The Complete Quake Series Boxset

by Jacob Chance

  “Motherfucker. How could he be alive?” Derek’s voice raises catching my attention. He places his cup of coffee down on Kyle’s desk and leans back in the chair. “You stabbed him in the stomach.” He raises his thumb. “He was bleeding everywhere.” He raises his index finger. “And they found his body.” He raises his middle finger.

  What? His name is Zack and if he was stabbed in the stomach he’d have a big scar - a big scar like my Zack does.

  My chest goes weak.

  My heart races.

  My ears ring.

  I can’t breathe.

  “I’ve had eyes and ears on the street since it happened. Body or not, I’m not taking any chances. No one’s seen any sign Zack Weston could be alive in all these months,” Kyle says. His answer doesn’t reassure me at all. “They’ve searched online too. No activity on any of his social media accounts and no sign of any financial transactions whatsoever.”

  Oh, my God. What if my Zack is the one who did all the horrible things to Kyle and Janny?

  Calm down. Zack is a good man. He wouldn’t do any of those things.

  My mind flashes back to the conversation we had last week and what he said to me.

  “I was just thinking about how much I’ve changed since I met you. I wasn’t a good man before.

  Someday soon I need to tell you about my past and you’re not going to feel the same about me after I do. Until then I want you to know I’ve never been so happy before.”

  Was he trying to tell me he had done unspeakable things in his past?

  How could he be the man I love and a monster all at the same time?

  I quickly rise to my feet. “I’m not feeling great.” I place my hand on my stomach. “I think I might be sick,” I say. It’s the absolute truth. I’m completely nauseous. I bolt from the room, running to my office as quickly as possible.

  Slamming the door shut, I lock myself inside and lean back against the cool wood. My chest hurts and my breaths are labored. What do I do?

  I need answers and standing here isn’t going to help me get them.

  I hurry across the room and take a seat behind my desk. Placing my fingers on the keys to my laptop I take a deep breath. When I exhale, I log into my Facebook account.

  “Lana,” Kyle calls my name and knocks on the door. Shoot.

  “I’m okay. I’ll be out in a few.” I run my hand over my eyes.

  Zachary Weston. I say the name in my mind. I remember everything I’ve ever heard about him - every dirty detail. That’s why I can’t believe it could possibly be my Zack.

  I type in Zachary Weston into the search bar at the top of my page and hold my breath. A list of matches pops up and I begin scrolling through them. I’m almost to the end and just starting to breathe a sigh of relief, when I see the picture. No. It’s a much younger, clean shaven version of my Zack.

  I click on the profile, still in denial of what’s right before my eyes.

  The page comes up and I realize he hasn’t posted anything on it in almost two years. But I can’t deny any longer it’s him. It’s him.

  My hands cover my nose and mouth. “Oh, my God, oh, my God,” I whisper and then burst into tears. I’m so stupid. I believed everything he told me, no questions asked. He made me fall in love with him.

  What kind of monster does that?

  Immediately shutting down my computer, I slip my jacket on and grab my bag. I rush out of my office and down the hallway without a word to Kyle or Derek. All I can think about is the impending confrontation awaiting me when I get back home.

  The drive is a blur. I can’t concentrate on anything, but Zack’s enormous betrayal. My chest is on fire; my heart’s been ripped right out - shredded into pieces.

  Why does this stuff happen to me? Why do I always pick the men who can hurt me the most?

  When I enter our building my stomach is in knots. I hate confrontation, but I’m not going to let him get away with this. He needs to know this sick game is over. I’m not going to be a pawn for him to move around his life size chess board.

  Anger fuels each step as I stomp up the stairs. It burns in my veins all the way to his door and then in a blink it disappears. I lean against the wall; my legs are weak. I almost crumble to the ground. I can’t do this. I place my hand on his door and the memories of all our good times flood my mind.

