“Seventeen years, maman,” he whispered. “I had made up my mind to come to you. I know I gave you my word that I wouldn’t, but I feared I would lose you before I could see you again. Zyah grew up without knowing me. You were lost to me. She was lost to me.”
“We’re here,” Anat assured.
“They don’t care about us now. They don’t even think about us,” François said. “I want to get on a plane tomorrow and come to see you, and I intend to do just that.” There was absolute conviction in his voice, as if she might dare to contradict him. If she did, he was going to refuse to listen to her. “Someone opened the portal. I can see now, it must have been Zyah.”
“She didn’t know what she was doing. It was an accident. It scared her. You scared her. Her man, Player, is like my Horus,” Anat explained. “They moved the drawing from my house in order to protect me, not realizing I knew what it was. Player was afraid the bomb might go off and kill me.” She smiled affectionately at Player.
Player felt that smile right through him, like an arrow to his soul. Zyah’s grandmother had taken the club, his family, into her home, into her heart, welcoming them in the way Blythe had. He tightened his hold on Zyah, feeling he was lucky to bring not only Zyah to his family, but Anat. For so long, he had felt unworthy of the others, apart from them. His mind defective and even dangerous to them because of his strange talent. Sharing Zyah and Anat had more than made up for any shortcomings he might have.
“I was recovering from a brain injury,” Player explained. “The drawing was in front of me, and I could clearly see the plans for the bomb. My brain works on things like that, and it did. The next thing, Zyah and I saw you and you scared the crap out of us. We were terrified for Anat and had no idea what to think. I asked my family for help. They’re very good at finding people. Fortunately, Zyah, my family and I all believe so much in Anat, that before we did anything, we asked her. She told us how this all came about. It’s pretty incredible.”
“Unbelievable is what you mean,” François said. “The things Horus and Ken thought of and then proceeded to do were beyond this world. Out of a science fiction movie. If I tried to tell someone about them, people would think I was crazy.” He hesitated. “What do you mean, your family? Maman, this kind of technology is extremely dangerous. If it fell into the wrong hands, it would be a disaster. No one else knew about this. It was kept a secret because it was so dangerous.”
“Horus was well aware of that. He honestly didn’t think it would work. None of us did. Ken and Amara tried first and couldn’t open the portal. Ken was the one who had designed the portal, so naturally we thought they could open it. Even for Horus and Ken, the idea was too farfetched. You can imagine how shocked we were when it worked for us,” Anat said.
“Zyah and—I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name,” François said.
“My family calls me Player,” he supplied.
“Player, then. If it got out about this, any government or terrorist group would come after both of you in a heartbeat. You know that.”
“I know. It was always meant to be destroyed. I just didn’t think anyone else could ever open it or even read it,” Anat admitted.
“Did you tell anyone about this?” François asked Player.
“Several of my family members know. They’re here now,” Player said. “I’m in a club. Czar, our president, is here. A few others. Mechanic, Savage, Destroyer, Ink, Storm.”
Observing the absolute dismay on François’s face as each man moved into sight and then out again, Anat tried to assure him. “These are good boys. I was robbed and beaten and they took care of me. Player was shot preventing Zyah from being kidnapped. They’ll do whatever it takes to protect us, François. And I intend to destroy the drawing after talking to you. I don’t want to, because I love it so much, but this has shown me that it is much too dangerous to have around. The club thinks it needs to be destroyed as well.”
“I think it best, maman. I’m sorry that you’ll lose Horus’s drawing when it means so much to you, but I did buy a ticket, and I’m coming to see you. It isn’t the same, but having your son back might help.”
“It more than helps,” Anat assured. “You have two beautiful daughters and a son of your own.”
“I do. My wife is an incredible woman. I can’t wait for you to meet her. I haven’t told them anything about why I’m traveling to the United States. I didn’t know what was happening with the portal at the time I purchased the ticket, so I was traveling alone.”
