by Jo Raven
He winces and pushes his mug to the side, so he can fold his arms on the table. “There were some kids in a group home I was staying at. I must have been ten or so. They tried to drown me in a bathtub.”
I open my mouth, then snap it closed. Try again. “Are you serious?”
He looks up and just stares at me, a tired expression on his face.
My chair screeches as I push it back and march around the table. I know better than to hug him from behind, so I lean in his side and put my arms around him. He looks startled and stays still as I hold him.
“You were not joking,” I murmur into his shoulder. “You were serious.”
“I don’t joke about such things,” he says, then reaches and encircles my waist, pulling me into his lap. “Why would I?”
I shake my head and tighten my hold, resting my head on his shoulder. I feel like he came close to dying, came close to giving up many times. Like there is so much pain inside him, and I’ve only just scratched the surface.
I hope he won’t give up. I hope he’ll let me hold him when he feels like he’s falling.
“What about you?” he asks after a while. “I think my folder may be incomplete. What do you hate?”
He wants to change the topic, and I let him without protest.
“I hate pearls,” I whisper. “I hate high places. And I hate hospitals.” I spent so much time in them that I’d rather avoid them.
“I’ll pen that in, then,” he says and rocks me slightly, back and forth—as if I’m the one who needs comforting after what he told me.
Maybe I am.
I’ve only been staying with Zane for three days now, but we already have a routine. A pleasant routine. He makes coffee in the morning. I have dinner ready when he comes home at night. We kiss, we explore each other’s bodies, learning how and where to touch. Where not to touch and what not to do.
It’s been pretty simple so far. He’ll touch me with his fingers or mouth until I come, and then he’ll enter me until we both come. Like a tried recipe, the positions change marginally on occasion. Zane likes routine. He likes safe. No surprises.
Although it’s odd that we don’t sleep in the same bed, it feels good to see him smile. He has a beautiful smile that lights up his eyes. He really should smile more.
Then it’s Saturday morning, and he’s not smiling. At all. As I wander into the kitchen, I find him slouched in his chair, his cell in his hand. It’s off, the screen black.
“Hey.” I slide into the seat next to him. I’m dressed in another of his T-shirts and normally—in the routine we’ve established—this is something that drives him crazy.
Not today. He nods but says nothing. Doesn’t look up.
Worried, I squeeze his arm. “Are you all right?”
He nods again, an automatic motion. “Yeah. I have to go.”
I blink. “Go where?”
He frowns, then pockets the phone. He’s dressed in T-shirt and long jeans. Ready to leave. “Visit my sister.”
“Okay.” I wet my lips, trying to think. “Can I come with you?”
“No.”
His curt reply stings. But why should it? It’s not like I’m his girlfriend or anything. We don’t even sleep together in the same bed. “I could help.”
“You can’t.” He pushes off the table and stands up, his face set in hard lines. “Got to go.”
“Wait.” I scramble to my feet, panicking. “Where will you be? Are you sure I shouldn’t come? I could drive, wherever it is, and I could bring you coffee and sandwiches, and—”
“I said no.” His gaze softens for a moment. “Not this time.”
My heart hurts, but I force myself to nod.
“I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon. Will you be okay?”
“Yeah. I’m meeting Audrey for coffee today, and Tessa is organizing another picnic in the park tomorrow. Besides, I have some work to finish.”
It’s all true, and yet I don’t want him to go. I like being with him, having his attention on me, his teasing, his hands on me… I’ll miss him, I realize with a jolt.
“Do you mind if I stay a few more days here?” I whisper, wiggling my bare toes on the floor. I need to repaint my nails, I think randomly. “I may have something lined up, but it’s not sure yet.”
“Come here.” He opens his arms, and I walk into them with relief. “You can stay here as long as you need. I wish…”
I wait for him to finish, but he doesn’t. He holds me against his chest, his arms strong and secure around me.
I wish we could stay like this forever.
“Need to get going,” he whispers.
I let him go, though I hate it. I hate being apart from him. I hate seeing him so stressed and sad.
