Chapter 28
Clara
My mind spun as I pictured the chart Zee created for me.
Each moment of the past few months seemed on repeat, each overheard conversation, each word spoken that tied the strings together one by one.
I’d been lost in thought for hours, head in Zeno’s lap as he alternated between idly combing my hair with his fingers and dozing on Paulo’s couch.
“What are you doing?” Zeno settled his hand over both of mine, pushing them down to my stomach. The movement was enough to jolt me out of my head, causing me to lose track of the line of thought I’d been following.
Tipping my head back to look at him, I forced a smile I didn’t feel. “Just thinking.”
“You’re thinking really loudly.”
Across the room, Paulo and Nadia chuckled. “She’s been perfectly quiet.”
Zeno sighed, then pushed himself upright before scrubbing both hands down his face. The movement jostled me, forcing me to either sit up or fall to the floor.
“He’s just irritable.” I pulled my hair from my face, combing it back with my fingers. “He hasn’t gotten much sleep the past two nights.”
Zeno scowled my way, but it didn’t stick. Soon, he was reaching for me, cupping my cheek with his palm. “I haven’t gotten this little sleep since…”
He didn’t finish his thought, but he didn’t have to.
Since me.
Since I was sick as a child and my parents found every possible reason to dump me on Zeno’s doorstep. He’d told me, our first night staying over at Arik and Sarah’s, that he used to hold me the same way he’d been holding Chaya while she slept on his chest.
He’d pulled away from me after that. Sure, he tried to act like nothing had changed. But I could see his thoughts flickering in his eyes every time he looked my way.
Guilt.
He felt guilt that he’d fucked me when he so clearly remembered me when I was Chaya’s age. Nothing I did made any difference. Whether I stayed by his side and helped him as Chaya screamed and cried. Whether I took her to the bathroom and tried to calm her with a nice bath.
Whether I tried to go down on him or slept alone in my old bedroom while he slept upstairs.
It didn’t matter.
Lack of sleep and dealing with a crabby toddler so her parents could take a much-needed break, had nothing on his guilt.
And it was me suffering for it.
Now, I couldn’t even think without him complaining.
“How is Chaya?” Paulo asked, as if he sensed the tension between us and was trying to shift the focus.
“She’s getting better. The antibiotics are starting to work. She’s going longer between her doses of fever reducer and is starting to eat again.”
“Good.” Paulo eyed Zeno, but he didn’t say anything as the man stared out the window, ignoring me like he’d done so much the past two days. “And Sarah and Arik?”
Zeno didn’t respond to that either, so once again, I answered. “Better. They’re both well rested now.” Zee let out a loud huff. “They said they can handle it from here. Arik even got back to work this morning.”
I tried not to take offense when Zee grumbled under his breath.
That was my fault, too, apparently. It was me who offered to stay overnight and help.
Me who offered to come back a second night.
I thought it would help Arik and Sarah and show Zee that I could be responsible and take my duties seriously.
I’d even left him at home yesterday while I went to all my classes like a good little student.
All that seemed to remind him of was my age.
I swallowed hard, turning my gaze toward Zee, only to find him glaring back at me. He grabbed my hand, yanking it from my chest and wiping the blood from the scratch on my breastbone off my fingers with a tissue. “Did you take your pill this morning?”
Throat tightening, I tried to swallow again, only for him to dab at the blood on my chest like I was nothing but a child. “You gave it to me, didn’t you?”
His blue eyes locked on mine, and all I wanted was for him to tell me he loved me. For him to stop with… whatever this was.
The world had different plans, it seemed. Zee’s phone rang for the first time in days, and he jumped on it like he was grateful for the escape.
“This is Zee.” As he listened, his brow pulled down and the corners of his lips tilted toward the floor. “Of course. Send me the address and I’ll be right there.”
“What’s going on?” I rose when he did, and it took everything in me to not fall back to my seat when he turned his attention to me.
“I’ve got to go. Jet’s got an issue and he needs my help.”
“Can I come?”
“No!” The sharp snap in his voice knocked me back into my seat. He cleared his throat and roughed his hand through his hair. “No. This isn’t just a doctor’s visit, Clara. It’s not safe for you there.”
“Is everything alright?” Paulo rose from the couch.
“It will be. It’s… Santini.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Lyndsey and Laney were abducted, and Nan was shot. Nan’s on her way to the hospital—she’ll be fine—and the guys are tracking Lyndsey’s phone, but they want me there in case things go wrong.”
“Then I won’t keep you.” Paulo shook Zee’s hand, and they both looked at me.
“Take care of her.”
