War of Hearts

by Nina Levine

  Her lips pull up slightly at the ends. “Look at you, getting good at sharing.” She shifts again, bringing her legs up so she’s cross-legged on the seat. “So it’s just you and your dad then?”

  “Christ,” I mutter, dropping my head back against the seat again and exhaling. “You’re gonna hound me with questions now, aren’t you?”

  She surprises me when she shakes her head and says softly, “No, not if you don’t want me to.”

  Something tells me she needs this. She needs the distraction from thinking about her problems. “It’s just me. Both my parents are dead.”

  Zara might be young and she might be far more curious about shit than I prefer people to be, but she’s perceptive. Instead of bugging me for more information about my family, she says, “I’m sorry your niece lives so far away. I get the feeling she’s the one you probably miss the most.”

  I’m not much of a talker, and this conversation has gone on long enough. I hold out my hand again. “Pass your keys.”

  “I’m fine. I can drive myself home.”

  “No, I told your mother I’d get you home.”

  “Honestly, I’m—”

  She has no intention of giving me the keys, so I lean across her and grab them out of the ignition myself. Not one of my best ideas. It put us too fucking close.

  Ignoring her protests, I exit the car and walk around to her side. Opening the door, I lift my chin at her. “Out. I’m driving.”

  “How do you intend to get home?” she asks once she’s out of the car.

  “I’ll walk.”

  After one last long look at me, she walks around the car and gets in the other side. As we strap our seat belts in, she says, “I just added another tick in the ‘not an asshole’ column.”

  I start the car and reverse it. “This is for your mother. I owe her.”

  “Oh, so the debt is repaid now, is it?”

  With my hand firmly on the gearstick, rather than on her leg where I’d prefer it, I nod. “You could say that.”

  She faces me, placing one leg up on her seat and crossing it under her other leg. I glance sideways as she moves and catch an eyeful of cleavage. Gripping the gearstick harder, I face the road again.

  Fucking keep your eyes on the road.

  “You can tell me all you like that this is for my mum, but I’m still adding that tick.” She reaches out and places her hand on my chest as she adds, “There’s something in here. I’m sure of it.”

  Jesus fuck.

  Her touch is electric. It fucking lights me up with desire in a way I can’t recall ever experiencing. I have to lay the fucking law down with her.

  Pulling the car to the side of the road, I find her eyes and say with some force, “Don’t mistake shit for something it’s not. There is something in here”—I jab my chest—“but I can assure you it’s blacker than you can ever imagine.”

  The tension sitting between us swallows her words and the car is filled with silence. It’s a noisy fucking silence, though, and with what I’m beginning to know about Zara, it won’t last long. “I don’t think I’m mistaking anything, Fury,” she says slowly. “Your heart might be black, but I’ve seen the patches of red. And I’ve also seen the way you look at me. You can’t deny you’re interested.”

  “I look at you the way any man would look at you unless he’s gay or blind. As far as being interested, I’m interested in a lot of fucking things, the least of which is touching something that’ll put me in hell.”

  Her eyes search mine for a long moment before she leans closer to me and places her hand on my leg. “I’ve tried to ignore this thing between us, but—”

  I don’t allow her to go on because fuck knows where we’ll end up if I do. Forcibly removing her hand from my leg, I growl, “Don’t touch me again, Zara. I might want to put my hands and mouth on you, but I can’t. That can never happen between us. Not while your father is my president.”

  “King told you not to go near me?”

  “It doesn’t matter whether he told me that or not. The president’s daughter is off limits.”

  “But did he?” she demands.

  “I’m not getting into that with you. The only thing you need to take from this conversation is that nothing can happen between us. Understood?”

  Her lips flatten. “Don’t treat me like a child.”

  “Fuck,” I mutter. “Just tell me you hear me.”

  “Yeah, I hear you. But you should know I don’t go running to King when I sleep with a guy and tell him all about it.”

