Page 20 of Fractured Fear

Z has always had more of a conscience than me. Doctors told my mom I needed to be hospitalized when I was younger. I was “crazy.” They said I was a sociopath. I had kicked dumbass Tommy Fowler until three of his ribs broke for reaching his hand down Elena’s dress when she was twelve and he was fourteen. I would have kept kicking if a teacher hadn’t pulled me off of him. My lack of remorse scared everyone, but I considered it protecting my family. I always will. My mom wasn’t scared, she fully accepted the side of me that is darker than the shadows of night. The side that likes the pain I viciously gift to those who deserve it.

Now, after witnessing the shit Z, Ash, and I have all seen—the shit that one human is willing to do to another to make a buck—things like morals go right out the window. Zane still has some, that's why he was hiding this nighttime activity. Ash might have a few left too. But I have none. We don’t just dabble in the gray area of life. We paint it red.

I lean the seat back and get comfortable. “Do you have an extra pair?” I’m answered with a punch to the arm and the binoculars are ripped from me. “What the fuck?”

“Those are mine. If you wanted some, should’ve grabbed them from the house.”

He’s not wrong.

“Don’t hog my new teacher all to yourself. Sharing is caring,amigo.” I let my double meaning hang in the air.

A growl erupts from his throat. “She’s not some piece of ass we’ll share for a night, Rio.”

“I know that,” I punch him back in the arm and he grunts. “Talk to me.”

Relief washes over me when he finally gives me what I’ve been digging for. “She’s different. I touched her.”

I blink at him a few times in disbelief. Z doesn’t let any woman touch him, which is difficult when you live and work in New York, but he’s found little ways around it, even in the bedroom. We avoid all the tourist traps like the plague. He drives instead of taking the subway, and he doesn’t even shake hands with coworkers. Some people make comments and say shit, but they usually find themselves on the receiving end of mine or Ash’s fists.

“I can tell she’s different. That’s okay. I think she’s different too.” My words don’t bring him comfort. He still won’t look me in the eye.

He doesn’t speak so I do what I know will bring him comfort. I kiss him. I grab his face with both hands and don’t hold back.He opens to me immediately. I pour every ounce of acceptance I have with each swipe of my tongue. He needs to know I’m still here and I always will be. Zane returns the kiss with desperation like he’s afraid he’ll lose me, but that will never happen.

Our lips part and with my forehead resting against his, I reassure him with my words. “I’m here. We’re good. I promise.”

I sigh and realize I need sleep. I swipe my fluffy eye mask from my pocket and tell Zane, “I’m tired, wake me when you’re ready to switch. Sharing also means we share the load to protect her.” I slip on the mask to block out the annoying light from the nearby lamppost.

Before I fall asleep, I say, “And bring some snacks next time. I’m fucking hungry.”

What I don’t say, is that I also want Spencer.

CHAPTER 8

SPENCER

Thursday comes too soon. Way too soon. All my mental preparation to restore the walls around myself prove to be fruitless. Rio flashed one smile my way and I melted on the spot.

The real shock was when Zane showed up with Rio and coffee, no less. My favorite coffee too. I asked him how he knew and his response was to shrug and simply say, “You seemed like a chocolate kind of woman.”

Fair enough, plenty of people like chocolate. But he even got the extra whip cream and oat milk substitute correct.

My jaw was on the floor when Zane left and said he would be back later.

Why is he coming back?

Rio read my expression easily and answered my internal question. “He has to pick me up. How do you expect me to get home? Walk all the way to the Bronx?”

“There’s a subway for a reason.”

“Maybe he just needed an excuse to come back.” And then came the wink that incinerated my panties. A wink delivered while he was trying to hint at…what? That his friend wanted to see me? Then why is he flirting with me too?

Right then and there I decided that whatever game they were playing, I would have no part in it. I would not come between two friends. I’m not that kind of woman.

I did another demo for Rio to refresh his memory and now he’s ready to go.

“You may want to start off with a piece of clay the size of your fist.”

Quirking an eyebrow in my direction Rio looks at me as if I just suggested he streak down Madison Ave. However, something tells me he would do that anyway.

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