Chapter 15
Bonnie’s skin tingled where Zane’s heavy arm lay over her belly. But it wasn’t just her stomach that felt like it was on fire. It was her entire back, where his muscled abdomen pressed against her. The backs of her legs, which nestled with his.
She closed her eyes, a slow smile curving her lips. She’d had sex with Zane Merrick last night. Then the shower after…
Oh, Lordy Lord. It was all so good. There had been nothing slow or hesitant or awkward about anything they’d done—it had just felt right.
It was interesting that her family had wanted to stay with her last night, but all she’d wanted was to be alone. Then Zane had shown up, and suddenly, alone was the last thing she’d wanted.
She nibbled her bottom lip, nervous to know what he thought about the past few hours.
That could wait, right? If she slipped out quietly enough, she might just be able to sneak in a shower, maybe even some coffee before she faced him. That was, if she could pull off the great escape…which was questionable.
Carefully, she tried to ease out from under him. His fingers twitched.
She froze, nose wrinkling.
But he didn’t wake.
Maybe legs first.
She shifted her legs forward so that her body lay in an unnatural L shape.
Legs were free. Good.
But how the heck did she get out from beneath his arm? An arm that seemed to weigh a ton.
Slowly, she lifted her arm, which also lifted his arm. And yep, it was ridiculously heavy.
Once there was a small space between his arm and her upper body, she rolled away, leading with her hips, before slowly setting his arm back on the bed.
And she was out. She’d done it. She’d actually rolled out from a freaking Army Ranger’s embrace. Huh. Maybe she should join some stealthy military group.
With soft, measured steps, she crossed to the dresser. The scraping sound when she opened the drawer made her freeze. She glanced over her shoulder. Still asleep. Good.
She rummaged around her drawer for an oversized shirt and pulled it over her body. What she really needed was a full set of clothes to take into the bathroom, but she had zero faith in her ability to pull that off, creeping all around the room without waking him.
She lifted her phone from the dresser, and yep, she had half a dozen messages and two missed calls. And it was only eight in the morning.
Both missed calls were from her brother.
Quietly she moved to the kitchen and had just set the pod in the machine when she opened his texts first.
She froze.
Noah: Did you see the article in The Amber Ridge Chronicle?
Noah: Read this and call me.
There was a link.
She wasn’t sure why, but her heart started to pound, like she was about to read something that would change everything.
She clicked the link.
Zane Merrick: Military Hero Turned UFC Fighter? Or Criminal Who Got Away with Murder?
Air caught in her lungs, making it hard to breathe.
And suddenly, she didn’t want to read it. But she also did. She couldn’t not.
Her gaze shifted over the article.
To many here in Amber Ridge, Zane Merrick is a hero turned small-town gym owner. But according to locals in Billings, he has a past. One he’s tried to bury.
Less than a year ago, Zane Merrick was found standing over the dead body of twenty-two-year-old Amber Levado, the murder weapon in his grip.
Bonnie gasped, the phone almost dropping from her fingers as all the blood drained from her head.
No.
He had a secret, she knew that. But this?
Her gaze started to blur, but she forced herself to focus, words like “party” and “drugs” and “blood” standing out like they’d been bolded.
She skimmed down to the next part.
According to neighbors, while Merrick was out on bail, police went to his home to find a thirty-three-year-old man dead in his living room.
The phone dropped from her fingers.
Two? There were two bodies? One in his home, and the other at a party where he’d been holding the murder weapon?
“Bonnie?”
She screamed and reflexively grabbed a knife from the board, then swung around to him.
He only wore briefs. His brows were drawn together, his gaze going to the knife then back to her. “What’s going on, Bonnie?”
“Who are you?” There was a shake in her voice, and she hated that. She wanted to be strong and brave and firm.
He gave her nothing. She couldn’t read his features at all. “You know who I am.”
“Did you kill two people in Billings?”
His frown deepened, and when he stepped toward her, her fingers tightened on the knife. Somehow, he looked bigger. His shoulders broader. Taller and more…dangerous.
“Bonnie, put down the weapon.”
“Answer my question first. Did you kill two people in Billings?”
“No.”
Air rushed from her chest. Because she believed him. He wouldn’t—
“I killed one person. A man. In my home.”
She flinched. “You…you killed someone? In your house?”
“It was self-defense. And if you put the knife down, I’ll tell you everything.” He took another step toward her.
She stepped around the island, her hip hitting the counter. “What about the woman? It said you were holding the murder weapon. Is that part true?”
“What said that?”
“Is it true, Zane?”
A muscle clicked in his jaw. “Yes.”
Oh, Jesus.
“I’m not a cold-blooded murderer, Bonnie.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me any of this? Why keep it all a secret? We had sex last night, and now all of this stuff comes out? I feel like I don’t know you at all!”
Pain cut across his features. “I should have told you. I was trying to protect you. I’m sorry.”
Tears pressed at her eyes. She lowered the knife, but she didn’t move toward him. “I need you to go.”
“Bonnie—”
“I know there’s more to the story, but right now I’m hurt and angry and I need some space.”
For a second, he just stood there, and she was sure he wasn’t going to leave. But then he gave a small nod. “Okay. I’ll go. But before I do, I need you to know one thing.”
“What?” Her voice was almost a whisper.
“I’m not the bad guy here. You don’t have to be afraid of me.”
Then he stepped out of the kitchen, and she heard him pull on his clothes before leaving her apartment.
