Toby shook it off and barreled into Zane’s middle.
Holding steady like the rock he was, Zane didn’t even falter. Driving his elbow into the guy’s back, Toby squealed and dropped to the ground.
Struggling to stand, Toby called out, “Sienna, get your ass home.”
Rising to his hands and knees, his limbs shuddered beneath him. He looked up at Zane and sneered. Blood-stained saliva dripped down his chin and landing in the dust, sharp gravel digging into his palms and knees. Struggling to get to his feet, his limbs shook beneath him. “Sienna. Get in the truck. Let’s go,” he muttered.
She shook her head, not daring to come closer. “Not today.”
Zane stood with his hands on his hips. “Cops are on the way. I suggest you stay on the ground.”
“Fuck you,” he muttered and grabbed the open truck door to pull himself to his feet.
Grabbing Toby’s arm and twisting it behind his back, Zane asked again, “Not kidding.” Wrenching his shoulder nearly out of its socket, Zane growled, “I said down.”
Squealing as his shoulder bent beyond what should be possible, just shy of shattering, Toby dropped to his knees.
Shaking his head, Zane sighed. “I didn’t sleep with your wife you fucking moron. I was trying to offer to kick your ass before you killed her with your stupidity.”
Not giving an inch, Zane pinned him to the ground, his foot unmoving from Toby’s shoulder. Plastered to the ground, Toby grumbled.
Freya rose from behind the truck and took in the scene.
Sienna cried out, repeating, “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.” She flipped her head back and forth, her gaze landing on Toby, her feet locked in place across the drive.
Craig and Susan stood shellshocked, unsure whether to run out or stay put.
Freya rubbed some life back into her arm after tucking her phone back into her pocket and came out from behind Zane’s truck. “Cops should be here…” she heard the sirens in the distance, exhaling a heavy sigh of relief. “Any second.”
Toby writhed, but whimpered and quit when he realized he was only making it worse. Zane wasn't giving him an inch.
Shaking her head, she crossed to Zane. Still unmoving, Zane granted Freya a sly grin.
Leaving him to stand guard over his prisoner, she turned to check on Sienna. Craig and Susan were now at the foot of the stairs together, arm in arm and watching their son’s every movement, both a little red-eyed.
Freya stopped a few feet from Sienna. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. What about you?” Sienna winced as she took a deep breath and motioned to Freya’s arm, the hand-shaped bruise already starting to shine.
“I’m okay.” She wanted to wrap her arms around the overly calm woman and tell her it was okay to stomp and scream and maybe even kick her lousy husband.
“Do you have someplace you can go?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I have a few friends that have been offering.”
“Good. If you need anything, don’t be a stranger.”
Despite the bruised eye that was rapidly spreading to her entire cheek, Sienna smiled and nodded.
A cluster of police cars filed in. The officers took in the scene as they stepped out of their cars.
Zane nodded from his post, “All clear.”
Chief Larson came straight to Sienna. “Are you okay?” he asked while the other officers ran toward Zane and Toby.
She nodded. “I’m fine.”
More lights flashed down the driveway. Jonah rested his hands on his hips, “I’m glad. I’ll let the paramedics check you out. Then, would you mind chatting with me about what happened?”
“Yes. I know I should have listened sooner, I just…”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s over now. Right?”
She nodded, “I’m done.”
He gave Sienna a polite nod, then to Freya, “I’d heard you were back in town. This is your grandpa’s old place, right?”
“Yeah, I’m staying in the apartment over the garage.” Why did she say that? She was living in the house, for the moment.
He nodded to Zane, “Friend of yours?”
She smiled, “Yes. Zane is a SEAL buddy of Asher’s.”
He grinned. “These guys are handy to have around.” Trotting toward Zane, Jonah threw out his hand to introduce himself now that Zane’s hands were free, Toby in cuffs and being escorted to one of the police cars. Zane was so calm, so at ease despite everything that had happened. She was nauseous from the adrenaline letting down, but Zane looked like this was an easy stroll in the park.
