“Zoey?” I plead.
She sighs. “Not now, Mr. Hale.”
A hot knife slips into my gut, spilling my blood at her feet. Are we back to this, so far gone that she won’t even call me by my name anymore?
If so, I will fucking work to get her back the way I worked to get her the first time, step by step, brick by brick, taking down those walls until I’m back inside her. Because she’s it for me. Zoey Walker is my love, my life, my till death do us part, even if some stupid curse I don’t believe in means my death is imminent.
If it is, I’ll haunt her fucking ass until she joins me in the afterlife because I’m not nearly close to done with her. Her eyes cut my way, and I see the barest sparkle there, the tiniest lift of her lips, and I realize . . . she’s fucking messing with me.
After being terrified she was going to die tonight, after she probably thought the same thing, still in the aftermath with blood pooling and the smell of gunpowder in the air, she’s kidding . . . about us.
About love.
About death.
About forever.
I love her so fucking much.
“Fine, I’ll wait, Miss Walker. But soon . . . we’re going to have a little chat, you and me.” I give her my patented eyebrow lift and am rewarded as I watch the questions melt from her, shoulders dropping and a happy sigh escaping.
She’s with me.
We do need to talk about this morning, but she’s with me.
“One more thing, Zo.” I reach in my back pocket and pull out the coaster I grabbed from the courtroom floor this morning and hold it out as an offering. “Thought you might want to hold onto this for luck.”
She looks at the coaster then back to me. “I’m already feeling pretty lucky,” she says with a small smile, “but I guess you can never have too much luck.”
She takes the coaster and tucks it into her chest. Yvette lets out a sob, and finally, I can close the door on them. I climb in the front seat this time, and Barnes gives me a knowing glance. “Thought I told you to stay in the car?”
“Did you? Must’ve missed that. Did you know human hearing is best in our twenties and decreases by nine percent with each decade of life?”
“Hmph.” He backs up, the fence making a loud screech of metal on metal that makes me wince. “Guess your hearing’s not that bad after all, is it?”
Zoey pipes up from the back seat with a light laugh. “You made that statistic up.”
“Shh, don’t tell my secrets or I’ll lose my Trivia Master title.”
Barnes chuckles at that. “Trivia Master? Why doesn’t that surprise me, kid?”
Chapter 27
Zoey
The hospital is ready for us, two stretchers and a team of staff standing outside when Jeff stops by the double doors. A nurse yanks the door open, but Blake pushes him out of the way to get to me.
“Let me help you, Zo.”
As soon as his hand touches me, I feel my heart rate slow. It’s been racing for so long, it’s become my new normal, but with Blake by my side, I feel . . . safe. It’s an odd sensation, one I haven’t felt in a long time.
Maybe since I lost my parents.
“I don’t need a stretcher,” I argue, trying to bypass it and wave them off. “Help Yvette.”
“Protocol, Zoey,” the nurse tells me. “We need to assess you both.”
Realizing that I’m up against the whole lot of them and wanting Yvette to get care quickly, I acquiesce. The nurse tries to help me, but Blake growls at him and takes hold of me himself to ease me onto the stretcher. I groan as I get settled, every ache and pain sharp now that the adrenaline is wearing off, and the sound looks like it physically hurts Blake.
Jeff steps aside and lets another nurse help Yvette from the car and onto her own stretcher. Like a morose parade, we march and roll into the emergency department. I can feel eyes on me as we go down the hallway, and I shrink into the sheets, wishing I were invisible.
Luckily, no one says a word to me. I don’t think I could handle it if they did, and with the fire in Blake’s eyes and fury rolling off him in waves, I think he’d likely end up in a full-on brawl if someone so much as uttered one of those awful nicknames.
In the exam area, they set up Yvette and me side by side, allowing Dr. Pruitt to float between the two of us. Even though I’m stuck in bed, I start demanding tests.
“She’s definitely got heavy metal poisoning, but run a full tox screen. Look for anything, everything, and run an EKG on her heart.”
The doctor’s face remains impassive, but his question shows his true heart, “Anything else, Doctor Walker?”