“When are you coming?” Anat asked, nearly holding her breath.
“I’m flying out tomorrow.” Again, François’s voice was very decisive.
Player glanced at Czar. That didn’t give Code much time to find out very much about Anat’s son. As far as the club was concerned, Anat was theirs. Their grandmother. That meant they took care of her. They protected her. She clearly loved this man. She’d raised him from the time he was an infant, and she’d done everything to protect him, but seventeen years had gone by and he hadn’t reached out to her. He hadn’t found a way to send her money or help. They had a code. It was different and they knew that, but still, it was the way they lived. Czar was already texting, filling Code in, telling him to put everything aside until they knew what they could about François.
“I can’t wait to see you, François,” Anat reiterated. “We will be destroying the drawing as soon as we close the portal, so we won’t be able to contact each other this way.”
“You have my contact information, correct?” François said.
She nodded. “And you have mine?”
“Yes. Je t’aime, maman.”
“I love you, François,” Anat whispered. She glanced back at Zyah and Player. There were tears in her eyes.
Player released his hold on Zyah and put a little distance between them. At once the inside of the drawing began to color in. The process was slow, but it was impossible to see François. Where there had been darkness, light began to shine through, leaving the lines of charcoal to fill in. Player, watching, found it a fascinating procedure. Eventually, the drawing was just that again, an intricate, beautiful picture surrounded by an intriguing frame.
All of them stood behind Anat’s wheelchair, staring at Horus’s drawing for a long time. Destroyer leaned close to Anat. “You ready? Let’s go out to the yard.”
She nodded and reached back to pat his hand. “I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
Zyah followed behind the chair and Player took the picture off the wall. He dreaded burning it almost as much as the women did. It really was priceless, but it was too dangerous to keep. He carried the framed picture out to the pit dug in the ground and lined with rocks, already waiting. The fuel, branches of dried oak and redwood, was stacked. Storm lit the tented smaller twigs, and Player waited for the larger branches to catch fire before putting the picture, facedown, on top of it. He didn’t wait, nor did he show it again to the women.
Zyah reached her hand out to Anat and then leaned close to her, circling her neck with her arm. Player stepped up beside her and wrapped his arm around her waist. Savage and Destroyer both pressed close to Anat to give her comfort while they all watched the picture burn. When it was completely consumed by the flames, Anat looked up at Destroyer.
“I’m tired. Would you mind taking me back to Lizz’s house?”
“Not at all, Anat,” Destroyer said.
“I’ll go with you,” Zyah volunteered.
Anat patted her hand. “Lizz loves you dearly, Zyah, but she isn’t quite ready to see too much of you. She doesn’t need reminders of Francine’s treachery right now. You stay with Player. The two of you need time together. Let a couple of old women grieve together. Tomorrow François will be here and we’ll have a fine celebration, although I don’t know when I’ll have my home back.”
“We can use my home,” Player said.
“Or mine,” Czar said. “Or the clubhouse. You tell me what you want and it’s yours, Anat. Alena w
ill let us use the restaurant as well.”
Anat blinked back tears. “You’re all very good to me.”
Player thought it was the other way around. He drew Zyah close as they watched Destroyer put Anat in the van. The club helped him put out the fire, and then they left, leaving him alone with his woman.
Player sat on the edge of the bed, his pounding head in his hands. His body was covered in sweat. He was never going to be rid of the nightmares. Never. They’d lessened with Zyah sleeping beside him, but nothing was going to erase his past. Careful not to disturb her, he padded to the shower, hoping the hot water would relieve the terrible jackhammers threatening to rip his brain apart.
“Water on,” he ordered. “Lights dim. Blue.” He felt almost sick with pain.
Resting his forehead against the tile with his arms spread out, bracing himself with his hands on the walls of the shower, he let the water spray over his body from every direction. Above him, the multiple rows of shower heads rained down on him, providing a gentle rain that encompassed the entire large enclosure. Four of the side shower heads pulsed harder into his body, massaging his muscles. He hoped that would distract him from the pounding in his head.