The ambulance pulled in and Sienna said to Freya, “Thanks again. Really. Your husband, he’s a good guy. Those are hard to find.”
“I know. Look, you take care of yourself, okay?”
“I will. Please, come on over to Larissa’s sometime for some pie. My treat this time.” She crossed the driveway, her spine straight and her head held high, despite her hand gripping her ribs and the hitch in every step as she approached the paramedics that were already heading her way.
One of the police officers was talking with Susan and Craig, Jonah still chatted with Zane, and the others were already stuffing Toby into the squad car, one paramedic strolling over to check on him. Freya stuffed her hands in her pockets, her focus homing in on Zane. He was warming up, a full smile on his face when she reached his side.
As she neared, he stepped close and wrapped his arm around her, tucking her against him. “No, uh, thanks though. Asher already tried to convince me to join you guys. Not interested.”
Jonah laughed with him, “Worth a shot.”
Freya melted into Zane’s side as her adrenaline plummeted. Her legs about crumpled beneath her. This may be routine for him, but the fear of losing him was entirely new to her.
He planted a kiss on her temple, then nodded to Jonah, “Are we good here? I mean, you can swing by anytime if you need anything, but we were just heading out for a walk.”
Gaze notably falling at the bling on each of their left ring fingers, Jonah nodded to Freya, the corner of his mouth teasing up. “You know, my mother is about the biggest gossip in town and does Zumba with Tammy. I can’t believe I didn’t know you’d gotten married.”
She shoved her left hand into her pocket. “Well, I mean…”
Zane cleared his throat, but didn’t say anything.
“It’s a really long story,” she bit her lip as it wavered between laughing and crying.
“Well, congratulations either way. You guys can head on your way and I’ll swing by or give you a call sometime in the next few days.”
Zane linked hands with Freya and they walked over to his stunned parents. As soon as they saw him approaching, Susan and Craig leaped over and wrapped their arms around them both, passing back and forth with emotional hugs and tears. Fingers laced together, Zane didn’t let go of Freya.
Susan released Zane long enough to let Craig have a turn, then hugged him again before wiping a juicy tear from her cheek. “I guess I…”
Craig nodded, standing back and taking in the scene, the blood on the gravel, the tow truck coming down the driveway for the truck, the police cars clearing out. “That was something else. I… you…”
Zane stepped out of their grip and nodding to the driveway. “Let’s go for that walk.”
Susan shook her head, “But Zane, you, and that…”
He shrugged. “Yeah. That. We could go back inside and hash and rehash and I could explain that’s the sort of shit I did the last twelve years of my life, but honestly? I’d rather get some fresh air.”
Turning, Zane looked at Freya with a heavy hopefulness. “Sound okay? Feel up to a walk with me?” His shirt was rumpled from the fight, his hair spiked rebelliously, an adoring glimmer in his look that said everything she wished he’d say.
She nodded. “Anytime.” Heart breaking a little more as he chipped away at her armor, she rose to press her lips to his. Breathless, she leaned her forehead against his.
&n
bsp; She wanted to say everything that should be said, to ignore the fear that caged her heart, but she couldn’t do that to him. A romantic, he would agree. And then six months from now? When the thrill of the pheromones faded?
The marriage would be over in two days. How in the hell was she going to stand in front of a judge and say she didn’t love him, she didn’t want to stay married to him, and that she regretted the drunken mistake?
Zane deserved the freedom to decide who and when and how much. Not be stuck in a drunken mistake.
21
That Look
Zane trailed his hand along the angle of her jaw, stealing one last kiss. He didn’t give a damn that his parents were watching, not having a clue what was going on between them. That there were a dozen first responders beginning to clear out, a violent bastard of a man he’d just kicked the shit out of, and a tough but injured woman that had a long journey ahead of her… all with the potential to ruin a perfect sunny morning in which he held the woman he loved in his arms.
