“What is it?” I ask dumbly.
“He misses you. He’s a mess. If you ask me, which you haven’t, I think you are acting like a child over this,” she whispers.
“You're right; I didn’t ask you,” I bite out, remove my gaze from hers, and stare blankly at the envelope.
My brain is exhausted from everything that’s happened the last few days. Hell, I nearly had a meltdown at lunch today choosing between ham and turkey for my sandwich.
I open the envelope, pull out the piece of paper, unfold it, and read his words silently.
Bluebird,
I’ve kept my promise and left. I hope you’ve had time to think. My intentions were never to upset you, and for that, I’m truly sorry. You’ll never know just how deeply sorry I am. After taking the time to think myself, I’m not going to apologize for wanting answers. You deserve them, and so do I. We deserve them together.
We need to talk. I miss you. I need you. I’m a struggling man here, and the next step in working this out is on you. There will be a cab waiting for you out front at seven tonight. It will be your choice whether you take that ride back to me.
Zeke
The wetness seeping from my face blurs my vision. My heart is pounding so hard it scares me. He’s not giving up on me. He is in as much pain and conflict as me.
Zoe reaches over for my hand.
“I’m sorry for what I said. Amelia, there are times when we all have to take responsibility for our actions. He’s trying to bring you closure, to help you move on, and pushing him away isn’t the answer neither one of you need. You have to talk things out. Fight for what you really want. The man loves you. He’s not out to hurt you. You are going to fight your addiction daily until you get it in your head that you're strong enough to face things head-on. Don’t push away the one good thing you have in your life. Zeke was at in that restaurant for a reason. That reason was to not only save your life, but it was also to fall in love with you and for you to fall back.”
She’s right about all of it. Every single word.
“I’m scared,” I admit.
“And you should be. Relationships are scary. Especially the ones that you want to hold on to. But pushing him away, not talking this out isn’t a relationship, Amelia. It's being a coward. And you, my friend, are far from one. You're brave. Strong. And it’s about damn time you prove it. Have you been happy these past few days without him?”
“No, I’m miserable. Every single part of me hurts without him,” I tell her honestly.
“Then that sounds like your answer. Get up, get dressed, and go to him.” For a woman who one day has her head in the clouds and the next day she’s sheltering herself, she sure gives some great advice.
Zoe climbs from the bed and heads straight for my closet. The girl wastes no time on a mission to get me dressed. Of course, she has the periwinkle dress dangling on the tips of her fingers. I look over at the alarm clock and see we only have one hour.
“First, you need to shower,” Zoe snaps. “I’ll get everything put together on my end.”
“Wait. Did you read this?” I ask.
“No. He told me he was asking you to meet him somewhere. I’m simply making sure you do.”
“Thank you. I’m going to use the shower in Zeke’s bathroom. All my things are in there.” I dash out of the room, excitement coursing through my veins to see him.
As I walk in running my fingers along the smooth marble counter, I realize our argument for what it really was. A bump in the road and nothing else. I melt under the water with Zeke’s masculine scent surrounding me in a warm hug. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes. Love has never been an easy thing for me. In all honesty, I didn’t know the meaning of it until I fell for Zeke. He symbolizes strength, caring, and devotion, and quite frankly, I’m frightened that my weaknesses will drive him away. But Zoe is right. A relationship is something you fight for. Together.
I grab my shampoo, rinse my hair, follow through with everything else as I snap to my senses and quickly finish my shower.
Everything else happens in a whirlwind when I make it back to my room wrapped in a towel. Zoe leads me to my bathroom, makes me sit in front of the makeup vanity. Her hands comb through my hair, adding her magic touch before blow-drying it. She straightens every single last piece of it until it hits the middle of my back.
I’m a bit nervous when she breaks out the makeup, eyeing each color warily. She bites down on her bottom lip, concentrating while she works. The loud and obnoxious woman from before seems to be drawing into herself. Something is going on with her. She’s helped me. I need to help her.
