Page 37 of Claim Her

“Perfect answer. Fine. I love you too, and you know what, you can stay here and hover. That’s a whole lot better than you in that hospital talking to that guy. I bet he goes to work in a red Porsche and wears beige loafers and beige pants with a beige sweater over his beige shirt.”

Zara continues to laugh softly. “I never realized how much I like this jealous side of you. It’s cute.”

“You won’t think so if I get my hands on that?—”

The doorbell rings, and we both turn to the door. Zara steps closer to me and clutches my shirt. “Are you expecting your brothers?”

“No. But there are men posted outside the building. They’ll alert me if they see someone suspicious.” Pushing Zara gently behind me, I hobble to the door and look at the peephole.

I unlock the door, reach for the knob, and turn it, smiling at Zara, who looks wary. “It’s your parents.”

“Honey!”

She rushes to Zara and wraps her in a fierce hug, while her dad follows closely behind. I have no idea how they found out she’s at my apartment. I’m also not sure how much they know.

Her mom’s eyes meet mine as she rubs Zara’s back, and she doesn’t bother hiding her tears. She walks toward me and envelopes me in a tight embrace, her blonde bangs tickling my chin. “Thank you so much for doing what you did for her. Thank you, Alec.”

Her dad stands with one arm around Zara and the other hand shoved into his pocket. He gives me a nod and kisses Zara’s temple. “Thank you, son.”

Son.

That’s a word I haven’t heard in a long, long time. Not since my father.

Something cracks open in me. “It’s really nothing, ma’am.”

“Anna. Call me Anna. And that’s my husband, Richard. We owe you our daughter’s life and freedom.”

“She didn’t deserve to be in that situation in the first place, neither were hundreds of others.”

“You were a hero at your age, son. We will forever be indebted to you,” Richard says.

“No, sir. I mean, Richard. I love Zara. There are no debts here. If I could, I would do it all over again. The fact that I’ll get to spend all of my days with her is more than enough.”

“We’ll do whatever we can to find him and take him down. We’re not as powerful as you and your brothers, but I do know some people … the very same people who helped me legally adopt Zara.” A look passes between me and Richard, man to man, and I feel safe in the knowledge that even when I’m not around, he’ll do whatever he can to protect her.

Anna and Richard stay for a few hours, which means there isn’t just one person hovering over me, taking note of every wince or any look of discomfort on my face. And the worst—okay, maybe not the worst—part is that Richard’s a doctor. He and his daughter gang up on me, discussing my surgery and whatever.

Meanwhile, Anna insists on making us a week’s worth of meals. We only need to pop them in the microwave if we get hungry.

As I sit here and watch them—Anna and Zara in the kitchen, Richard rearranging the furniture so I won’t accidentally bump into any rough edges or corners—I get this unfamiliar feeling that somehow trumps layers of bitter cynicism and anger.

Whatever walls I built around myself, Zara didn’t just chip away at them, she tore them down.

This genuine happiness is something I haven’t felt in a while. It feels foreign. I love my brothers, there’s no doubt about that, but there’s just something about having other people fuss over me like this.

It does make me feel vulnerable because I now have several people I care about and will kill for, but I find that I don’t mind.

When Anna and Richard are about to leave, she wraps me in another hug, surprising me yet again. Most people, when they see my scar, assume the worst and often give me a wide berth, not even looking me in the eye.

Not Anna and Richard.

She’s as short as Zara, so she has to extend her hand to rest a palm on my cheek, with the scar. “You’ve been through a lot, too, haven’t you? I know you have your brothers, but from now on, you’ll never go through things alone. Richard and I are just a call away. Doesn’t matter if it’s in the middle of the night. If you need us, you call us.”

I can only nod.

After the door swings shut behind them, I press Zara against it and cup her face, crushing my mouth to hers, plunging my tongue in and out of her warm mouth. Jesus. I’ve been wanting to do this. The only thing we’ve been doing this past week is making out. Kisses and touches that lead to nowhere.

I can’t wait anymore.

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