Could he really stand in front of a judge and declare this marriage was a mistake? His mouth opened to say the words that needed to be said, but as usual, his timing fucking sucked.
Freya’s phone buzzed in a cheerful jingle. Chest still heaving from the kiss or the adrenaline or… all of it, she pulled her phone from her pocket. Her brow scrunched at the number. She held her finger up and wandered up the stairs, answering, “Hello?”
His parents turned and started to speak to him. He shook his head, placing his finger over his lips let them know it wasn’t the time. Feet light on the steps, he followed Freya. Something about the paintings she’d sent, something urgent. Shit, had something been ruined in transit?
A breath-holding grin grew on her expression, about to burst with something. After another few minutes of nodding and accepting and clarifying, she hung up. “Um,” she began. “That was the gallery in Rome.”
He crossed to her. “What happened? Everything okay?”
She bit her lips, the smile too massive to be contained. “They loved the paintings I sent. They had intended to add whatever I sent to their routine stock, but they are running a show highlighting warriors, and they’re hoping I can come to mingle as a featured artist... But it’s tomorrow.”
“That’s incredible. Really. Shit, Freya, that’s so amazing.” He pulled out his phone to check flights. While he searched, aching with the strangest sensation of pride he had no idea he could feel for someone, he said, “I'll find the next flight out while you pack.”
“They booked me a flight already.” She glanced at her phone, her breath rushing out through pursed lips. “I’m sorry, I–”
He tugged her close and plastered his lips to hers.
His parents slowly filed in the door, as puzzled as they’d been for most of the morning.
Freya grabbed her suitcase and started loading up, frazzled and frantic and vibrant.
“Need a ride to the airport?” he asked, eager to do something helpful, standing with his arms crossed and leaned against the door jamb, feeling completely useless.
She shook her head. “Apparently, they hired a car for me. It should be here any minute.” Leaving her suitcase on the bed, she rushed toward the door. “I need to invade Sophie’s closet,” she grinned on her way out the door.
Within twenty minutes, he was loading the trunk of the fancy-ass sedan that came for her. Thrilled, bouncing and glowing, she plastered him with a fierce kiss that set his hair on fire, then dove into the car and took off.
Breath rushing from his lungs as she left, the adrenaline of the last few hours crashed and left his head pounding and stomach in knots. Fucking shit. She… this was exactly the moment she deserved. The moment she’d been waiting for. Not simply an auction that went well. Not just a few sales. But a feature, to be invited and flown out.
The dust from the unmarked black sedan had yet to settle when a postal car came puttering down the drive. As he stood at the base of the stairs, a uniformed delivery woman dashed up the stairs and handed him a priority envelope. “Have a nice afternoon,” she smiled, ignoring the distant look on his face.
Mindlessly, he opened the package as he strolled into the apartment. His parents were still uncharacteristically quiet, thank fuck. They made themselves at home in the kitchen, pouring a trio of beers, as if their son hadn’t lost the love of his life to her career. Which was so incredible for her, why the hell would he not support this, unlike the other assholes she’d committed to? With all this attention, no way she would want to come home. She shouldn’t; the limelight was there, and she was going to be fucking amazing in it.
Glossy bright photographs spilled from the package and onto his bed as he hid to avoid his parents while he got a grip on what the hell was going on. Shuffling the loose photographs together, that stupid fucking pang gripped every organ in his trunk and nearly suffocated him. Burning behind his eyes, flooding his sinuses, he felt memory after memory wash over him. Still a blur, but that feeling, that wholehearted affection… a gust of fresh air rushed in the window, a bizarre inkling of hope he’d hesitated to consider filling him.
On top of the stack, an eight-by-ten captured that look. The look he knew so well and craved more than the mountain air around him. In her stunning blue dress, her hair loose around her shoulders, his ring on her hand that rested on his chest, Freya gazed at him. And he looked back at her, unmasked joy in his grin, his arms holding her close.