Like I was a child.
Like I was incapable of taking care of myself.
“Of course.” Paulo squeezed Zeno’s shoulder. “Let me know if you need anything at all.”
“Will do.” Zee nodded my way, then, without so much as a goodbye or an I love you, he was gone.
Heat prickled at the corners of my eyes. I wanted to go home. To bury myself in my bed and curl around my little cloud pillow, to disappear into the nothingness I could feel myself becoming.
“Is everything okay, Clara?” Nadia was sitting on the couch beside me, my hands clasped between hers and a worried look in her face.
That same smile I gave Zee earlier was suddenly plastered to my face. “Everything’s great!”
I couldn’t deny the fakeness in my voice. Judging by her pained expression, Nadia heard it too.
“How would you like to go out to dinner with us?” Paulo asked. “You can tell us about your studies, how things are going with school.”
Would they hate me if I said no?
Probably.
“I’d love that.”
Nadia gave me the biggest smile. “Let me go get changed, then we can go.”
An hour later, we were walking out the front doors of Paulo’s building. I tried to focus on putting one foot in front of the other, rather than getting lost in my interaction with Zee, or in the details of that chart I’d been going over in my head.
I pulled my purse higher on my shoulder, as if keeping the papers tucked inside could help me sort out the families and the thread I’d been following before Zee interrupted me.
I tried not to stumble into Paulo’s back as my heel got stuck in a crack in the sidewalk and forced yet another smile as Nadia stopped in her place and reached out for my hand.
That had to be the thing that saved her.
That pause in my step, her kind heart stopping her forward movement so she could take care of me.
When the gunshots started, they ripped through the air right in front of where she stood.
Chunks of brick ricocheted off the sidewalk, slicing across my shins as others stabbed at my face and arms.
But more than anything, it was the blood I noticed. Blood that spattered my cream-colored dress before Paulo’s body tumbled backward and fell into my arms.
There was screaming, though I couldn’t be sure if it came from me or Nadia or someone else.
There were car doors slamming, tires squealing, and more gunshots before the sound of a car crashing into something bigger and more sturdy than itself.
Warmth oozed over me, coating my hands, my legs, my stomach, where Paulo’s head rested limply against my chest.
My purse spilled all over the sidewalk, my fingers slick as I fumbled over papers and plastic and steel for my phone. I didn’t remember dialing, didn’t realize I’d raised my cell to my ear until I heard a voice on the other end.
“This is Zee.”
Nadia screamed as she pulled herself off the sidewalk and got her first look at Paulo. More gunshots cracked in the background as I tore off my jacket and pressed it to Paulo’s chest.
Then, and only then, could I bring myself to talk. “Zee! Paulo’s been hit!”
“What the fuck—”
“Paulo’s been hit!” I yelled. “They shot him! Oh, God, there’s so much blood!” Nadia screamed again, but she was no longer looking at Paulo. “I need help! Zee, I can’t do this by myself!”
“Clara, where are you?”
“Outside his penthouse. You have to— No! Please, no!”
More gunshots rang out. Ronen, Paulo’s driver, fell to the street, his eyes vacant as blood pooled around his head.
I tossed my phone to the ground, grabbed the handgun I’d stolen from Stephano’s car before he tossed me on the curb the night he’d murdered Jayden, and left my patient on the sidewalk as I rose to meet my would-be killer on that New York City sidewalk.
Stephano had made it look so easy. Raising the gun like it was nothing but a toy, pulling the trigger like he was a video game character and not somebody’s son.
But murderers like the man before me didn’t deserve to live.
And my conscience was clear as I emptied my pistol into the man’s chest.
For a split second after he fell face-first to the ground, I allowed my gaze to rake over the street.
Ronen was dead. The shooter’s car had crashed into a trailer parked across the street.
If Ronen hadn’t gotten him with a bullet, there was little chance he’d survived the crash, as his sedan was now a convertible, and what was left of the front cab was on fire.
Nadia’s sob brought me back to myself. I spun on my heel, rushing back to Paulo and pressing my blood-soaked jacket to his chest. Sirens filled the air, and I prayed for them to hurry, because I could see the light fading in Paulo’s eyes.
“Stay with me, Paulo!” I yelled as my phone rang on the ground. “You have to fight. I won’t let you die!”
“Clara—” Paulo grabbed my wrists, but his grip was too weak.
I shook him off. “No, Paulo! I won’t—”
The siren cut out, and Nadia wailed as a paramedic pulled her from Paulo’s side. Before the one behind me could do the same to me, I leaned over him, holding back a sob as the man whispered one last thing into my ear.