  This is the moment I know I’m truly screwed with Zara. When she mentions sleeping with a guy, I immediately think of her with someone other than me. And I don’t fucking like the thought.

  I pull the car back onto the road. “This conversation is over,” I snap. “And we both know where we stand.”

  12

  Zara

  * * *

  “I’m glad you’re back doing yoga,” Holly says early Sunday morning as I move into lotus pose in our living room. I’ve been up for an hour and am trying to take my mind off Fury. This pose usually helps calm me, but it’s not doing much for me today. “I feel like yoga will go well with the sessions you’re doing with the shrink,” she adds.

  I crack an eye open. “Maybe.”

  “You’re still not keen on the shrink, are you?”

  I crack my other eye open and find her curling up on one of our couches. “Would you be?”

  She shrugs. “I don’t know. I’ve never had to contemplate it.”

  “Well I can answer for you, Hols: you wouldn’t be keen. You’d hate the idea of it and would probably refuse to go. So don’t give me grief for not wanting to do it.”

  She holds her hands up defensively. “Whoa, calm down, Zar. I’m not here to argue with you about it.”

  I relax my muscles that have tensed. “You’re not?” I’ve felt so pressured by King and Mum that I just assumed my sister would be as determined about this as they are.

  “No. I think it will be good for you, but that doesn’t mean I’ll hound you about it. I will say this, though: I’ve seen a change in you this week. Whether that’s because of the psychologist or something else, I don’t know, but I think if you dig deep on that, you’ll find you know the reason.”

  “What change have you seen?”

  “You haven’t been out drinking for over a week and you cut ties with Marissa and Tommy. Those things are huge and I think they’re some of the best things you’ve done in a long time.” She nods at me. “And now you’re back doing yoga.”

  “Ugh. I had to find something to do to take my mind off shit since drinking, running, and baking are off the table.”

  “Why is running and baking off the table? And aren’t you supposed to be thinking about shit rather than trying to push it away?”

  “I can’t keep baking all these cakes because I’m eating far too much sugar. And running is out because it’s too damn dangerous to my health when Fury has to come with me.” I stop and widen my eyes a little. “He’s half the shit I’m trying to take my mind off.”

  Her mouth forms an O. “You’re into Fury?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.”

  “Shit, Zara, that can’t go anywhere.”

  “I know! God, it’s a mess.”

  She frowns. “Why? Have you two—”

  “No, we haven’t done anything. But I really want to.” I sigh and slouch in my pose. “Why did you get to be the gay one? My life would be so much easier if I was into girls.”

  “Yeah, no. Except for when it comes to King. Then, yes, it would be.”

  I sit up straight, an idea coming to me. “I’m gonna go talk to King. Maybe if he knew—”

  “No, that’s a really bad idea, Zar. Trust me. It’ll only get Fury into shit.”

  “I won’t tell him who. I just want to ask him why he’s so against me dating his guys.”

  “And you don’t think King will rip his club apart to find out who you’re into?”r />
  She has a point. “Okay, so I won’t tell him I want to date anyone; I’ll just have a casual conversation asking some hypothetical questions about it.”

  When I stand, she does, too. “Seriously,” she says, “King’s not stupid. You start asking hypothetical questions, you’ll get his attention.”

  My frustration over his stance flares. I respect and love King, but I find him to be completely unreasonable sometimes. “Well he needs to understand I’m not a kid anymore. I’m an adult with adult feelings.”

  “Don’t say I never warned you,” she calls out as I walk down the hall to my bedroom.

  Fifteen minutes later, I’m dressed and ready to go see King. I also want to talk with Mum, so this will kill two birds. As I reverse out of the driveway, I find Fury parked out the front of the house, leaning against his ute. Odd; he’s usually on night shift.

  I put the car in park, hop out, and head over to him. I’m not sure what to expect after yesterday when he told me nothing can happen between us, so I greet him tentatively with a simple, “Hey.”