  Guilt washes over me. I’m a horrible friend right now. Instead of thinking about Janny and the horrible things he did to her, all I can focus on is how good he was to me - how safe he made me feel.

  Was it all lies? Was I just a sick game to him?

  Anger washes over me. I pull my shoulders back and stand straighter. Squeezing my eyes shut, I knock on his door. My eyes pop open at the first sounds of the lock being undone. I feel like I’m going to throw up.

  Zack opens the door, his brow furrowed. “Lana, what’s wrong? Are you sick, angel?”

  I shake my head. Speaking at this moment is impossible. I push past him and he closes the door.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks looking concerned.

  “I know,” I spit out.

  “You know what?” he asks.

  Oh, he’s good. He doesn’t even seem shaken.

  “I know who you are Zachary Weston,” I shout, tears falling down my cheeks.

  He steps forward his hand outstretched toward me. “Lana, I.”

  “Don’t Lana me,” I interrupt him. “You lied to me. You used me.” I swipe the tears from under both eyes. I walk forward until I’m standing directly in front of him. I poke his chest. “How could you do this to me?” I poke his chest again. “You know how hard it was for me to let myself love you.” I cover my mouth when the words spill out of my lips - words I didn’t mean to say.

  He catches my hand and pulls me into his arms.

  I know I shouldn’t let him. I’m being weak, but I want to be held by him one more time.

  I want to breath in his masculine scent, until I can never forget it.

  I want to hear the pounding of his heart under my ear once more.

  I want to feel his hands slide up and down my spine then caress over my hair.

  I want his lips to kiss the top of my head.

  I want to believe the words he said to me were real.

  I need to believe the things he did to me meant as much to him as they did to me.

  “I never wanted to lie to you about who I was, Lana, but I knew it was the only way I could get to know you. Can I tell you everything I’ve wanted to tell you from day one?”

  I shake my head and step back out of his arms. “What’s the point? It’s not going to change anything.”

  He steps toward me. “Please Lana,” He begs, gripping his hair tight with his fingers. “Please sit down and listen to me.” He places a hand on my arm and looks in my eyes. “You don’t have to say a word. I just want you to know everything.”

  I stare up at him, hoping he can see all the pain he’s caused.

  He rakes his teeth over his lip. “Please,” he pleads, his voice filled with panic.

  I nod slightly, giving him the go ahead.

  “Let’s sit down at the table. Do you want some water or anything?” he asks while we walk to the kitchen.

  “No, Zack. I’m not here for a social visit.” I pull a chair out and sink down on it. I’m worn out and weary from everything I’ve learned. Dropping my bag on the oak table, I run a hand over my hair.

  “After the fight with Kyle in New York, I chose Kenna as my next target. I knew it would drive Kyle crazy if he thought I was stalking her. I saw you one night, when you were out with all your friends at Quake. I was there watching Kenna,” he says grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. He’s silent as he walks over to me and takes the seat to my left at the head of the table. “One glance at you was all it took to make me forget about my plan for revenge. I know it sounds like bullshit, but it’s the God’s honest truth.” He runs his hand through his hair. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you. You were so gorgeous
, so full of life. I had to meet you. I needed to get to know you.” He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “I started to follow you. I learned your schedule and everything I could about you.” He removes the cap from the bottle and takes a big gulp of water. I stare at his neck and try not to remember the way his skin feels against my lips. He places the bottle down and holds on to the cap, spinning it between his fingers. “I broke into your apartment when you weren’t home.”

  My gasp of outrage interrupts him. “What the fuck, Zack?”

  An expression of shame passes over his face. “I know, Lana. Believe me, I know. I needed a way to get to know you that wouldn’t scare you off. I paid off your neighbors and rented the apartment next to yours. I followed you to Las Vegas.”

  I gasp. “It was you in the club and the bar on New Year’s, wasn’t it?”

  Covering my face with my hands, I shake my head. This keeps getting worse. It’s like a train wreck you can’t stop watching. Only I’m not watching it. I’m living it.

