Page 25 of Shattered Hearts

She has a solution. Thank God she has a solution. I blow out a sigh of relief. There could be a reason my mind has been blinking out. Jerricka’s going to help me. I have to trust her.

Yes. I’m seeing Gage. We’re going to lunch.

Gage Davenport?

She knows Gage? How? No, wait. I’ve talked about him. Did I mention his last name? Yes, when I told her he was Max’s half-brother.

Yes.

Good. I’m glad you’ll have a pleasant New Year’s Day. Stay safe, Zarah. Don’t be afraid to ask me for help. I care about you.

Thank you,I respond and put my phone to sleep.

I’ve bothered her enough on a holiday.

I’m looking forward to seeing Gage, but apprehension stifles my happiness. I crawl out of bed and shower, setting the water to a cooler temperature. It wakes me up and rinses some of the fog out of my mind. Curiously, I touch myself. I’m aroused and wet, imagining Gage’s hands on me. If Jerricka’s suggestion doesn’t work, if my mind still keeps slipping in the next few days...I want him to make love to me. Slow, lazy love while I can still remember what it will feel like. To be touched by someone who treasures me, like I’m not something a man only wants to break, to destroy.

I’m swollen between my legs, but I don’t make myself come. I want Gage to do that. His love is a promise that will anchor me in the murky minutes and hours of my life.

I step out of the bathroom wrapped in my robe and Ingrid’s waiting, pills in hand. I’ll have another appointment with Dr. Reagan soon, but I doubt he’ll lower my dosage again. My episode at Gage’s freaked everyone out, and he and Zane are going to be more cautious. I try not to be bitter as I swallow the pills, Ingrid watching me. She knows all the tricks, and she’s told me about patients who tuck them under their tongues to spit them out later. I would never have the courage to do that. I’m too scared of the consequences.

I go through my usual beauty routine—hair, makeup, choose my clothes. It’s too cold for anything but jeans and a fuzzy sweater, and I’ll wear a pair of black, knee-high boots. We won’t do a fancy lunch. Burger joints and bars are more Gage’s style. He fit in at the Sweet Apple, but we don’t have to go there. There are a million restaurants in the city, and I’ll ask him to show me his favorite place.

I’m ready too early, and I walk down the hallway to Zane and Stella’s suite to wish them a Happy New Year and to tell them goodbye. I’m still trying to function like a normal adult and do things without asking permission, but Zane knows Douglas is driving me into the city and knows Gage and I are having lunch. I want to spend time with him, and my wants override my brother’s objections. He thinks Gage is rushing me, pushing me into a physical relationship. I’ve tried to explain that it’s me, that I crave touch, need someone toloveme, and IwantGage to kiss me, to hold me. That I’m willing to trade a piece of unstable security to feelwanted. It’s not a trade Zane approves of, and he probably has a point, but how can I explain Gage’s kisses do more for me than a million hours of therapy? Stella understands.My brother’s touch put her to together at the same time it ripped her apart.

I raise my hand to knock on their door, but I hear a moan.

The bed creaks.

My brother and Stella are making love, and my cheeks heat. I don’t want to be a voyeur, but I stand for a moment, someone’s jagged panting carrying through the door.

Stella cries out, Zane’s name a sob on her breath, and his reply is muffled. I picture him hiding his face in the graceful curve of her neck, holding her as she comes, her legs wrapped around his waist.

Two people can’t be closer.

Connected in love.

I want that with Gage.

If I can be glad about one thing, it’s that the drugs suppress a lot of what Ash’s jobs did to me. The pain and the feelings are still there, dregs of nightmares I can’t shake because what they did to me was real, but I can be thankful that every minute, every second, is buried under a chemical haze. There is still one man I can’t remember, but due to the drugs and the dark bedroom, it’s impossible for me to picture his face. All I can hope is that he’s in prison on a different charge and not free to do those things to other women.

The bed creaks again, and I hurry down the hall. I don’t want Zane to catch me spying. I’m so grateful he has Stella. I’m grateful she found it in her heart to forgive him for all he’s done.

Lucille asks if I want a late breakfast, but I decline. I’m a mess of jumbled nerves, the drugs and water sloshing queasily around in my stomach. I shouldn’t take them without food, but nothing sounds appetizing, not even a piece of toast.

I’m nervous about spending the day with Gage. My mind is clear, right now, this minute, but what will happen later is anyone’s guess. He’ll be more prepared if I go off the rails again,but I think I’m getting better at hiding when my brain blanks out. Ingrid had no idea I couldn’t remember her name, didn’t know I was scared of her. When her name came back, like a rubber band snapping into place, it was like nothing happened, as if her name had been in my mind all along.

I should be a master at pretending everything is fine, waiting out the blackness until it recedes and I’m back to normal. What normal I can have. It’s how I’ve lived since Zane brought me home.

Douglas is waiting, the car idling in front of the house. The sky is a crisp, cloudless blue, and the sun is blinding, glittering off the snow. I haven’t been in the woods for a few days, and I’d like to go out. After spending time in the city, I’ll need to recharge. Letting the dogs run in the forest is my favorite way to do that, but I’ll need to stay close or I could get turned around and not find my way back. In these temperatures, it would be easy to die of hypothermia. I shouldn’t go alone.

I’m so tired of my life.

We don’t listen to an audiobook on the way to King’s Crossing like we used to. I can’t follow a book’s plot anymore. The narrator’s words are a tangle of syllables, characters’ names and the things they do lost in the holes of my memory.

He seems content to drive in silence, and I watch the country as it bleeds into the city, the skyline sparkling in the sun, Maddox Industries one of the tallest buildings of them all.

Gage’s building is a welcome sight, and Douglas lets me out of the town car, fingers to the brim of his hat. “Do you need me to stay, Miss Maddox?”

---