therapist that she cut to the quick so fast. It’s exactly what I’m afraid of. I’m afraid if I let her walk, she’ll never come back.
“What do you care? Why would you interfere?”
“One thing you seem to have forgotten is that I actually care about my patients. I’ve been seeing Zarah for months. I’m invested in her recovery, and quite simply, Mr. Davenport, I don’t think you’re good for her.” She pauses. “She tells me everything, you know. Every single thing. Every date, every sexual encounter. I know where you do it, and in what position. I know you like to go down on her, and I know she likes it. I know how big you are and that it hurts her. I know you fucked her yesterday without birth control. I know everything because she tells me everything. When I say I don’t think you’re good for her, it’s not a guess, it’s not something I’m saying because I want to listen to myself speak. I told her that because I truly believe it, and if you don’t like it, you can cram it up your ass. Zarah is my client, and all I care about is her wellbeing.”
I stumble backward, her words cutting me. I knew Zarah would share intimate details with her therapist, but cold dread slicks my skin as I listen to our lovemaking being twisted into crass, dirty acts that don’t contain an ounce of love. In fact, I hurt her, and she never said. She’d tell Jerricka, but she wouldn’t tell me.
“I think you pushed her into sex, and you should be ashamed of yourself.”
I’m horrified. All those months of walking on thin ice, hoping to God I didn’t fuck up, only giving her what she asked for, what she wanted, what she could handle, and Jerricka’s practically accusing me of rape. “Is that what she told you?”
“She didn’t need to tell me that.”
Her face softens, but I don’t believe her sincerity.
“I’m not the bitch you think I am. I’m sympathetic, and I understand your position. But the fact is, she needs more, whether you want to admit it or not. Ashton Black stole the prime years of her life. She’s never going to get those back, Mr. Davenport. You know the saying, if you love someone, set them free, and if it’s meant to be, they’ll find their way back to you? That’s exactly what this situation is. Let her go. If it’s meant to be, she’ll find her way back to you. You’ll have to be patient enough to wait and see if she does. Now, I’m sorry, I do have a client this morning, and no, it’s not Zarah. You don’t have to worry about bumping into her on your way out the door.”
I lurch into the hallway, the soles of my heavy work boots catching against the soft carpeting. I kept my jacket on, and a clammy sweat covers my skin.
If that’s what Jerricka’s been filling Zarah’s head with, I’m not surprised she doesn’t want to see me anymore, and why wouldn’t she believe a therapist she’s known for the past year and a half over a guy she met barely four months ago. Everyone warned us we were going too fast. The first time she told me Jerricka suggested she date other people, I should have insisted on it. Then we wouldn’t be in this mess. It’s a refrain Jerricka hasn’t given up on, and Zarah’s listening to it.
Fuck.
I knew getting messed up with her would boil down to this. Only, I fell in love, now I’ll be in a world of hurt when she walks away.
Fuck it. If she’s going to tell me to fuck off, then I want to hear it. Today. Right now. I text her and say I want to meet because we have to talk, and she doesn’t text me back until after lunch. Pop and I work on a couple of cases, and I’m shaking with rage by the time she says she can meet me in the coffeeshop where I brought her to calm down after the paparazzi incident.
Sierra’s behind the counter, and she raises her eyebrows at me, tilting her head toward the other side of the café around the corner.
I jerk a shoulder. The place is empty and she’s going to hear everything whether I want her to or not.
Zarah’s sitting at our corner table, a large bowl of coffee sitting untouched in front of her. Without a coffee of my own, I drop into the chair in front of her. “Can you be quick? Baby’s in the truck.”
Tears fill her eyes, and I force myself not to cave, not to try to cuddle her to me. She might not let me, and the rebuff would hurt just as much as what she’s going to say.
“How do you—”
“What? You think I don’t know? That I haven’t been dumped before? The radio silence yesterday was all I needed, but at least be adult enough to tell me to my face.”
“I just think, you know, it would be good if we slowed down a bit.”
I scoff. God, it’s hard to keep my anger from spewing all over. She doesn’t deserve it. She’s only doing what she thinks is best—what Jerricka thinks is best. I have to remember she’s been through a lot, and Jerricka’s right, on some level. Zarah’s been sheltered, and she should see what’s out in the world before she settles down. Never mind I’d go wherever she wanted to go. That we could explore together. I guess that’s neither here nor there. With Zarah, it’s always been all or nothing. She gave me her all for a while, now she’s going to take it away and leave me with absolutely nothing.
It’s not like I haven’t been here before. I got through it then, I’ll get through it now.