“Zoe, has everything been okay?”
“Yeah, why?” She doesn’t even flinch when she answers.
“You ditched me twice.”
“I’m sorry about that. Robbie can be overprotective. We’ve had a rough couple of months.”
“You’d tell me if anything was wrong or if you needed help, right?”
She stares into my eyes, and the hurt is evident. “Yes, but I’m good, Amelia. I promise. Go get dressed.”
She shuffles from the room before I have a chance to pry her for more. I’m not giving up on her, the same way she has never given up on me.
I slip into panties and a lace bra then drag the dress over my head, smoothing my hair out when I’m done. It feels weird running down my neck. I’m always pulling the mess up on my head.
I barely recognize the woman in the mirror. My eyes are subtle with a smoky feel, my cheeks dabbled with the perfect hint of blush, and my lips painted in a shade of nude. It’s not necessarily the hair and makeup but the hope that’s playing out in my features.
“Let me see you.” Zoe bursts into the bathroom. “Oh, wow. You look amazing. Simply stunning.”
“Thank you,” I say, smiling at my reflection staring back at me in the mirror.
I turn and spot a bottle of perfume sticking out of Zoe’s purse as she’s stuffing her makeup inside.
“May I?” I ask, pointing.
“Yes, it’s Happy by Clinique.”
Zoe studies her face in the mirror, scrunching up her brow and complaining about her wrinkle lines. I roll my eyes. The woman is exotically beautiful. I grab the perfume, causing her purse to spill over. Several orange pill bottles topple out onto the counter. I gasp, slapping my hand over my mouth.
“Zoe?” I whisper in utter horror.
“It’s nothing.” She scrambles for the bottles, shoving them back inside.
I react fast, grabbing her hand, stopping her. “What is this?”
“Don’t,” she scolds.
“Zoe.”
She shoots her face up to me, boring holes in my head. “It’s not what you think, Amelia.”
“Then talk,” I demand.
“I’m not an addict.”
“Didn’t say you were.” I squeeze the top of her hand harder. “What is going on?”
I plead with her, determined not to give up.
“I struggle with manic depression.” She shuts her eyes tightly. “Robbie doesn’t like me taking meds. Claims they make me a robot. I can’t do it, Zoe. I just can’t live like that anymore. I hide them in my purse.”
“Zoe.” I release her hand and wrap my arms around her, pulling her in for a hug.
She begins to cry in my arms. I hug her tighter to me, running my hands up and down her back. He mood swings make sense to me now.
“Does he hurt you?” I whisper into her ear.
“It’s complicated.”
“I don’t care, Zoe. None of it matters. Only you do.”
She pulls back until we are eye to eye. “He doesn’t hurt me. He’s just hard to live with.”
“Okay. I’m here if you need me, and I mean it. Your friendship means more to me than you’ll ever know. You were the first real friend I’ve had, Zoe. I’m here. I always will be. No more ditching or avoiding me, okay? You will stay in contact, or I’ll change my mind about learning how to drive and find you.”
>
“That might not be a bad thing, you know. Getting your driver’s license.”
“Someday. Like I said before, this city is full of crazy drivers. You being one of them.”
“Right. I’m going. Have a good time.” Oh, no. She’s not blowing me off that easily.
“You have a place here if you need it, Zoe. Renee’s, too. You have all of us.”
She takes a step back, hoists her purse on her shoulder, and straightens her spine. “It’s really not that bad, Amelia. I promise.”
I nod. This isn’t over, far from it. I’ll be there for Zoe each step of the way until I truly believe she is safe. The only promising fact is, she has a graveyard shift tonight at work. We hug for a long time before I crawl into the taxi. I shoot a text to Renee, relaying briefly my concern for Zoe and adding on that I’m off to see Zeke. I wait for her response. Once she answers back, I stuff my phone in my purse and lean my head back to relax.