No judge would see that photograph and think them anything but a couple decidedly entering marriage with clear heads and forever intent.
He flipped through a few more. Damn, they had an incredible photographer. Or they had been so fricking happy, it would have been impossible to miss. In another, he stood behind Freya, his arms wrapped around her middle, they both were laughing about something, moving synchronously in the candid shot.
A few more, all fricking amazing. And then the shocker. The ceremony. Her parents standing witness, beaming and, well, as tipsy as they were. Did they not remember either?
He snapped a pic and texted it to his in-laws.
A half a second later, his phone rang. Closing the bedroom door, he answered Eamon’s call in private.
“The pictures finally arrived?”
What? Zane’s sigh was heavy, his heart still totally unsure how to beat, his head spinning from the effort. “Yeah. You knew?”
“I wasn’t sure where you two were at with all this. Honestly, it’s a huge blur for Tammy and me, but the pictures on my phone brought things back clear enough.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“We wanted you two to decide what you wanted without any input from us. Freya’s had enough pressure in her relationships; we certainly have pushed where we shouldn’t have and it was time to step back and trust. Has Freya seen them? We were hoping she’d get to see those before the court date.” A soft chuckle, “We’ve tried to not indicate our preference, but we have been hopeful.”
“She’s on her way to a huge event in Rome.”
“Is that what’s going on? Tammy’s on the phone with her now and hasn’t gotten to read her text from you. Um… she’s now jumping up and down and giggling.”
“The gallery in Rome called about the new paintings. They want to highlight her work, and apparently one will be a perfect keystone piece for the show.”
Eamon sighed into the receiver, “She must be a wreck. She gets so nervous when her work is on display, when she might have to deal with criticism face to face.”
“Think she could use some support? I… I’m trying to figure out how to be what she needs.”
A moment later, he heard two voices muttering and arguing on the other end of the line. Finally, Tammy’s voice blasted into his ear, “Zane? How are you?”
“Um, I’m fine.”
“Tell me exactly what Freya said when she left.”
“The last thing she said was that she needed to raid Sophie’s closet.”
A chu
ckle on the other side. “Huh. Well. The annulment hearing is on Wednesday?”
Fuck. It was. He’d forgotten in all the commotion. Freya would flip if they missed it. Three broken engagements and a divorce? No way could he do that to her. “I can go alone.”
“No. You’re going to Rome.”
“What?”
Whispering on the other end, Hurry up, Eamon. No, I don’t care how much it costs. First class. He paid for the wedding… yes, dip into the wedding fund. “Your flight leaves in…” More whispering. “Four hours.”
“My flight?”
His mother-in-law’s frank disappointment battered against his eardrum. “Don’t be an idiot. Do you love her?”
“Yes.”
“You know how terrible her last relationships have been?”
“Yeah.” He rubbed a hand over his face. This is what Asher had been ready to kick his ass about. “I’m not one of those guys. I will do whatever she needs.”
“I would love to be the one there to support her again, but it’s not me she needs right now. It’s you. Eamon is sending you your flight information as we speak. Can you get to SeaTac okay?”
“Of course. But–”
“You need to prove her wrong. I’ve tried telling her that no relationship is perfect. That you need to make compromises for each other, but you also need to build each other up. Be honest with me, Zane. Do you?”
“What? Build each other up?”
“Yes.”
“Fuck yeah. I mean, sorry, yes, I hope so. She… she’s… everything.”
“Then get on the plane. Go tell her. Everything.”
Shit. Holy shit. His pulse was downright thready. He hung up and stared blankly ahead, feeling more terrified than when he had a gun trained on his head this morning.
When he came back inside, his mother held out a beer for him. “This is rather tasty. I mean, a little bitter for my liking. But I thought, after the morning we’ve had, Saturday lunch beer sounded perfect.”
He shook his head. “I’ve got to go. You guys can stay tonight and head out in the morning as you planned.”
The Next Day (Foothills Book 2) Page 21