Page 19 of Zen's Crash

When he looks into my eyes, I see the depth of his empathy, “He was murdered during a break-in, and the killer was never caught. That must be terrifying for you.”

I nod, taking another mouthful of beer with shaking hands. “Here’s the part no one knows. The killer found a picture ofme and saw my dad glancing towards our security camera. He realized that I might be hidden somewhere watching the feed. He gestured that I could trade myself for my dad.”

“Fuck me. I’m glad you didn’t take him up on that offer. You and your father would probably both be dead.”

I wrap my arms around my stomach and glance away.

“Shit, you tried to, didn’t you?”

The shock in his voice feels like cold jab to my heart. Turning back to look at him, I say, “Of course I tried. By that time, my father was already in bad shape.”

“He was never gonna let the witness to his crime go. Tell me you understand that, Lexi?”

“I think I was aware that was a strong possibility at the time, but I had to chance it. My dad’s life was on the line. I thought maybe I could buy us some time until the cops came. I was desperate. Isn’t that what love is, putting the one you love before yourself?”

Even though I try to be strong, I feel myself tearing up. That’s all it takes for Zen to scoot over and wrap his arm around me, pulling me close. Feeling his body heat and the scent of leather calms me down. So I let him hold me awkwardly while I finish my story. “In the end it didn’t matter anyway. My father locked me in and by the time the man realized I might be hiding, the police were near enough for him to hear the sirens. He shot my dad and made his escape. When the police arrived, they were too late to save my father. I was still on the phone with the dispatcher, and she told them I was in the basement. They broke the lock on the outside of the safe room and let me out.”

“Fucking hell, Lexi. I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

“Yeah, me too. But I’m even sorrier for my dad. He was a good man who lived his whole life in fear that something bad was going to happen. And then it did—almost like all his worrying somehow manifested his worst fears into reality.”

Zen holds me tight. “You know what I’m fucking gonna do? I’m gonna find that fucker that killed your dad and make him regret the fucking day he was born.”

Feeling safe and protected in his arms I murmur, “That’s a lot of fucks to give about a situation that doesn’t involve you.”

His arms tighten around me and he tells me, “I’m just sick and tired of all the evil fuckers in the world running roughshod over the rest of us. Some depraved asshole broke into your house and decided to make you an orphan for no fucking reason. Some other asshole decided to steal my little sister’s life savings. Someone stole money from me a few days ago. Why can’t all the ignorant fuckers just stay in their lane and let people live their lives?”

I pull back and look up into his angry, exasperated face. “I know the answer to that question. It’s because they start small and work their way to bigger and more horrific shit because no one stops them.”

Gazing down at me, his hand comes up to cup the side of my face. I like the way he seems to be pouring his strength into me. “How about you and me team up to find the ignorant fuck who killed your old man in cold blood? We can bring him to justice and keep him from killing someone else’s loved one?”

My throat closes up because Zen is the first person who’s offered real, boots-on-the-ground, help in finding my dad’s killer. Unable to speak, I nod before quickly throwing my arms around his neck and giving him the biggest, tightest bear hug a lady like me can manage. I whisper, “I would love a little help finding my dad’s killer. All I’ve wanted for the last ten months is justice.”

“Well, I’ve decided that I’m gonna get my club involved. We’re stronger together than any one of us is by ourselves. I’ve learned that the hard way.”

“I’ve been alone for so long. Even when my father was alive, he spent an inordinate amount of time worried about security. I felt like I was between a rock and a hard place. I could either go full-on conspiracy theorist in order to spend time with him—which wasn’t good for my mental health—or just let him get on with it and submerge myself into the online world.”

“Don’t feel guilty for choosing your mental health. No one can exist in a paranoid state year after year without it affecting them.”

“That’s the weird part for me. He was always so strict about locking doors, not just at the end of the night like normal folks, but every single time we came or went. The police said there was no evidence of forced entry.”

Zen muses out loud, “That either means he knew and halfway trusted his attacker, or he slipped up and left the door unlocked on the very day some random stranger decided to rob him.”

“Yeah, that’s where I am on the break-in. The odds of a random house invasion the one time he slipped up is astronomical. But on the other hand, my dad was too paranoidto have friends. He kept everyone at arm’s length. I can’t see him opening the door and allowing someone to walk right into the very house he was obsessed with protecting.”

“I’m gonna ask you something, Lexi, and I want you to answer me honestly. I’m not trying to be a dick here, but did your father have a drug problem?”

“What?” I gasp. “Of course not! Why would you automatically jump to that conclusion?”

He gazes into my eyes and tells it to me straight, “Because your old man was paranoid someone was out to get him. He was fixated on securing his home. Yet, he either forgot to lock the door or his judgment was so impaired that he let in someone who ended up killing him. Can you see how all of that might point to a longtime drug addiction?”

I stiffen in my seat and look down at my hands, which are twisting nervously in my lap. “If he was doing drugs, wouldn’t I have noticed? I never saw him exhibit any behavior that made me suspect he was using drugs. I never saw white powder in his nostrils, never saw him sweating and shaking the way addicts do when they go into withdrawal and, most importantly, I read the medical examiner’s report that verified he didn’t have drugs or alcohol in his system.”

Zen sighs and takes another mouthful of his beer. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m totally wrong about that issue. I apologize for bringing it up.”

Surprised, my eyes fly back up to his gaze. I realize a second too late that my mouth is hanging open.

He gives me an indulgent smile. “If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s admitting when I’ve made a mistake and apologizing.”

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