3. Zoey
3
ZOEY
“Ma’am, you need to move.”
Zoey hadn’t heard the paramedic come up behind her until he spoke, but it was the hand on her shoulder that startled her. She’d been watching Paul’s chest rise with each breath and kept hoping he would make it until help came. Paul had helped her through the worst of living on the streets, and now he might die because of her.
The man Zoey had tried to shoot less than an hour ago continued to press his hand against Paul’s wound and talk to the paramedics as they took over the scene. She’d moved to the side so the men and woman could work on him, but she still gripped his large calloused hand in hers. Zoey hadn’t even realized she’d been crying until the wet tear hit her hand and dripped onto Paul’s. Maybe if she had stayed and not gone to the house, Paul wouldn’t be in critical condition, and Al might still be alive.
Zoe looked over to the side of the alleyway and watched as an officer took pictures of the scene. She could tell them precisely who’d killed Al, but Zoey didn’t know who to trust after Nixson’s men had destroyed her home. Everything she’d ever owned had gone up in smoke, including the only picture she had of her mom. The fire marshal had tried to say it looked like she’d left a curling iron on, which was impossible. Zoey had never owned a curling iron, but they showed her pictures of one sitting on the burnt counter in her bathroom. Someone had planted the evidence, and the police had done nothing to figure out the truth, even though Zoey had told them her side.
“Kate, come stand over here.”
She still couldn’t believe the man she’d shot at earlier had saved her life. Knowing the paramedics needed to do their job, she squeezed Paul’s hand one more time before standing.
“Thank you.” The words didn’t seem like enough. But what do you say to the person who saved you from dying?
“For what?”
“Saving me from being shot or hauled off to a torture chamber.”
“Anyone would’ve done the same thing.”
She looked from the paramedics to the man next to her. “No sane person would save someone who shot at them earlier.”
“I’m sane.” His lip turned up, and the cocky smile made him look even hotter than before.
“I need to leave.” The police would start to ask questions, and she didn’t know who to trust. Nixson would have someone watching the streets, so she needed to run. Every second she waited around was another second Eric could regroup and come after her.
“Do you trust me?”
“No.”
“Good answer—you shouldn’t trust anyone you just met, but you do owe me.”
Zoey squared her shoulders, ready to take on the man who was trying to blackmail her into something. She was done letting people bully her. Zoey took another look at the man. He was wearing a navy-blue polo shirt that was tight around the muscles on his biceps. His short blond hair was a mess from running his hand through it, but she wanted to see his crystal blue eyes again when she told the man off.
“I don’t owe anyone.” The words came out louder than she’d expected, and everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at her.
“Okay, Kate, you don’t owe me, but I want to help. How about after we talk to the police, me and you head to a restaurant for lunch?”
“I really need to go. I can’t talk to the police, and no to food. No place will let me in. I know how bad I smell. It’s enough to make me sick, but I have no food in my stomach to throw up.”
“Stay.”
She really didn’t like the fact that the arrogant man told her to stay like an ordinary house dog, but her feet didn’t move. Instead, she watched as the man walked over to another man barking orders. The sound of a groan had her tearing her eyes from the two men talking to the paramedics lifting Paul onto a gurney and wheeling him down the alley. She rushed to his side and gripped his hand. Paul’s lips moved, and she placed her ear over them. “Be safe” were the last words Paul said before the paramedic pulled her away.
Her eyes watered as she watched them load him up into the ambulance and leave. She wanted to go along but knew it would be too dangerous. When a hand touched her shoulder, her heart sped up, but she stopped herself from swinging and trying to take the person out.
“Didn’t mean to scare you.”
Zoey shrugged. “I wasn’t paying attention.”
He didn’t call her out on her blatant lie—it was more than not paying attention to everything going on around her. “Can I go now?”
“Normally, you would need to give a statement, but Officer Anders said we can come down tomorrow or he could come to my house.”
“Just like that.”