  I can’t tell if he’s happy to see me or not. The set of his shoulders makes me think not, but his eyes confuse me. However, what he says and the hard tone he takes leave me with no doubt. “Get back in your car, Zara.”

  My cheeks heat from the reprimand I feel. I’m so stunned that I’m lost for words. “What?”

  He jerks his chin at my car. “You heard me.”

  “Yes, I heard you, but I’m unsure why you’re being so hard.”

  He works his jaw. “We crossed a line. I’m uncrossing it.”

  “What freaking line did we cross, Fury?”

  “The one that makes you think you want something to happen between us.”

  “So you’re telling me that to uncross that line, you need to go back to being an asshole?”

  “I don’t need to go back to being anything. I’m just being myself, princess.”

  I hate that he’s being like this and it makes me more determined to talk to King. “You keep telling yourself that. In the meantime, I’m going to talk to King about this and make him—”

  Fury steps closer to me, his body radiating with rigid determination. “King has enough shit on his plate; he doesn’t need this added to it. Not when this is nothing.”

  “This isn’t nothing.”

  “Yeah, it is.” The chill coming from him is enough to make me forget the muggy weather. “It’s a quick fuck at best, and that’s not something to go to King about.”

  If I thought I felt reprimanded before, I now feel like I’ve been put in my place. So much so, I wish the ground would open up and swallow me.

  I knew this about Fury.

  I knew he was an asshole.

  I knew he was the kind of guy who fucked a different club whore every night.

  How could I be so dumb to think we had a connection?

  Every inch of my skin feels like it’s on fire.

  I need to get out of here.

  Gathering up every ounce of dignity I can find, I stand up straighter and square my shoulders. “I take back all my ticks. You’re the biggest asshole I’ve ever met.”

  I stalk back to my car as fast as I can, get in, and scream out of the driveway in a blaze of disappointment and hurt.

  Fuck Fury.

  Liking him is now at the top of my list of dumbest things I’ve ever done. And that’s a long freaking list of some really stupid things, so that shows me just how dumb this was.

  I end up at the clubhouse after driving to see Mum and being informed by Gran she’s here.

  It’s still early for a Sunday, just past 10:00 a.m., so it’s quiet. Mum is in the kitchen helping Tatum and Madison clean up, which surprises me.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be resting?” I say, joining them. After her trip to the hospital last weekend, the doctor put her on bed rest. After much argument, King agreed to her attending the barbeque yesterday so long as she did nothing.

  “Trust me,” Madison says, with a smile, “We’re not letting her do anything. It just looks like she is because we’re tricking her into thinking she’s contributing.”

  I really like Madison. She says it like it is and doesn’t put up with shit. I remember one time when she took King on over something he’d said; she might have pissed him off, but she won the argument.

  Mum eyes me hesitantly. I don’t blame her for that; we didn’t leave things in a good place yesterday when we fought. And we haven’t spoken since. “Hey, baby,” she says softly. “How are you today?”

  “Can we talk?” God, I hate this distance. We both worked so hard last year to build our relationship into something stronger than it’s ever been, and over the last couple of months, we’ve taken some hits.

  “Of course.” She glances at the girls. “I’ll be back.”

  Tatum waves her off. “No, don’t. We’ve got this, and Monroe’s on her way to help, so we’re good.”

  “Harlow’s coming, too,” Madison says. “Go sit. We’ll be out soon.”

  Mum leads the way out to the clubhouse bar and we take a seat in the corner. There are a few members in here, but they’re all passed out, so we have the room to ourselves.

  Mum opens her mouth to say something, but I jump in first. “I’m sorry for the things I said yesterday. I take them all back.”

  Her relief is visible as her body lets out a long breath. Reaching for my hand, she says, “I’m sorry, too, Zara.” She pauses. “But while I wish I said things in a better way, I don’t take them back.” Her voice softens. “I still believe you need to talk to someone about the abortion rather than trying to block it out.”