The city and its lights fly by in a blur during the quiet taxi ride. I feel whole again going to the man I love. Yes, we have lots to talk about and figure out. The important part is we are fighting together for it.
The cab comes to a halt in front of an expansive museum. I look up, and my jaw drops. This isn’t just any museum. It’s an art museum.
And Zeke is standing at the top of the steps. Waiting. He’s dressed in black suit with a silver tie. His hands tucked in his pockets with his sight on me in the back seat. He takes my breath away. I don’t want to be without him again.
My hands scramble to open the door.
But Zeke, he’s right there to open it for me. We never take our eyes off one another.
My feet are uncertain when they hit the sidewalk. A hand extends to guide me. It’s warmth coursing through my veins. Electricity shoots up my arm and sparks ignite. So many of them it’s blinding.
He throws a crisp hundred-dollar bill to the cab driver, closes the door, and we stand there staring at each other, remaining silent for a long time.
I want to say so much to him that I don’t know where to begin.
“Not yet,” he simply states, linking his fingers with mine in order to lead me up the stairs and inside through the glass museum doors.
My breath hitches as I take in the foyer of the place. I could get lost in here for days on end. The artwork is something I’ve always wanted to see. Each piece unique in its own way. Colorful. We wander down long corridors in utter silence, stopping every so often to admire a certain piece. It’s not until we come face-to-face with one particular painting that brings tears to my eyes for some unknown reason.
The canvas is huge. Half of it is blank with a stark white, while the other side is filled with abstract art. A variety of different colors is swirling and curving in different directions, creating the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“I walked around here last night hopelessly, thinking being surrounded by art would make me feel closer to you, Amelia.” Zeke squeezes my hand. “Of course, it didn’t. I found this painting and saw us. I was blank before you entered my life, and I was blank again without you.”
He points to the vivid side of the painting. “This is how you make me feel, Bluebird. Colorful. I need that. We need that.”
“I feel the same way about you. We need to talk, though, Zeke,” I state. I hate to say that right now when his words mean more to me than anything. But we have to get this over with, so we can get back on our smooth surface again.
“Yes, we do.”
He places his hand on my lower back, guides me to a bench across from the painting, and we sit for several seconds before I speak first.
“I overreacted, and for that I’m sorry. You took me by surprise, and I panicked. What they did to me is unforgivable, Zeke. But to me, the way I treated you, the man I love, was unforgivable, too. I refuse to let them come between the only good thing in my life. That’s you. Us. I’m going to have breakdowns. I’m going to want to succumb to the craving my body is used to feeling. I can’t promise you or me anything except I love you so much that I truly believe our love will get us through every obstacle that’s thrown in our path. I gave you the information to find them. I’m not going to stand in your way if you choose to. I don’t want to discuss them anymore. I also don’t want them to know anything about me. I don’t want them to find me or laugh if they were to find out the things I’ve done. They can’t have the last laugh, Zeke. That is something I won’t allow.”
22
Zeke
The past few days have frayed every single one of my nerves. It’s a love that’s more powerful than I’ve ever imagined. You see this shit in the movies or even read the grand gestures in a novel, but to experience in real life is another thing. I love this woman.
I’ve pushed through three long days of endless work. Without her in my life, there was no clear break between morning and night. The days ran together with me a hollow man going through the motions. Sleeping when I could in my office. Busting my ass to track her family down. Amelia gave me her birth certificate. Right there in black and white sat her name right below her mother’s. Father said ‘unknown.’ It was her mother’s maiden name, but I know who they are. I know where they live. And as I sit here listening to her pour her heart out to me, I decide right there I can’t tell her. She’s telling me she doesn’t want to know. Basically giving me the green light, and I’m going to plow right through it.
It seems I’ve fucked up again, though. Her stepfather is a cardiologist. A well-known surgeon right here in LA. Dr. Salem Foster. I’ve never met the fucker, but I’ve heard of him. His accolades speak volumes. It’s his ethics, his morals, and the mask he hides behind his closed doors that drive my desire to have the man shot dead. No mercy will be given.