“If by slowing down you mean cutting me off, then yeah, I guess you should. You’re not fooling me, Zarah. I went to see Dr. Solis this morning. I know your one-eighty is because of her. It’s fine. Listen to your therapist. You pay her good money to tell you what to do.”
She bites at her bottom lip. “Will you still come to Zane and Stella’s wedding?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Weddings are for friends and family, and I’m neither. Good luck, okay? I’m not mad. A little hurt it ended this way, but I’m not mad. I love you and I would have supported you in whatever way you needed, but that’s done and we’re over, so don’t you dare think I’m going to sit home and cry about it. You’re going to live your life, let me live mine.”
She nods and stares at her coffee. She can’t look at me, and it’s just as well. I don’t want to look into her eyes and see what’s there. A little love, more than a little regret she tangled with a guy like me in the first place.
I stand to my feet. I pause and take in her figure, so tiny in the chair, her shoulders hunched. “If what we did yesterday got you pregnant, I’m not in any position to negotiate. If you’re pregnant and keep it, I’d like to be a part of my baby’s life. But if you don’t want it and get rid of it, don’t bother to tell me, okay? It’s better if I don’t know. According to Jerricka, I was coercing you into sex, so apparently I deserve what I get.”
Her gaze slams into mine. “That’s not true—”
“Sure it is, but I’m a big boy. I’ll find a woman who wants it, the way I want to give it to her. Catch ya later.”
I leave her sitting there, and I stomp past Sierra who’s cleaning the espresso machine looking for all the world like she didn’t hear every single thing we said.
“Movie tonight?” I ask, knowing full well in the empty café Zarah will hear me.
“Yeah, sure.” Sierra’s no fool, she knows exactly what I’m doing, but she’ll go along because we’re friends and she’s a little in love with me. What the fuck, I’m a dickhead, so I might as well act like one.
“I’ll pick you up at eight.”
I slam out of the café and climb behind the wheel of the truck purchased with Zane’s money. The first thing I’ll do is trade it in. It won’t do much money-wise unless I sell it and donate the money to charity, but it will be a good first step in distancing myself from them. Then, after I do that, I’ll tally all the hours I worked on Zarah’s case and send any money back I owe Stella. I’m not on the case anymore. There is no case. Nothing to look into, and if Pop hasn’t cashed his check, I’ll tell him he can rip it up.
I text Pop, let him know I’m going to work at home for the rest of the day, and at my apartment, I change into sweats and take Baby for a long run. She enjoys blasting through the freshly fallen snow and I think about other things for a few minutes.
Thank God it isn’t until later, until after the movie, until after the bar we went to afterward to grab a beer, until after I drop Sierra back at her place and I’m at home, that it hits me.
Zarah and I are done. She’s got a whole world out there waiting for her, and she’s never going to come back to me.
I’m never going to watch her in the kitchen making coffee, or come home after a long day at work to her reading in my bed. I’m never going to marry her, we’re never going to dance under the stars on our honeymoon. I’m never going to watch our children grow up. I’m not going to have any of that because we never should have met in the first place.
I stagger to the foot of my bed, where Zarah had her anxiety attack, and I sit there.
Dry-eyed I sit there until the sun comes up and my phone is silent all night long.
I’m nursing a headache when Stella walks into the office, snowflakes glinting in her blonde hair. Once it decided to start snowing, it hasn’t let up, and we’ve had over twelve inches in the past couple of days.
Her eyes are sad, and she’s lost her spark. At first I think she and Zane are having problems, but she says, “Zarah told me what happened.”
I wonder if her version and my version are the same. I doubt it.
Shrugging, I avoid her eyes. “It is what it is.”
“You shouldn’t be mean to her, though. She’s having a hard enough time.”
“I haven’t done anything.”
Stella slides her phone out of her purse, brings up a screen, and shows it to me. It’s the gossip website Truth or Dare, and featured on their home page is a picture of Sierra and me last night at Old Jake’s laughing with a group of friends. She’s hanging on me like she always does whenever we’re together, and I look happy, not like Zarah kicked me in the teeth just a few hours before. The caption is particularly nasty. Does Gage Davenport have a piece on the side or is there trouble in paradise? Where is heiress Zarah Maddox? In the ladies’ room?
The article goes on to speculate what’s happening between us, if we’ve broken up or if I’m cheating on her. Maybe that’s what all those unknown numbers were on my cell this morning—gossip rags wanting a scoop. They can wait until hell freezes over. I’m not talking to anyone.
“Stella, you love her, I got it. But I told her flat out I was going to live my life because she was dumping me to live hers. There’s no way in hell I’m going to let you blame me for how she feels.”
“Did you sleep with her?”