“Uh-huh. Now I don’t know about you, but I’m starving and could use a good meal. It’s been one of those days. You know what I’m talking about, when you wake up, head to work, and someone shoots at you.”
“Are you blackmailing me into going to eat with you?”
“No. I want to help you.”
“Why?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. Earlier, I could’ve called it a day and started to work on the house, but my gut told me you need help, so I followed you. Once again, my gut was right.”
Zoey was surprised by his honesty. She’d really expected him to make up some reason, but he’d had every chance so far to turn her in to the police. Hell, he said he was friends with the man in charge of the crime scene. “You listen to your gut a lot?”
“Yes, now do you want to leave and grab food or give Officer Anders your statement?”
She shook her head, walked over to her bag, and grabbed the only possessions she had left.
The man watched her every step as she walked back toward him. He nodded to the police officer. “Let’s go eat. How does steak sound?” he asked while he held out his hand for her bag.
Instead of handing it over, she held it closer to her body.
Without saying anything, he dropped his arm and walked toward his shiny Range Rover parked a few spots down.
“How about you go grab me some fast food, and I wait here?”
He studied her with a calculating look in his eye. “It’s been a long day for both of us. How does a shower sound? And then we can go eat wherever you want.”
Zoey nibbled on her lip. A shower… She hadn’t let her guard down and taken a shower in sixty-four days. It had been her last, because when she came out, half of her things had been stolen. Right then, she’d sworn she wouldn’t let anyone do that to her again.
When she didn’t answer him, he asked, “Would you feel safer if I gave you my phone and you could call anyone you wanted or 911?”
“Where can I take a shower?”
“My house, and before you say no, I promise not to kill you.”
Zoey couldn’t help but smile. “Isn’t that something a serial killer might say?”
“Maybe. I could let you talk to my good friend.” He let out a sigh. “I just want to help.”
“Let’s go.” I’ll probably regret those words later, when I’m lying in a bathtub of ice with a missing organ.
“Cole!” The officer’s voice rang out from down the alley. “Hold up for a second.”
“What’s up, man?” Cole asked, stepping to her side and facing his friend.
The officer looked at Zoey. “I thought you might want to know they took your friend to University Hospital.”
“Thank you.”
“Any time. I’m sorry for your other friend. Don’t forget you both owe me a statement tomorrow.” The officer said before turning back to the crime scene.
“Your name is Cole?”
They both turned and started toward the SUV. Over the last few months, she’d learned to ignore the looks of disgust from others, but it was harder today. Is he judging me like everyone else?
“Yep, are you going to tell me your real name, or do you want me to keep calling you Kate?”
“Zoey.”
Cole opened the passenger side door of the SUV. “Zoey fits you so much better than Kate.”
She shrugged. “Kate was the first name that popped into my mind, and I wasn’t about to tell some stranger my real name.” Zoey sank into the black leather seats.
“Well, Zoey, who has no last name, let’s go find a shower.” He shut the door before she could respond, but she wasn’t sure what she would have said anyway. Cole had been helpful so far, but she wasn’t ready to tell him her last name.
She watched as he rounded the car and climbed into the driver’s seat. For the first time in months, Zoey felt safe, which was strange, since she barely knew the guy. “Probably should’ve asked earlier but where do you live?”
Cole snorted and pulled into traffic. “I’m not going to kill you. My house is in the Terrell Hills area.”
“Terrell Hills is expensive. What were you doing in that rundown house earlier today, if you weren’t coming for me?”
“My partner and I buy homes and flip them once we finish the remodel. I purchased the house you were in today from the Bexar County Courthouse. I expected maybe a few squatters, never someone to shoot at me.”
“Sorry.”
Zoey watched the road as Cole drove down the streets of San Antonio. Colorful tattoos covered his arms. Instead of making her look at him differently, the cartoon images on his forearm added to his sexy edge. She wanted to run her fingers over the designs and ask what had made him decide to add the art to his body, but she didn’t want to be rude.