“Honey. You should have woken me up.” Zyah’s arms slid around his waist. She pressed her breasts to his back. She was short enough that her soft mounds fit quite snugly into the curve of his back above his buttocks. “I don’t like that you don’t wake me when you have nightmares. This isn’t the first time.”
Was there hurt in her voice? In her mind? He couldn’t tell because it was all he could do to concentrate on keeping the pain from spilling over into her mind. He wasn’t giving her that.
“Babe. Go back to bed. I’m all right.”
She didn’t move. Or speak. She stayed still, her arms wrapped around him, her face pressed to his back now, just as tightly as her tits. He could feel every breath she took.
“This happens. It’s going to keep happening. We both knew it would.” He dropped one hand over hers and rubbed back and forth, taking some solace from just having her close. “Can’t get away from it. Don’t like it touching you.”
“You’re not all right, Player. You hurt like hell. I can feel your headache and you’re protecting me. It’s like a battering ram. If you’re protecting me, I can’t imagine how bad it is for you. Why wouldn’t you want my help?”
There was definitely hurt in her voice. His heart clenched hard in his chest. He couldn’t cope with that right now.
“Babe. I love you, but I can’t make things better for you when my head is coming apart the way it is.” He tried to turn his head to look at her. That required opening his eyes. Thank heavens he’d called for blue lights or he wouldn’t have been able to take it.
Zyah had stepped to the side of him, and her face was tilted up, looking up at him. Water ran over her from the many long rows of shower heads. Beads of water ran in rivulets over her shoulders and down the curves of her body.
“You aren’t supposed to make things better for me, Player, I’m going to make them better for you.” She raised her voice to a command. “Water off.” Her chocolate eyes darkened, and she indicated for him to walk ahead of her. “Out.”
If he could have managed, he would have smiled, but he obeyed her. His woman going all bossy on him could make him hard under the worst of circumstances. She rolled her eyes at him when he glanced back, his hand fisting his cock.
“Grab a towel instead of your cock and get on the bed. Lie down on your stomach.” She toweled off and went to the cabinet where he’d put the many items he’d gotten from Hannah at the Floating Hat.
“You turn me on when you’re so damn bossy, woman.” He was telling the strict truth. He stretched out gingerly in the center of the bed. Just moving his head around hurt. That didn’t seem to stop his wayward cock from reacting to her, though.
“I turn you on all the time. Just waking up turns you on,” she said.
She moved into his line of vision, or rather part of her body did. He had his head turned toward her. He could see her narrow waist and generous hips. He loved the shape of her hips. The junction between her legs, those dark curls she’d shaved like a little landing strip that left her lips bare for him because he’d shaved her that way one day. She’d kept it for him. He liked to tease her with his mouth and tongue and teeth. Those little curls drove him nuts. But the bare lips and access to her clit made her all the more sensitive.
Zyah put one knee on the bed and crawled over him. Her hands, coated in lotion, began to massage the knots in his neck. She was quiet, working on the knots, letting the lotion do its magic along with her fingers. He was very conscious of her body straddling his. Her legs positioned on either side of his back, her pussy pressing into him.
All at once, when his guard slipped, she poured into his mind. Zyah. Soothing. Gentle. Just sliding in and filling him with her. Completing him. She found every one of the rips his past memories had put in his mind, mending them in the way she did. Zyah drove away the nightmares, replacing them with her sweetness, the way she loved him. The way she gave herself to him every single day.
He closed his eyes, surrendering to her magic. It wasn’t the lotion. It wasn’t even her hands. It was Zyah and the way she took care of him. Already his house was filled with warmth. In the weeks she’d been living with him, she’d transformed the beautiful structure into the peaceful sanctuary he’d envisioned when he’d bought it.