I’ve called Saxon and Katch. Filled them in. And I want them gone. Every one of them. The fuckers only chuckled knowing damn well what the plan would be. The fucks probably had intel on them and were only gifting me the power to crush them. But I know there are always eyes on my girl and me. Protecting us. I may not be part of the club, but I’m damn close.
And his son. Dexter. The nerdy fucker who is in his final years of medical school won’t see his first day of becoming a surgeon. The problem is, I’m greedy and want at them first. I want to look them all in the eye. Tell them they didn’t win.
This situation is completely different from the night in the alley. I have to be there. I will be there and even get my hands dirty. Fuck the oath and law. This has to happen, and I’ll wear the blood on my knuckles like a fucking award. I just thank God the filth of the Earth was not on the charity ball invite. Call it a miracle or an act of all the Gods working together, but their evil will not taint the ball.
I shove that all aside. Peer over at the woman I love and grab her face in my hands. I haven’t touched her in days. The longing has beaten me down, and the desire to taste her is choking me to death.
“I forgive you. If you’ll forgive me.” I search her eyes.
They are so bright. So blue and shed so much love for me that if I weren’t sitting down, I would drop to my knees.
“Yes. These past few days have been worse than the entire time I was in rehab. I’m so sorry. I want you to believe me when I say I never want another man to touch me. Not ever. I only want you.”
I close my eyes. I don’t need to tell her those words she threatened me with cut me wide open. I knew the minute I fought through my anger that she said them out of hers.
“I know, baby. This isn’t easy for either one of us. But when I tell you I’m fighting your demons with you and for you, you can’t push me away. I should have approached the subject differently, and for that I’m sorry.”
“No. I shouldn’t have kept their names from you. I should have told you everything. It’s still hard for me to talk about them. I just want to forget. I’ve thought a lot over the past few days. The one thing that kept replaying in my mind was, I’ll never forget what they did to me. I can’t. It’s impossib
le. But I can move forward. I can have a life, and I want it with you. I’m worth the fight. We’re worth it, Zeke.”
Christ, she is so much wiser than her age. With everything she’s been through, her heart shines above it all.
“I have something for you. I don’t want you to think it’s my intention of buying your forgiveness. I saw it on display when I bought this suit.” I let go of her face, reach into my pocket, and pull out the long blue box.
Her shaky hands take it, placing it in her lap.
“I think the only intention you have is to spoil me.” She giggles.
That sweet sound warms my entire being, slowly placing the shattered pieces back together. I swear to the good God that I never want to live another day not hearing that precious sound.
“One of them,” I say.
“And the others?” She lifts a brow.
“To love you for the rest of my life,” I speak truthfully.
Her brow lifts higher. She was expecting me to say something else. I’ll be damned if I’m throwing a sexual innuendo in there. Even though my cock has been painfully hard since she stepped out of that cab in her simple, beautiful dress.
The one I know Renee bought her at Target. I’ve tried to get her to let me take her shopping, and the only places she wants to go is to Target and Starbucks. It seems my girl has a fashion for bling, too. Found the buckle store online, and now she has about ten pairs of jeans with bling all over her tight little ass. My dick is granite now thinking about her ass.
“Open it,” I rasp out.
I need to stop thinking these thoughts. Her reaction to what I bought her means everything to me, and I won’t lie, I’m nervous as fuck. She gasps when she opens the lid. Her entire body stilling and her eyes focused on the item that lays nestled in the box.
“My sister was raped and killed. She was left dead in an alleyway.”
“What? Oh, my God, Zeke?”
I don’t even wince at that harsh delivery her shocked tone states, because it resembles us to the core. Everything that has been thrown our way has been nothing but shocking. We aren’t a typical couple, nor did we enter into a relationship the way most would be accepted by society. And that’s why I refuse to coat my words right now.
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