  Chapter Twenty

  Zack

  “The rest of it you know. We got to know each other and I fell in love with you. Everything that’s happened since I moved in here has been real.” I say then take another sip of water. Goddamn my throat is as dry as the fucking desert.

  “Zack, how do you expect me to believe anything you say?” she cries. “You’ve done nothing but lie to me from day one.”

  “I understand how you’d think that’s the case, but I never lied about anything with us Lana.”

  “You never told me your last name was Williams? You never told me you’re from the western part of the state? You never told me you worked in finance?”

  “Yes, I did, but those are the only things I lied about.”

  She laughs. “That’s the problem Zack, you don’t look at lying the same as I do. Lies are lies no matter what motivates them or how many you tell.” She shakes her head. “I’m not going to tell anyone who you are.” Tears fall down her cheeks. “I don’t want to see you ever again. I want you to move away and I’ll forget the last few months ever happened. My friends will never know about you.”

  I always knew it was going to come to this. I don’t want to leave her. I want to spend every day of the rest of my life with her by my side, and make up for all the horrible things I’ve done, but she deserves so much better than I’ll ever be.

  I stare into her beautiful eyes for the last time. Green. Now, I know what color they are when she’s hurt. I want to beg her to forgive me. To never stop loving me. But I don’t. All I do is nod my head because I’m not strong enough to say the word she wants to hear out loud.

  “You’ll leave?” she questions.

  I nod again and clench my teeth to keep myself from begging her to forgive me.

  She pushes her chair back and walks off without a backward glance.

  I want to stay in my seat. I want to let her go, but I need to tell her how much she means to me one more time. I jump up, following her. I spin her around and press her back into the door as I connect my lips with hers one final time. She kisses me back her fingers gripping my hair. I want so much more from her, but taking her against the door isn’t how I want to say goodbye. That would only make her feel bad.

  Pulling my lips from hers I place my forehead on hers, and close my eyes. “I love you Lana. If you believe nothing else, please know that’s true.” My hands cup her cheeks and I kiss her forehead before I turn and walk away from her. I can’t watch her walk out my door, knowing it’s the last time I’ll ever see her.

  I spend the rest of the day and night lost in a rum and coke haze. I feel like shit when I wake up the next day, physically and emotionally. I hate knowing she’s so close by and I can’t see her. Being far away from her will be even worse. How will I make it through each day without the promise of seeing her to get me through?

  After I take a shower I’m feeling marginally better and eating a large breakfast helps to settle my stomach.

  Now that I must move, I need to come up with a plan. Where do I want to go? I can’t think of a single place that holds any appeal for me unless Lana’s by my side. Maybe I’ll just pack a bag and aimlessly roam for a while. I have enough money in the bank to last me for years.

  The more I think about it, the more I like the idea. I’ll just go to Logan Airport and purchase a one-way ticket to whatever destination catches my eye. Once I pack up, there’s something I need to do, first. Something I probably shouldn’t do, but when did that ever stop me?

  Pulling into the parking lot of Janny and Kyle’s building the first thing I notice is the smoke. Thick white plumes are rising from the ground floor of the old warehouse and filling the dimming, late afternoon sky. Several people are running out the side entrance in a complete state of panic.

  Fuck. I know Janny’s in there. I can see her car parked in one of the spaces along the side of the brick building.

  Exiting the Escalade as flames erupt through the windows and the smoke suddenly turns black, my eyes scan the people who’ve made it out, desperately searching for her face among them.

  “Janny Moore,” I shout. “Have you seen Janny Moore?” I shout again, but no one answers. They can’t. They’re all in shock, bent over, crying and hacking from the smoke in their lungs and their near brush with death.

  I hear loud pops and cracks coming from the building. It quickly becomes clear to me she’s still inside.

