Epilogue
Zena and Danger had gotten back in the car without speaking after that one. There was one more on the list for today, and by now, Zena was starting to lose hope.
“I think we should just buy a plot of land and build our own house,” Zena sighed, leaning against the passenger window.
“What was wrong with that last house? It had good bones,” Danger said, mimicking the same cadence as Donna.
Zena giggled, the frustration melting away. “It was bones for sure.”
“Look, if you want, I can get my contractors on the phone right now, and we can build a house from scratch. Whatever will make you happy.”
They were in a good place, still learning from each other. Still working on establishing healthy communication skills. They had kinks. Zena still held guilt for her role in his mother’s death, but without telling her therapist too much, she told her to take it day by day.
They pulled up to the house about twenty minutes later. Driving down the private driveway, Zena was already impressed from the outside. The house was a craftsman with a wide front porch, dark wood trim against light siding.
Zena got out of the car and walked up the brick path, Danger following with his hands in his pockets. The yard was huge, with at least 4 acres in the front alone.
Donna met them in the kitchen in a coral blazer. “Wait until you see the kitchen.” She said.
The kitchen was perfect. Open to the dining room, high ceiling, windows along the back wall letting natural sunlight in. The space felt warm. Zena ran her hand along the butcher countertop and didn’t say anything. She could feel Danger watching her.
“The primary bedroom is this way,” Donna said, moving right along.
They followed. The bedroom was large, with his-and-hers closets and crown molding. It also had a balcony overlooking the yard. Zena could already imagine herself sitting there in the morning, writing songs and sipping her coffee. But then her eyes fell on the pool just beyond the backyard.
She looked at it for a moment.
Then she looked away and turned back to the room.
“This bathroom has a Japanese soaking tub and a double shower.” Donna was saying, opening the doors, “This house has–”
“Incredible bones,” Danger said, from behind Zena.
She hit his shoulder. “Stop.”
“What? I know what she was going to say.” Danger laughed.
“Donna, ignore him.”
Donna gave him a professional smile and continued walking them through the home.
They saw the second, third, fourth, and fifth bedrooms, the office, and the finished basement that Danger said could be a recording studio.
“This house was custom-built by the owners in 1990, but they took great care of the roof and just replaced the HVAC.”
Back in the kitchen, Donna gave them space to talk the way realtors normally did.
Danger leaned against the counter with his arms crossed and looked at Zena.
“What do you think?”
She looked around the kitchen. She looked outside at the yard. The house was gorgeous.
“I think it’s the one,” she said.
“Yeah?” Danger stepped closer to her, wrapping his hands around her waist.
“The office could be yours. The basement can be a studio. And I loved the balcony in the room…”
“But?”
“No but. It’s a good house.”
Danger leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You want it, then it’s yours. You want to go break in that pantry closet?” He tilted his head towards it.
“You are nasty.” Zena ran her hand down the length of him through his pants. He was brick solid.
He kissed her gently, twirling his tongue in her mouth. Her hands maneuvered toward the hem of his sweatpants. He stopped her just before.
“Nah, seriously. I will put in an offer.”
Zena smiled. “Thank you for being patient with me.”
Donna came into the kitchen and interrupted. “Oh, I almost forgot to show you all the pool. It’s so huge and well-maintained.”
“No… that’s okay. We just want to put in an offer.” Zena gave a half-smile
Donna’s eyes sparkled. “Wonderful.”
Three weeks later, they had the keys.
The actual move took an entire weekend.
Danger had hired movers, and a few of his friends chipped in too. They spent the final Sunday morning packing up Zena’s house. She decided to keep the property, choosing to rent it out to a family rather than sell it.
“Be careful with that vase, Danger! I told you we can’t just put fragile stuff directly into the box without paper,” Zena scolded him.
“If it breaks, I can just buy you ten more.” Danger shrugged, tossing a stack of books into a crate without a care in the world.
Zena packed methodically, while Danger would just throw stuff into the box, not caring about what broke.
“Just do what I ask, please,” she sighed.
They loaded the last vehicle, locked the front door of the old life, and drove over to the new home.
They walked through the front doors just as the movers were unloading the living room furniture from the truck.
By late afternoon, the house was functional.
The kitchen was mostly unpacked; the office had the desk assembled, and Danger had already ordered a shipment of acoustic paneling and studio monitors for the basement.
The last of the moving crew eventually cleared out, leaving the house silent.
Zena stood at the kitchen island, brewing a hot cup of chamomile tea while holding her phone up, finishing a FaceTime call with Genesis and Amari.
“I cannot wait to come see the place!” Genesis squealed through the speaker.
“Just make sure that the second guest room is fully ready for me,” Amari stated firmly, leaning back in her salon chair on screen. “I need proper lighting for my makeup.”
“Mhmm,” Zena smirked, pouring the hot water. “Just make sure y’all bring a real housewarming gift. No cheap candles.”
“Duh!” They shouted in unison, making Zena burst into laughter.
They spent another twenty minutes gossiping before finally hanging up
Zena set her phone down face-up on the counter, stretching her aching back before heading off to find Danger.
She heard a faint clinking sound coming from the backyard. Walking over to the glass doors, she looked out. Danger was crouched down near the pool house, dressed in a white tee and worn jeans, aggressively moving a wrench against the valves of the pool equipment.
Zena slid the glass door open, stepped out onto the patio, and crossed the yard. “What are you doing?”
He looked up. “Trying to figure out how to drain it.”
She looked at the pool, then at him. “Why?”
He stood up, tossed the wrench, brushed his hands on his jeans, and looked at her.
“You didn’t want to look at it. When Donna asked if you wanted to go out there, you said no.
When I asked you the same thing after we got the keys, you changed the subject.
You talked to Amari about the kitchen, the bedrooms, the yard…
about everything. But you never mentioned the pool. ”
Tears stung her eyes. To be loved is to be seen.
“We don’t need a pool,” he said simply. “We can put a garden out here or a fire pit. I already called someone. They’re coming on Tuesday morning with the trucks to fill it in. Besides it’s a safety hazard for the baby, anyway.”
The tears spilled over, running down her cheeks. No one had ever been able to read her like him. He had been able to pick up on her silent anxiety without her ever having to voice the trauma out loud.
“I just...I didn’t want to be a pest.” She whispered. “It was such a nice feature of the house.”
“You ain’t never a pest to me.” Danger said, pulling her tight against his chest. “I am here to make your life easier. I promise you will never have to feel the way you did ever again. Not as long as I’m breathing.”
He sank to his knees, leaning his head forward. He kissed her flat belly. She was only about two months along, and her pregnancy barely showed, but he was already smitten with their baby.
“You good?” He asked, looking up from the ground.
She looked down at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck as he stood back up.
She was good.
She was here.
She had fallen forward, past the wreckage of the A-side, straight into the healing of the B-side.
Dmitri Malone was a dangerous thing. Not in the destructive way had the streets made him, and not in the transactional way his father had tried to shape him.
He was dangerous in a way that made him profoundly human.
He was patient. Considerate Attentive. Addictive.
Love, Zena had learned, was the most dangerous thing of all. Both sides of it: death and rebirth. But as she held onto him beneath the warm afternoon sun, she was y glad she hadn't run from the storm.
She nodded a quiet yes against his shoulder.
Danger smiled, lifting her into his arms and carrying her back inside the sanctuary of their home. He set her down gently on the edge of the kitchen island, his hands sliding up her thighs.
In one motion, he dropped his pants and slid into her, burying himself deep inside her warmth.
He pressed his lips against the column of her neck. “Welcome home, baby.”
***Fin***