My muscles tighten up. If Stella were a man, I’d lay her out on the floor for asking me something like that. “That’s none of your goddamned business. Zarah and I are done. You shouldn’t be here.”
She pulls a keyring out of her jacket pocket and unhooks my apartment’s silver key off the ring. “She wanted me to stop by and give you this.”
I toss it into the trash can behind the desk. “You didn’t have to bother. I changed my locks this morning.”
That’s a lie, and I’ll dig the key out of the garbage after Stella leaves. It sounded good though, and she winces.
“I know you’re hurting—”
“You have no fucking idea how I feel.”
“I know more than you think, and I’m sorry. She’ll come around, and she’ll look for you, if you wait. She’s mixed up, and she’s scared. I don’t like her listening to Jerricka Solis any more than you do, but Jerricka’s been a constant in Zarah’s life and when she offers an opinion, Zarah listens. She shouldn’t be punished for that.”
“I don’t think you understand who’s being punished. She dug my heart out of my chest and stomped all over it and you’re on her side. She’s done enough damage, and I think you should leave.”
She stands there, shifting on her feet, and Pop bursts into the office holding a file in his hands, Baby impatiently edging in around him to get out of the cold.
“Stella,” he says, fingers to the tip of his baseball cap.
“Hey, Linc.” She turns back to me. “She’s planning to spend some time in California visiting the PI who helped us take the Blacks down. If you’re going to party hard,” she says and pulls her phone out of her purse again and waves it in my face, “can you at least wait until she’s gone? She’s flying out after the ceremony.”
I glare. She’s got balls. I knew it after all she’s been through, but Jesus. “ She broke up with me. I’ll do whatever the fuck I want.”
“Gage—”
“No, Stella. I appreciate you’re here, but Zarah and I are done. You don’t seem to understand that. Her therapist told her to dump me, and she did. Her recovery is important to me too, so if that’s what she needs to move forward, I’m all for it. But I will not sit around like some pathetic asshole hoping one day she’ll come back. I could have been part of her recovery. I could have helped. Fuck, I thought I was. Yet everyone seems to think that if we’re together, it will do more harm than good. So we’re not together anymore, and frankly, I’m already tired of talking about it.”
“I’m sorry. I— Never mind. Delete Zarah’s number, block her, do what you have to do to get over it, but keep my contact information, just in case. Just because you two aren’t together anymore doesn’t mean this is over.”
“ This? There’s nothing going on. Pop and I looked into the girls who passed away, and there’s nothing shady about their deaths. My truck was a one-off. A pissed off case. Quiet Meadows is closed, and Zarah’s doctor is in prison. Ashton and Clayton Black are locked up for the rest of their lives. Stella, I don’t know what more you want from me.” My voice breaks, and I press the heels of my hands into my eyes. I wish she’d go away. I wish she would have left before Pop came back. Now he’ll watch me like a hawk. Watching for some sign I’m going to jump off a bridge and into the Renegade. If Zarah’s heading out of the state, maybe I will too. I’ve earned the break.
“You’re right. I’m sorry I wasted your time. Bye, Linc.”
“See you around, darlin’,” he says, but I don’t look up, don’t watch Stella step out of our office and into the snowfall.
“You all right?” Pop asks. His voice is hesitant. He doesn’t want to make things worse.
I sniffle and rub the back of my hand under my nose. “Yeah. Remember when you told me to be careful because when you marry you get her whole family? I believe you now.” I force a laugh and hope he’ll stop worrying. “We weren’t together that long and I wasn’t invested. I knew this would happen the minute we started dating. It’s okay, Pop.”
“You wanna come over tonight, order pizza and watch a game?”
I say yes because he doesn’t want me to be alone and I don’t want him up all night worrying if I say no.
I don’t mean to, but I drink too much and he asks me not to drive home on the slippery roads. Doesn’t make any difference to me, and I bunk in his spare room, Baby crowding me on the tiny twin bed.
The next morning I shove Wheaties into my mouth and pretend I don’t see the breaking news bulletin of a woman found in a warehouse in north King’s Crossing, her body brutalized and frozen naked to the concrete floor in a pool of blood.
Because it’s none of my business that Ingrid Flannigan never went to Chicago, and it’s none of my business someone tortured her to death wanting information she probably didn’t have.
I click the TV off. Nothing that has anything to do with the Maddoxes concerns me anymore, and I have other things I should do that will fill my time. Call me a heartless son of a bitch, but if you’ve never had your heart broken, don’t judge me for doing what I need to do to get on with my life.
But sometimes...it doesn’t matter what we want or what we don’t.
God, Fate, something in the universe, has other plans.
We can run hard, our lives depending on every step, but we’ll never outrun what’s hunting us.
All we do is die trying.