  My adrenaline takes over. I’m on autopilot as I run for the door. I hear strained voices, coughing and shouting for me to stop, but I can’t. I need to get to Janny.

  Flames are visible at the entrance. I must hurry or I won’t be able to make it to her condo before it’s too late.

  The heat is almost unbearable as I pull open the door and make my way inside. I’m overwhelmed by the suffocating smoke for a moment and I feel the heat of the fire all around me. It’s everywhere. Just waiting, patiently for the chance to turn me into ash.

  I close my eyes and see her face, steeling my resolve to move forward. She’s trapped somewhere inside this hell and I’m going to get her out or die trying.

  Within seconds I’m disoriented and can’t remember which direction I came from or where I’m going. My head is spinning and my vision is blurring. My ears are ringing from the high-pitched wail of the building’s fire alarm. The assault on my senses is maddening, but I need to find her.

  I’m beginning to feel it may be hopeless, and panic is starting to take over when I catch a glimpse in my periphery of the path I need to take.

  Crouched low, making my way around the flames climbing the walls of the corridor, I pass by the open door of Janny’s closest neighbor. Fire shoots out and singes the skin of my right arm. Fuck. The pain is impossible to ignore, but I swallow my fear and keep moving forward.

  The smoke’s getting thicker with each step I take and the flames have made the hallway nearly impassable, but miraculously there’s a small, clear area in front of her door. A good sign. “Janny. Janny.” I pound on the door, shouting her name. The steel is still cool to the touch. I try the handle and find it unlocked. Who the fuck leaves their door unlocked?

  I push inside and begin to search for her. The condo is clear but filling with smoke fast, now that the door is open.

  “Janny, where are you?” I shout.

  She’s not in the living room or the kitchen. Turning the corner, I push open the first door I see and find her. She’s semiconscious on the floor and her head is bleeding. I rush over and try to pick her up.

  “Kyle,” she whimpers. “I heard the fire alarm - I think I got up too fast. I got dizzy.” She raises her hand, touching the cut on her forehead. She’s disoriented.

  “Janny, can you walk?” I place my arm around the small of her back to help her up.

  She hears my voice; her eyes widen when she looks up at me. “No,” she screams as she stands up on shaky legs and backs over behind her bed.

  “What are you doing here?” Her head swivels aroun
d the room, checking the door and window, searching for an escape. “You’re not dead.” She looks confused as her hand instinctively covers her stomach. “Please,” she begs.

  Oh, my God, she’s pregnant. Things just went from bad to worse.

  Still trying to process this new information, smoke begins to fill the room.

  “Janny we really need to get out of here.”

  “What have you done?” she shouts.

  “I didn’t do this,” I reassure her, but even I wouldn’t believe me right now.

  I struggle to think of something I can say. “Janny, I did not do this,” I repeat, because nothing else comes to mind.

  Reaching behind her bed, she pulls an aluminum bat from behind the headboard. I can’t help but notice it’s pink.

  “Fuck you Zack,” she yells. She holds the bat up ready to swing at me. I can’t help but admire this girl for being a fighter in even the direst and life threatening circumstances.

  “Good, Janny. You keep a tight hold on your bat. If you feel the need, swing away,” I say, hoping she will realize I’m not here to hurt her. “But right now, we really need to get the fuck out of here.”

  She looks at me skeptically, but a bit calmer.

  I need to get us moving.

  “I’m going to walk out of here and I want you to keep that bat ready, but follow me. Stay close.” Turning, I begin to slowly move out of the room. I’m several steps ahead, already out of the bedroom when she appears at the door. She’s walking slower than she should be, but she’s following. “Ok, good. I’m going out your front door and into the corridor. You need to come with me.” I keep walking, and my prayers are answered when she continues to follow. “Once we’re outside your apartment we’re going to head toward the back exit.” She nods and grips the pink bat a little tighter.

  She follows me into the hallway, only a few steps behind, but we immediately realize the flames have completely engulfed the area.