  I nod. “I know, and I will. I’m going to bring it up with the psychologist on Tuesday. I mean, I’m not looking forward to it, but if you and Holly think I need this, I choose to trust you both.”

  I know my Mum well, so I know that on the inside she’s rejoicing at my news. On the outside, though, she’s doing her best to stay cool and appear calm. “I’m so glad to hear that. And I’ll come with you.”

  “No.” I shake my head. “You’re supposed to be resting. I’ll ask Holly to come with me.” And if she can’t, I’ll be a big girl and do this on my own. I don’t tell Mum that, though, because I know she’ll turn up if she finds out I’m by myself.

  Her expression tells me she’d do anything to be the one with me at the appointment, but she doesn’t voice that. Instead, she points her finger at me and says, “Okay, but I’ll be calling you afterwards to see how you are, so make sure you answer your phone.”

  I grin. “I see you’ve been taking tips on how to be bossy from King.”

  She shakes her head with a smile. “That man will be the death of me one day.”

  “And you wouldn’t have it any other way.” I wrap my arms around her in a hug. “I love you, Mum.”

  “I love you too, baby.”

  After the way Fury made me feel earlier, I want to stay here forever with her. In her arms. She’s my safe place. Hell, with the kick in the guts he delivered, anywhere other than near him is my safe place today.

  13

  Zara

  * * *

  “Last time, we talked very generally about the trauma you’ve been through, and you gave me some history on your family and your life,” my psychologist says on Tuesday afternoon when I have my session with her. “Today I want to go back to the night of the mugging and talk about what happened that night.”

  I want to tell her no, but I don’t. “Okay.” My mouth has gone dry and the word squeaks out. When she doesn’t speak again but sits silently, waiting for me, I start, “I was walking along Pitt Street. It was late. Or actually, early morning, just after 2:00 a.m.” I stop talking and reach for the glass of water she gave me when I arrived. I desperately need the water.

  While I take a sip, she says, “I want to start earlier in the night.”

  I stop sipping, every muscle in my body tensing. No. “Why?”

  She considers her reply a
nd then says, “I heard self blame from you last week. I want to explore where that’s coming from.”

  I know where it’s coming from and it’s entirely warranted. I just don’t know if I have it in me to explore this with her because right now, everything inside of me is saying to get up and walk out. Possibly the one thing really stopping me from doing that is the fact Holly is sitting outside waiting for me. I’m not sure what I want more: to escape this room or to finish out this session and make my sister, and my parents, proud.

  Taking a deep breath, I try to ignore the feeling of a heavy weight pressing down on my chest and start at the beginning. “That night started at a club in town with my friends.” God, please let my heart stop beating so fast. “It was just another night out for us. We drank some cocktails, took some Molly, danced for hours. The guy I’d been fooling around with for months… I mean, not sex… everything else but that… he hooked up with some other girl, and Marissa, my bestie… well, she’s not my friend anymore, but she was… she told me to find someone, too. It was dumb, but I was rolling and fucked up, so I thought it was a good idea. Kind of like a “fuck you” to Tommy.”

  “Tommy is the guy you’d been fooling around with?”

  I nod. “Yeah. He’s an idiot. I know that now, but I’d been into him since last year. We had this push-pull thing going on. It was messed up. Anyway, I met a guy at the club and danced with him for hours before he asked me to spend the night with him. I agreed, which is something I’d never done before. I mean, I’d only ever slept with two guys before that. And I didn’t do one-night stands.” I pause for a moment and meet her eyes, needing her to hear me when I say, “I had a reputation at school for being a slut, but I wasn’t. I was into guys, and I flirted like crazy and did stuff with them, but I only ever slept with a guy if he was my boyfriend.”

  I reach for the glass of water again and take another sip, willing the dryness in my mouth to ease. I’m also waiting for her to tell me I can stop talking, that she’s got enough background now. But she doesn’t. She just nods and says, “What happened next?”