Jeff answers for me, his voice about as kind as a crocodile with a toothache. “Do it. I want Zoey to get copies. Run all of Yvette’s treatment by her too.”
Dr. Pruitt loses all professionalism. “Are you trying to kill her by getting DDG involved, Jeff?”
“What did you say?” Blake snaps, leaning over me.
But I’m finding my own backbone after all these years. It might be ridiculous to say this, but being kidnapped has finally brought into sharp focus what’s most important. And it’s not tippy-toeing around assholes who bully me by reminding me of my past with hurtful names. I reach out and touch Blake’s arm and immediately, his gaze jerks to me.
He must see the fire rising in my eyes because I can feel his pride as he stands straight, giving me the floor with an evil smile that says ‘you’re gonna get it and I can’t wait to watch!’
“What did you call me?” I demand from Dr. Pruitt.
He has the good graces to look embarrassed, but he still repeats himself, only slightly quieter and less sure, “You know . . . DDG?”
“If you don’t know my name, I’m sure you can look at my chart and find it right there in front of your face. If not, as a professional, you could ask. And a little hint, it’s embossed in brass on the plate outside my morgue. It’s Zoey Walker. Need me to spell it for you? Z-O-E-Y-W-A-L-K-E-R. Learn it, use it. Because never again will I allow someone to reduce me to a name meant to hurt me by keeping me in the past.”
Oh, my God, that felt so good to say!
I think that has been twisting and turning in my gut for a long time, gathering steam, finding strength, and through yet another horrible thing that’s happened to me, I finally found the power to set it free.
The room has gone silent, all eyes on me, and quite a few dropped jaws. Jeff breaks first. “’Bout damn time, Zoey.”
“Right then,” Dr. Pruitt says, “full tox and EKG on Mrs. Horne, and let’s get an X-ray of that cheek, Miss Walker.”
* * *
Jacob comes into the hospital like the whirlwind he is. I can hear him from the front door all the way to the exam room. “Zoey! Zoey! Where are you?”
“In here,” I yell, not worried about bothering anyone with the noise because the whole department, staff and patients, are gossiping about Yvette and me.
Jacob bounces off the doorframe as he skids into the room, his eyes going wide when he sees me in the bed. Panting for breath, he huffs out, “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” He looks doubtful, not believing my reassurance. “Really, Jacob. I’m okay.”
Relief washes through him visibly, and suddenly, I see the young teen who came to Grandma and Grandpa with a chip on his shoulder and fear in his veins. He’s grown up so much and is an amazing man now, but deep inside, he’s still that boy who doesn’t want to get left again.
“Come here.” I hold my arms out wide, and he falls into me, hugging me tight.
“Zoey, I thought . . .” he whispers into my hair.
“I know, but I’m okay. We’re okay.”
This time he believes me, and the boyish core disappears to be replaced by the cocky swagger I’m used to. “Did they catch the guy who did this? I’m gonna kill him.”
His bluster is appreciated but unneeded as Blake fills Jacob in with zero finesse. “He’s dead. Alver shot him.”
For someone who�
�s known death, lives it and breathes it, that should be easy to hear. Death is as much a part of life as . . . life. But I’m having a hard time reconciling the Sebastian who played with the dogs at the dog park, ruffling their fur and baby talking them, with the man who backhanded me and poisoned the Hornes. I think it will take me time, and maybe a little therapy, to make that connection stick.
Jacob is still young, at an age where death doesn’t have that same seriousness to him. “Well, let’s do some zombie voodoo shit and bring that fucker back to life so I can kill him again. I want to do it myself.”
Blake seems to agree because he fist-bumps Jacob like they’re old bros planning a night out bowling and not a séance-slash-murder party.
“How’s Yvette?” I ask, attempting to bring us back to the here and now, not a deadly fantasy that brings back flashes of Sebastian lying in a pool of blood in the grass where I thought I was going to be the one to die.
Blake, who’s been handling everything like a pro, asks the nurse, who’s been hovering, probably hoping for some fresh gossip. “Any updates on Yvette?”