Air rushed from her chest, and for a moment, she didn’t move. All she could do was breathe.
Twenty minutes ago, she’d been on top of the world. Now? Now she had no idea who she’d slept with. Or who she’d fallen for.
That fucking reporter.
Zane pressed his foot to the floor of the car, far exceeding the speed limit but not giving a single fuck. All he could think about, all that consumed him, was finding the asshole and murdering him.
Bonnie knew. Only she didn’t. Because the reporter hadn’t printed the entire story. He’d only printed enough to make Zane look like a cold-blooded murderer. And he was going to pay for that.
It wasn’t just Bonnie who knew, though. The whole of Amber Ridge would have read the article. And if they hadn’t, someone would tell them. Nothing stayed secret in small towns for long.
He’d come here to get away from the stories and the gossip and the stares. He’d come here for a scrap of anonymity. The reporter had stolen that from him.
He pulled up outside the apartment block and climbed from the car. Just as he reached the building, an older woman stepped outside. Zane took the opportunity and stepped in before the door closed behind her.
He knew exactly what floor the jerk was on. And unlike last time, he wasn’t waiting around for him to come outside.
When he reached the second floor, he stormed down the hall and was just approaching the apartment when the door opened and Abe stepped out, suitcase in hand.
Abe met his gaze. The weasel gasped before rushing back into the apartment. But it was too late. Zane grabbed him before he could close the door, pushing him inside and slamming the door closed after them.
Then he shoved the guy into the wall. “I told you to drop the story.”
Real fear widened Abe’s eyes. “I-I did! Or I tried to. But my boss had a copy and printed it anyway. It was a slow news week.”
Zane pulled him off the wall and thumped him against it again. “I should kill you for what you’ve done.”
Abe lifted his arms and tried for a nervous laugh. “Come on, I was just doing my job.”
“The entire town thinks I’m a murderer!”
“Well…I mean…aren’t you?”
Zane threw him to the floor and took one step before the door flew open and someone grabbed his arms. “Zane. Stop.”
Ethan. Of course his friend had learned the news and come.
“I’m going to tear him apart with my bare hands,” Zane growled.
Suddenly, Ethan was in front of him. “No. You touch him, and you’ll just make it worse.”
“So what? He just gets away with it?”
“Hell no.” Ethan turned to the reporter. “You’re going to print a retraction. Write the real story.”
The guy frowned. “I don’t know if my boss—”
“You figure it out.” Ethan said the words slowly, like the idiot wouldn’t understand otherwise.
Abe’s mouth opened and closed. “And if I don’t?”
Ethan took a half step closer. “You don’t want to know.”
Zane’s jaw clenched. He didn’t want to leave. The rage was crawling through his gut like poison, and he needed to get it out. But Ethan was right. This wouldn’t achieve anything. And it sure as hell wouldn’t make anything better.
“You print the retraction, and you do it fast.” They were Zane’s last words before he stepped back out of the apartment and stormed down the stairs.
When they got outside, Ethan grabbed his arm again. “Zane, wait. Are you okay?”
“How did you know?” Zane asked, turning.
“The second you told me about the guy, I signed up for the Chronicle. Drove straight up this morning.”
Fuck, Ethan was a good friend.
Zane ran his fingers through his hair. He wanted to hit something. To drown out the frustration with some kind of physical pain.
Ethan stepped closer. “Hey. The town will care for a second, the retraction will be printed, and everyone will move on to the next small-town gossip.”
“I don’t care about the damn town.”
“Then what—”
“Bonnie. You should have seen the way she looked at me this morning. Like I was a murderer. Like I was a stranger. A mistake.”
Mistake…the word tasted like acid on his tongue.
Ethan’s brows flickered. “You slept with her?”
“Yeah, I slept with her. I slept with her without telling her about anything I’d been through. And now I look like the asshole.”
There was a small pause. “Okay. So she read the article. Had an immediate reaction. That’s all it was—a reaction. She’ll come around.”
Zane shook his head. “I should have told her. She told me her shit. I should have told her mine. I didn’t. I fucked up.” And now he was paying the price. “I need to go.”
“Zane—”
“Thanks for driving down, Ethan.” He dropped into his car and slammed the door.
He almost expected to find a group of people at his gym. Maybe some more spray paint on the building. There was none of that. It was quiet.
He stepped inside and moved straight to a bag.
He needed to hit something like he needed to breathe. It took him seconds to drop his bag, pull off his shirt and shoes, and wrap his hands. Then he started hitting leather. Pounding the shit out of it like it was the only fucking thing allowing him to breathe.
The reporter, Monty…it was like a fucking shitstorm he couldn’t escape.
He’d been at the bag for a good thirty minutes when the door opened. He turned to see Stetson step into the gym, phone in hand.
Stetson frowned at him. “Hey. I, uh, read the article.”
“And?”
“Is it true?”
“Part of it.”
Stetson’s frown deepened, and for a moment he seemed to think about it. Finally, he nodded. “Okay. I’m gonna put my bag in the changing room.”
“Stet.”
He turned back to him. “Yeah, boss?”
“You’re okay?”
“Yeah.” That was it. That was all he said.
When Stetson left, Zane turned back to the bag. But before throwing another hit, he pulled out his phone. He should give her time. He knew he should.
He couldn’t.
Zane: Please. Just give me a chance to explain.
He dropped his phone. The ball was in her court now.