Lizz had decided to move in with Anat, and the two women seemed to get along very well together. Lizz had the upstairs and Anat the downstairs. That decision had alleviated Zyah’s worry that Anat would be alone if she moved out. Torpedo Ink still watched over Anat, taking turns as she did her physical therapy on her leg, but she was much more mobile now. Both Lizz and Anat frequently had dinner with Player and Zyah at Crow 287 or lunch at the Floating Hat. The little tea and bath and body shop had quickly become a favorite.
François had visited three times, bringing Anat such joy, Player couldn’t help liking the man. The third visit, he’d brought his wife and children. That time, they’d all had a barbecue at Czar’s so the children could play together. That had been a big hit, and Lizz had actually gone along. Zyah had really enjoyed getting to know her uncle and his family.
“Now that your head isn’t pounding, Player, and I know you’re feeling so much better,” Zyah said, “I want you to tell me why you haven’t been waking me up when you get these nightmares. They’re coming frequently. You go off by yourself, play your music, or if they’re particularly bad you head for the shower. Sometimes you go for a ride on your bike. I don’t like being shut out, honey, so you’re going to have to tell me why you’re not waking me up immediately.”
He’d been feeling relaxed. Just like that, tension shot through him. Instinctively, he knew she wasn’t going to like the answer. It was a legitimate one, though.
He half turned, catching her around the waist, warning her so she had time to stretch her legs out, and then he rolled, tucking her under him. Her hair was wrapped in a warm towel, making her dark eyes larger, the lashes all the more noticeable. He traced her high cheekbones with his thumbs.
Wedging one knee between her legs, he nudged her until she accommodated him and he sank into his favorite place, cradling his body in her hips. She had a lush body, all curves, all feminine. Sometimes he wondered how he’d lived without her.
“Player.” She’d perfected the art of the one-name inflection. Just like any club member, she could speak volumes with just one word. Low. Gentle. A brush of heat. A reprimand. Telling him to get on with it.
He bent his head and nipped her neck, then licked the spot soothingly, feeling her answering shiver. “I love you, Zyah. I want you for you, not because you can make my nightmares go away. Or because you can repair my brain when it’s torn up. Or my mind when I’m all over the place.”
“Player, honey—”
“Let me finish.” He kissed his way down her throat to the c
urves of her breasts. “You were very casual about telling me you didn’t want me to be with you for the great sex or because of your ability to repair my mind or take away the nightmares. You only said it once, and then you let it go. I thought about the times I wouldn’t commit to you and you kept trying over and over, giving yourself to me full on. We had a connection. We knew each other through that connection. I knew what you were like. You knew what I was like. And then I was trying and you took me back, but I could feel it wasn’t the same. There was a little part of you that held back. It wasn’t like before, when you were all in. That very casual statement was the reason why.”
Player shifted his body just enough to be able to kiss his way back up to her chin. To her lower lip. He used his teeth to tug on her lip just because it was so bitable. One hand slid between her legs just to make certain she was slick and hot for him. She was. He knew she would be. He had grown accustomed to the shifting of his heart now, the way it seemed to melt when he felt such love for her overwhelming him.
“I realized no one would want to be wanted for their ability to repair damage to someone’s brain, or to chase away nightmares.”
Before she could protest, which he knew she would, he took her mouth. Slow. Gentle. Loving. Flames burned hot the way they did every time they kissed. Kissing ignited some deep well of fire in both of them so that a storm came together, no matter how gentle he wanted to be. He caught her legs, lifted them at the knees and urged her to wrap them around his hips as he lodged the head of his cock in her slick entrance.
She was so hot. Burning. Tight. He always wondered if he was going to make it into her, especially when he was like this, invading slowly. He loved looking into her eyes. Watching her as he joined them together. Her eyes always darkened more. Went wide. Dazed. A little shocked.
“Player.” She breathed his name this time. Almost reverently.
He heard the love in her voice. Felt it in his mind. She swamped him with the emotion. He pushed deeper into that scorching-hot tunnel, one slow inch at a time.
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