I’d tell him to write down all these things I hate in my folder, but he’s already leaving.
After Zane is gone, I wander the empty apartment. I don’t know why I’m in such a funk. I want to know what’s wrong with his sister, but I’m scared to ask. Scared I’ll press him too much, too soon, and he’ll push me away. Scared to make him relive the pain. That everything I do hurts him, when all I want is to see that smile on his face.
Zane is complicated. This is complicated. But I’ve never felt more alive. Never felt happier than when I’m with him.
And now I’m scaring myself, because it is too much, too soon.
I meet Audrey at a new cafe downtown. She’s all smiles, happiness radiating from her face like the freaking sun. She’s been that way ever since Asher moved in with her. They’re such a cute couple.
“Where is your other half?” I nudge her with my elbow as I take my seat and grab the menu. “Is he hiding under your chair?”
She laughs. “Yeah, right.” Like the rest of the Brotherhood, Asher is over six foot of muscled hawtness. Hard to miss in a room, really.
“How is he?”
“Great. Passed his GED.”
“That’s awesome!” It really is. Audrey told me Asher missed so much school he thought he’d never catch up. “We should celebrate.”
“What did you think tomorrow’s picnic in the park was about?” She falls silent when the waiter arrives to take my order, then leans forward again. “How’s Zane?”
I don’t even know how to begin answering this. Hot? Awesome? Sex on legs? Funny and charming? Sad, damaged, dark and brooding… Hurting. “He’s fine.”
“Tess says you’re staying with him.” I swear her green eyes frigging twinkle. God, I’m like Grumpy Cat. “What’s going on? Are you guys, like, officially together?”
Couldn’t be any further from ‘officially’ than we are now. I mean, sex and joking around don’t count, do they?
“I’m just staying with him until I find a new roommate.” I pray the coffee comes soon to give me something to do with my hands. I was looking forward to meeting Audrey, and now I feel like running.
“I see.” She’s still smiling though, and I wonder what exactly it is she sees. “Do you like him?”
Like him? I freaking love him.
Oh sweet Jesus. “He’s okay, I guess.”
“He’s hot.”
I laugh. Audrey is watching me like I’m Santa. Like she’s expecting more. More joy. More surprises. More magic.
“He’s hot,” I agree. How can anyone deny it? “And nice.”
“Ah.” Looking pleased, she leans back as the waiter brings my coffee.
Sugar, no milk. As it’s written in my folder.
A pang goes through my chest. I shouldn’t be missing Zane so much already. He’s only been gone a couple of hours.
“Audrey… what do you know about Zane’s sister?”
Her cinnamon brows lift, and she pushes a fiery-red strand of hair behind her ear. “His sister? Not much. I’m not that close to Zane. You should ask Erin.”
I shake my head. “I don’t know Erin that well.”
“What’s wrong?”
“His sister is sick. I don’t know what she has, but it must be bad. Zane is
concerned.”
The understatement of the year.
“Maybe Ash knows. Shall we ask him now?”
I take a deep breath. “See, I knew he was hiding under your chair.”
She laughs and pulls out her cell phone. “He and the guys are hanging out at Damage Control. They’re…” She presses her lips together, and I don’t like the concern tightening her fine features.
“Audrey?”
“Sorry. They’re worried about Dylan. Tessa is beside herself with frustration, but as long as Dylan doesn’t tell us what exactly is the problem, there’s not much we can do.”
“What happened?”
“Just that his dad seems to have gone off the rails again… and his little brother, Teo, isn’t doing well.”
Off the rails. Sounds bad. “Is his brother sick?”
“Yes, but Dylan won’t say more. Seriously, we’ve asked a thousand times, but we won’t tell us what the problem is. It’s driving everyone crazy. But he looks bad. His grades are slipping. He’s already lost his scholarship, and now he may even lose his job.”
Christ. “What can I do?”
“Nothing until we find out more. The only person Dylan might open up to is Zane. He needs to talk to Dylan.” She shakes her head. “Let me call Ash.”