The nurse startles like he thought we didn’t know he was there. “I’ll check, but I know the doctor said treatment for the heavy metal poisoning was going to take a while.”
Jacob squeezes my hand suddenly, and I pat his back. “Not me. Sebastian was poisoning both Richard and Yvette. I guess he had some master scheme, planned to kill them both and inherit the dog and the money. He just wanted me to change the cause of death.”
Jacob’s brows jump together. Incredulously, he asks, “That was the grand plan in kidnapping you? Change the cause of death and presto, magic-o, there’d be no more questions? Like no one would notice or care that you’d been kidnapped?”
I shrug. “He didn’t exactly strike me as a master schemer.”
That’s being overly kind. Sebastian seemed like a nice guy with a get-rich-quick scheme that he just couldn’t let go of, no matter how deep the water got or how quickly he was drowning.
Blake adds, “It took Barnes a single phone call to find out that Sebastian bought the heavy metal-laden supplements with his own credit card. The police already searched his place too, and that’s not all they found.”
“What?” I haven’t heard this part yet. Maybe Blake found out when I closed my eyes for a quick medicine-induced nap that had turned into an hour-long snooze?
Blake tells me and Jacob, “Sebastian had a ‘vision board’ with pictures of Rusty, expensive car catalogs, and fancy house listings. Plus, a whole cabinet of vitamins, smoothies, supplements, and more. They had the medical examiner check them out one by one. She didn’t find anything other than the online supplement . . . at first. But then she noticed something. Sebastian’s patio backed up to the neighbor’s patio, and the neighbor had a bunch of plants and flowers. Including oleander. Does that mean anything to you?”
Blake’s question triggers me to search my mental files for something from my classes or even from trivia tidbits I know, but I come up empty. Shaking my head, I’m excited to learn something new, something that might help me better treat the DBs who pass through my morgue.
“Oleander is majorly poisonous, like one leaf or flower can kill a human in minutes.”
“Richard?” I guess.
“Yeah, it’s too late to know for sure, but it seems likely,” Blake postulates. “I guess Sebastian got impatient when the heavy metal wasn’t working fast enough? Either way, Richard’s death will be ruled foul play.”
I swallow thickly. “I guess Everlife got their way after all.”
I know deep down that Blake wasn’t using me. I think I always knew that. But there are also so many doubts and insecurities, from a lifetime of loss and bullying, covering that core of knowledge that it’s hard to stand confident in it.
Blake’s eyes are soft, full of patient kindness as he reassures me. “Zo, I don’t care about Everlife’s payouts, but Yvette will get the claim money because she didn’t kill Richard. The exemptions are suicide and murder by beneficiary.”
“Oh.” That’s good information and will help Yvette deal with her loss, but it’s not what’s looming at the forefront of my mind and Blake knows it.
“I was doing my job, like you were doing your job, and on the stand, I tried to protect you as much as I could.”
“I know,” I say softly, my chin dropping when his brow raises. He doesn’t believe that I trust him, not yet, but I earned that when I ran out of the courtroom and didn’t talk to Blake because I was hurt and mad.
But I will face it head-on now.
I grab his face, bringing him nose to nose with me. “I know.”
That gets me one of those sweet smiles, and he kisses me deeply but gently, careful with my cheek that’s still sore and probably looks a frightful mess. I kiss him back, telling him with my touch what I’ve already known.
He’s a good man. He’s my man, and I’m his.
The tenderness heats, fueled by what we almost lost, until Jacob clears his throat to remind us that he’s here. And we’re in a hospital. Babies are delivered here, not made.
Pulling back reluctantly, Blake whispers against my lips, “I love you, Miss Walker.”
I feel the words as much as I hear them, both resonating into my heart. But . . . “You can’t love me.” Blake growls at my argument, so I quickly finish, “Not yet. We haven’t even been on a proper date yet.”
He laughs, and a second later, I do too, matching his joy. We have time . . . time to date, time to love, time to trust.
“I think I fell in love with you one minute after you tried to kill me with your car. If it wasn’t then, it was when you saved my ass by easily winning our trivia competition wearing the cutest pajama pants I’ve ever seen.” He pauses and hums thoughtfully. “Actually, that might’ve been lust, not love, because those pants are sexy as hell on you.”