If she hadn’t been so scared after Eric found her, she probably would’ve kept running and not gotten into his SUV. She hadn’t figured out why Cole wanted to help her, but when he mentioned food, her stomach growled loudly.
“You don’t have to keep apologizing. Now let’s talk about something else… If you could have anything to eat for dinner, what would it be?”
She let out a breath. Her favorite food was not the question she expected him to ask. She’d tried to not think about food because she hadn’t even thought she would get to eat non-expired food again. “Steak with mashed potatoes—ohh, and a side of asparagus,” she blurted out.
“No dessert?”
“Warm apple pie with ice cream.” Her mouth watered as she thought about the last time she’d eaten a piece of pie. Last Christmas… Every year, she made a pie for Christmas dinner. Apple pie reminded Zoey of her mother, who’d passed away four years ago from breast cancer.
“Apple pie is one of my favorites.”
The rest of the car ride, they spent asking each other what their favorite colors, tv shows, and sports teams were. Talking to Cole was easy, and for the first time in months, she felt satisfied with her decision. Zoey relaxed back into the comfy leather seat. She felt safer than she had in a long time. How long will it last, though?
His house was beautiful. It had a perfectly manicured lawn with a splash of color from yellow flowers around the front walkway. Not only was the yard perfect, but when they walked inside, his house was nothing like a bachelor pad. Everything had a place. The furniture matched and wasn’t the usual black leather couch or single chair guys have in their bachelor pad. She’d immediately felt out of place—his house was clean, and she stank like yogurt left out in the sun for days.
“Cole, you can take me back to the shelter. I’m sorry I put you through all this today.”
Instead of replying, he placed his hand on her lower back and moved her down the hallway. They passed two closed doors, which she assumed led to bedrooms, before leaving the entryway. She saw a large open concept kitchen. Cooking was never her forte, but she might try if she had a kitchen like that.
Cole cleared his throat and opened a door on the left. “This is the guest bedroom, and it has a shower. I will go grab you a pair of shorts and a T-shirt and set them on the bed while you shower. They will be a little big on you, but we can put your clothes in the washer or order some new ones in.”
Tears pricked at the side of Zoey’s eyes. Paul and Al had tried to help her, but this was more than anyone had done. “Thank you.” Once again, the words didn’t seem good enough to convey how she felt. She walked into the bedroom and straight for the shower. She couldn’t wait to feel the warm water run down her body.
Zoey stopped and looked in the bathroom mirror. Her hair was so dirty, it seemed dark brown rather than light blond. Grime covered her pale skin. Not wanting to look at her reflection any longer, she turned and stripped off her clothes. Knowing a washer wouldn’t get the smell and filth out of her clothes, she quickly put them in the bathroom trash and tied the bag in a knot. She turned on the shower and stood under the warm water.
The dirt running off her body turned the shower floor brown, but she couldn’t analyze her feeling about how gross she was as fresh water ran over her body. Thirty minutes later, the water was still warm, but she knew it was time to get out and face the man who helped her today. Turning the knobs, she stopped the water, then she grabbed a soft-blue towel off the rack.
Opening the drawers, she looked for a brush to comb her hair. She couldn’t help letting out the sigh when she saw the unopened toothbrush and comb. It felt like winning the lottery. After her time on the streets, she appreciated the little things way more than she had before.
After brushing her hair and teeth, Zoey slowly opened the bathroom door to find a pair of athletic shorts and a T-shirt on the bed. The clean clothes were enormous on her emaciated frame.
Cole seemed like a good guy, but she’d also thought her old boss was a good guy in the beginning, until she’d returned to the office late one night after forgetting her cell phone and saw someone being tortured.
As Zoey walked back down the hall toward the kitchen, she heard Cole’s voice. “ I need more information out of her before I can call him .”
Her feet stumbled. Seems he might not be the good guy… And she had nowhere to run.