I sip my coffee and look around the cafe, not really seeing anything, my thoughts wandering from Dylan to Zane and back. The whole Inked Brotherhood is built on pain. I knew that from the moment Audrey explained to me the thing about the dragon tattoos—the moment I decided I deserved one, too. But they hide their pain well. It’s not until they break down and everything collapses that we others get to see the festering wound.
I put down my coffee when Audrey passes me her phone. “It’s Ash.”
Suddenly nervous, I wipe my palms on my jeans before I grab it and answer. “Hi, Ash.”
“Hey.” His deep voice vibrates through the phone. “Auds says you wanna ask me about something?”
“Yeah.” And now I feel like a busybody, asking him this, especially when he’s in the middle of trying to figure out what is happening to Dylan. “It’s about Zane’s sister.”
“Emma?”
Emma. She has a name. “Yes.”
“You have news about her?”
He sounds like he knows something, and I forge on. “I just wanted to ask what you know about her. She’s sick, right?”
A silence greets my words. Ash is probably thinking about hanging up on me.
Shit. “Look, Zane told me she’s sick, and he’s off to visit her. I just want to know what is wrong with her. I want to help Zane, but it’s hard without knowing stuff.”
Not sure I’m making much sense, but maybe he hears my worry in my voice, because he says, “Okay.”
Okay what?
“Emma has cancer.”
I blink. My stomach cramps. I’d feared this but had hoped against all hope it was something else. “What sort?” I croak. “Will she live?”
“Breast cancer. I thought she was in remission. Haven’t been able to get a single fucking word about it from Zane in months now, though.”
Cancer. No wonder Zane is so worried.
“Do you know something I don’t?” Ash asks.
“Nope. Sorry.”
“Never mind,” he says, sounding tired. “Got to go now.”
Like Zane said this morning. “Thank you. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help Dylan.”
“Thanks.” There’s more warmth in his voice when he says this. “Take care.”
I should take care of Zane, I think, as I pass the cell back to Audrey. Everyone is so focused on Dylan right now I have the impression they don’t see how close to breaking Zane is.
But how can I help him? Can’t do much when he’s not here. When he clearly stated he didn’t want my company this weekend.
Do you give a person you care for what they want, or what they need? Do I know what Zane needs?
Debatable. I’m not wiser than other girls my age. Not all-knowing. Still, I’ve been somewhere most girls my age haven’t been: close to death, close to utter despair. So maybe I do know what Zane needs. Maybe even more so than Zane himself.
It’s late when I return to the apartment. I stand in the living room, feeling out of sorts without Zane there. The silence is oppressive. So I undress and go to bed, but can’t sleep. After tossing and turning for hours, I give up. My feet take me to his bedroom, and I sit on his bed. His dark scent wafts around me, and I curl up over the sheets, burying my nose in his pillow.
I wish he were here with me. Tomorrow can’t come fast enough.
I drift off like that, waking up at some point to burrow under the covers, his scent surrounding me like his embrace, lulling me back to sleep.
And wake up with a scream caught in my throat, flailing. Falling. I expect to feel the impact on my back, I expect water to fill my mouth, and my body to lose all sensation as I sink lower and lower, unable to move.
No. I can move. I’m okay. My hands shake so badly I can barely grip the covers, but I do, and I throw them off me. I wiggle my toes, then lift my feet, first the one, then the other. I can move. I’m okay now.
Trembling, I get up and walk to the kitchen. My heart is beating so fast I’m dizzy. Cold. Shaky. I need something warm. Grabbing a filter, I set about making coffee.
If Zane was here, he’d have held me until I forgot all about the damn dream. The damn memory.
I could call him.
The idea stills me. He’s with his sick sister. Why disturb him for a dream?
Then again… I glance at the gurgling coffee machine, then at his empty seat. If he doesn’t want to answer the phone, he doesn’t have to. Tears are stinging my eyes, and for some reason, of all the people I know, it’s his voice I need to hear.
Because he promised not to let me fall.