“The fuzzy skull ones?” I say with a grin, and he nods, pointedly looking down the lumpy, bumpy expanse of the hospital bed where I’m covered by a thin blanket.
“Still here, guys,” Jacob reminds us again. “Think I’ll head home, though. Seems like you’ve got this covered?”
Blake reluctantly tears his eyes away from me to shake Jacob’s hand. “I’ve got her.”
Jacob smiles at Blake before looking at me, all our history together in his eyes. If anyone knows what it’s like to feel alone in the world, it’s Jacob. “It’s about damn time. She’s wearing me out.”
He doesn’t mean a word of it. We’ve taken care of each other for a long time and would continue to do so without hesitation. But adding Blake to our little circle feels good. It feels right. A puzzle piece we were missing, and for the first time, I’m not worried that something awful is going to happen to him just because he’s important to me.
Jacob opens the door and nearly runs smack into Holly, who’s holding Olive’s hand. “Oh,” she gasps.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. C’mon in, Hols,” Jacob says, suddenly not going anywhere. In fact, he escorts Holly in, giving her an appreciative once-over before taking over with Olive easily. “Hey, Olive, wanna see the new game I got? You try to keep the ice-skating penguins from falling into the icy water. If you’re good, they do pirouettes. If not, they get eaten by seals.” He tickles Olive, mimicking the seals’ chomp-chomp-chomp sounds, and she squeals happily.
Holly smiles warmly at Jacob. “Thanks.”
“Of course,” he says with a shrug as he guides the little girl over to a chair in the corner and shows her the game. He thinks it’s no big deal, but I know that happy smile on Olive’s face means a lot to Holly.
I still think Jacob is way too young for Holly, but maybe that’s because I see him as the teen he was when he came to Grandma and Grandpa’s.
But he hasn’t been that kid in a long time. He’s grown into a fine man, mature well beyond his years—other than the pranks he pulls on me, and Holly would be lucky to have a man who appreciates her the way Jacob does.
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“Oh, noooo,” Jacob moans, “not the seals! They’re gonna get you!”
Olive wiggles her butt in the chair, turning the phone one way and the other to get away in the game.
“Whew, that was a seal-iously close one,” Jacob deadpans, and Olive beams happily, celebrating her penguin’s escape.
“You’re silly,” Olive tells Jacob.
“I think you mean seal-y,” he says with a smirk.
Oh, God, Holly is done for. Jacob’s got dad jokes.
Holly looks to me with wide eyes and begs, “Tell me what happened.”
I’m not sure if she means all my shit or how she missed the fact that Jacob’s all grown up.
“I think we’re gonna go to the vending machine, see what snacks we can find to get good and sugared up while you two talk. ’Kay, Holly?” Jacob asks, already holding Olive’s hand and stepping toward the door.
He knows that Olive doesn’t need to hear this story, and when Holly nods, he leads the girl out to the hallway, closing the door softly behind them.
“Short version . . . the dog trainer did it. Killed Richard, poisoned Yvette, kidnapped me, and had Yvette all sorts of messed up because the poison was messing with her mind, making her confused and suggestible. He was telling her all these awful things about the insurance, making them out to be the bad guys, and getting that slimy lawyer for her. Really hyping her up about the whole thing. She really thought he had stepped in to comfort her after Richard’s death and had fallen in love with her,” I finish sadly. “But the doctors are treating the poisoning, and she’ll be okay. Me too, no broken bones. Just a bad bruise and a little concussion watch that this guy has already volunteered for.” I cut my eyes to Blake, who’s watching me closely, probably cataloguing my speech patterns and speed to monitor for any changes.
“Wow,” Holly breathes out, horrified. After a few seconds to process, she blinks and focuses on me again. Pointing from me to Blake, she asks, “And you two?”
“I love him.” I’m answering Holly but looking at Blake. I see sparkles, which might be a concussion concern, but I think it’s the sparkles in his eyes as I say it aloud for the first time. “I love you.”
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