Page 42 of Shattered Hearts

Stella falls asleep in my bed, and it’s nice to listen to her breathe as I lie next to her, rolling the implications around in my mind.

Willow’s locked up. She and Rourke aren’t seeing each other anymore. I wonder if she misses him. If she loved him. People think Willow’s a freak, an animal they can gawk at through the glass, but she’s human, has a heart and soul. It must have been lonely being married to Clayton, and I don’t blame herfor looking for love wherever she could find it. You’re probably asking why she didn’t get a divorce if she was that miserable, but it doesn’t happen like that. An attorney would have to have a death wish to go up against Clayton Black. Willow would never have found an attorney willing to try, and even if she could have, she never would have been able to afford it. And if by chance shecould, the judge presiding over her case would more than likely be a crony and do whatever Clayton wanted.

It was much easier to tolerate her marriage, try to find what she needed elsewhere, and pray to God she didn’t get caught.

That’s why Willow tried to watch over me. Once I got trapped in Ash’s web, there was no escape. It’s been seven years since Ash stole my virginity at Temptations, seven years since Ash asked me to marry him, and I’m still writhing desperately in fear, waiting for the spider to strike.

Maybe I’ll never be free of Ash. Maybe, like Gage said, he’ll always think he owns me.

The maze of his lies and what-ifs is exhausting, and I snuggle next to Stella, her body heat comforting me. She thanks me for introducing her to Zane, but it’s the other way around. She saved what was left of my family, and I thank her every day. If she hadn’t fallen in love with my brother, if she’d had one ounce less of courage, or if she hadn’t believed with all her heart that my parents’ deaths weren’t accidents, I’m not sure where we would be now.

If she had given up, trapped at Black Enterprises, if she’d accepted that she would be Ash’s slave for the rest of her life, I’d still be in Quiet Meadows, a prisoner in my own mind.

Without us, Stella would have lived a good life. She’s smart and has drive. But without Stella, my life, my fate, was sealed by Zane’s blind faith in Ash’s lies.

I fall asleep holding her hand.

The next morning I crawl out of bed and pad barefoot to the kitchen. Stella’s still sleeping, and I don’t wake her.

Dressed for work, Zane’s sitting at the table reading the paper and sipping a mug of coffee. A rush of love swamps me, and I hug him fiercely, catching him off guard. The tentativeness we’ve been feeling toward each other is fading, and I hope he’s finally realizing he can’t shoulder the blame for every single thing Clayton and Ash have done—even from prison.

“You stole my fiancée last night,” he says, rubbing my back and letting me go, “but I’ll give you a pass this once.” He smiles and humor warms his eyes.

“I’m sure I wouldn’t be a good long-term replacement. We were up late talking.” I pour myself a mug of coffee. The kitchen feels strange without Lucille, the silent TV that always used to play the morning talk shows she loves so much.

Zane folds the paper into a neat rectangle. “I didn’t get mad yesterday,” he starts, and I resist the urge to sigh and leave the kitchen in a huff. Here comes the lecture. Here comes the “I’m on too many drugs and can’t take care of myself” speech.

“Mostly because I want to believe the explosion doesn’t have anything to do with us. I’m sure being a private investigator has its own pitfalls, but as long as the Blacks are alive and as long as we’re Maddoxes, we may always have to live looking over our shoulders. I’m sorry, Zarah.”

I blink. That wasn’t what I was expecting. “Sorry for what?”

“All of it.”

“You can’t take responsibility for all of it. I won’t let you. Dad and Clayton were friends all their lives, and Dad trusted him. Why should you have been any different? The Blacks have been sleazy for a long time. We didn’t know, and that’s not your fault.”

“I try to believe that. I’d hoped when we exposed them at Ash’s fundraiser that this would be over, but Clayton and Ash arepulling strings on a puppet we can’t see. Something’s happening, but I don’t know what.”

“Maybe it’s as simple as jealousy.”

“I don’t know, Z. Clayton was into some nasty shit. We thought he was selling weapons for the money, but maybe there was more. Something that’s classified. If the FBI knows what or who or why, Banks didn’t tell me, and back then, I didn’t care about anything except keeping you and Stella safe. When she was with her parents, all I could think about was helping you get better and hoping I hadn’t fucked up so much she didn’t want to come back. The things Ash did at the club, the girls, Nathalie. I was a part of that. I’d be in prison too, if I hadn’t had a hand in putting them away. Up until now, it’s been about sex and money, but Clayton didn’t care about sex. There was only one thing Clayton Black cared about more than money, and that was power. What was he after, Zarah? And why am I only asking now? It might be too late.”

At some point, Stella walked into the kitchen, and she stands next to me.

I’ve never seen the look in Zane’s eyes as he stares at Stella now. Like she’s saving him from a lifetime of torture.

“Every day I try to be the man you need me to be,” he whispers, cupping her face in his hands. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes. It’s by God’s grace you see past them.” He kisses her, and she wraps her arms around him.

I miss Gage so much. I know in my heart, I know, it’s impossible to see him as much as I want. He works, and he would still work, even if I told him he could stop. I miss him, and watching Zane and Stella devour each other, I feel funny. I want what they have.

They worked hard for it.

Gage and I will have to, too.

Zane sighs, tenderly kisses the tip of her nose, and slings an arm around my neck the way he used to, before he was scared to touch me. “Be careful today. Don’t die.”

I’m amazed he can joke about it. Maybe he’s changed a little after all.

“I’ll see you at home for dinner?” he asks, grabbing his briefcase off the floor.

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