Chewing savagely on the inside of my cheek, I go in search of my cell. I find it in my purse. It looks dead. What the hell? I shake it and curse at it. The battery can’t be empty. I charged it yesterday, before meeting Audrey for coffee.
Dammit. I plug it in again and watch as it lights up.
And then powers down again.
Oh no. I so don’t need this. As I move around so much, this is my one steady number where my parents and everyone can reach me. I check the port, check the socket and the plug, jiggle it, making sure it’s connected. The screen flashes on again, and I see a text from my mom.
Shit.
It’s about my Aunt Carolina. She’s at the hospital. She wasn’t feeling well, and she had some more analyses done. They’d have the results in a few days.
What to do? If Mom calls and my phone is dead, then… Then she’ll call Bella, or Audrey. She has their numbers. But perhaps I can give her Zane’s number, too. He’ll be back tomorrow, and if she calls, he’ll pass the phone to me.
Quickly, before my phone dies again, I send Mom his phone number and tell her to ask for me if she needs to talk, until I get my own phone fixed.
I barely manage to hit send before the phone dies again. Not even sure the text went through, I stare at my crappy phone.
Not a good start to this Sunday.
Suddenly I’m desperate to get out of the house. I’m not supposed to meet the guys at the park before noon, but I shower and dress quickly in a white sundress and sandals and head out. The sun warms my face and bare shoulders, the warmth slowly seeping deeper.
But I’m still cold.
I pass by Bella’s apartment, but nobody answers the doorbell. I wander the sleepy town and buy ice cream, because life without ice cream is plain sad, and I want to shake the sad off me.
Zane loves watching me lick popsicles. So I buy a chocolate cone instead. Doesn’t feel fair to eat a popsicle without him watching.
That’s it. I’m officially sick. Hooked. Smitten. Nuts about this boy.
Jesus.
‘Just call me Zane,’ I think I hear his teasing voice in my ears, and my body tight
ens down low just as my mouth tugs into a smile.
Yep. Officially in love.
The day drags. The picnic drags. Time drags. My cell is on, and I hope it stays on. I left it charging all morning. It says the time is four in the afternoon, and although the park is beautiful in the golden sunlight, the guys are talking about Dylan, and I want to go home. I cooked earlier, and I want to set up the table. Make it look nice for when he arrives.
I start when I realize what I mean by home is Zane’s apartment.
Get real, Dakota. You’ve only been staying with him, what, four days?
The next thought is even more absurd.
Home is where Zane is.
How crazy is that?
I get up and grab my purse. “Hey, guys, got to go.”
“Why so soon?” Tessa whines and makes a grab for me.
“Stay a bit longer,” Tyler agrees, his arms around Erin.
“Cut it out, guys.” Audrey gives me a shrewd glance from her perch on Asher’s lap. “Zane may be back by now, right?”
I let out a long breath, shifting from foot to foot. God, I hope so.
“How is he?” Erin leans forward, her dark eyes narrowing. “It’s like he fell off the face of the earth. I’ve called him many times to do something together, but he either doesn’t answer or says he’s busy.”
Torn, I look from her to Audrey. Erin is Zane’s friend, and maybe I should tell her about my worries—then again, if Zane doesn’t want to tell her, who am I to spill his secrets? Besides, I really want to go home in case he’s back.
“He’s okay,” Audrey says.
“His sister’s sick,” Asher says at the same time. “Dakota will tell us if there’s anything to be worried about. Right, Dakota?”
“Yeah, of course.” And I leave as fast as my feet can take me.
As soon as I enter the apartment, I know Zane is back. There’s a jacket thrown on the sofa, a bottle of amber liquid on the table and a half-empty glass.
I frown as I pad inside and close the door behind me with a soft click. I approach the sofa. Drinking already? This doesn’t look good.
A noise makes me look up, and there he is, standing at the kitchen door. He’s dressed only in his worn jeans and his ink, looking tired and drop-dead gorgeous. His almond-shaped eyes light up when he sees me.