Page 39 of Zen's Crash

“You don’t even have a computer. You need to stay here until we can figure this out.”

I turn on my heel in front of his door and glare at him. “I’m clearly not in danger if my father’s the killer, right?”

“Look, we’re just exploring that as a possibility. We won’t know until the crime lab finishes analyzing that kill bag. In the meantime, we still haven’t figured out who’s bugging your computer, which means you might still have a stalker. And thepolice never did find your father’s killer, so that means he’s still out there somewhere.”

“I’m beginning to think this is all bullshit. It might be like the police suggested, we were the victims of a random home invasion gone wrong by some tweaker looking for drug money.”

“How do you explain what we found on that flash drive, Lexi?”

“It might just have been my parents playing detective while they were trying to stay one step ahead of the killer. Maybe they were just trying to maintain some awareness of where he was in order to avoid him?”

Zen frowns at me. I’m not even sure I believe the words coming out of my mouth. The one thing I’m sure of is that my dad’s no serial killer. I just don’t know how to get Zen to believe me about that.

A short silence spins out between us, and then he speaks. “Look, Lexi, I know things have been stressful for you over the last year. I didn’t mean to point fingers at your dad, nor did I have any intention of pushing you over the edge into hysterics.”

I rein in my fury long enough to tell him, “I’m not hysterical, you asshole. I’m just good and damn angry at you for accusing my deceased father of being a damn serial killer.”

“Let’s both calm the fuck down for a minute and just agree to go where the facts lead us.”

“No. This is all too much for me. You’re right about me being on stress overload. I just want to go home, lock myself in my safe room, and work on my custom desktop build. Give me a couple of days to cool off while you break down my computerand try to find out how some nutjob has breached my security protocols.”

“You really want to leave me?” His voice seems more hurt than it ought to be when it comes to getting rid of a pain in the ass like me.

I take a step towards him, still mad but looking for a way to break it to him without hurting his feelings. “Look, Zen, we’ve only spent twenty-four hours together, plus some meetups at the clubhouse. Whatever is going on between us is too new to start getting attached. We need to slow down and pay attention to the danger, try to figure out what’s going on and if my dad’s killer is wound up in all this. There’ll be time to worry about us after.”

His eyes lift, and suddenly he’s staring at a spot over my right shoulder. When he speaks, his voice is wooden and a bit hollow. “In order for there to be an after, I have to protect you in the here and now. But you don’t want me, do you?”

“Not if all I’m going to bring to your life is trouble. I appreciate you trying to help me—I really do. All I have to bring to the table is danger, drama—and like you said, hysterics. I want better for you than that. Maybe one day I’ll get my life sorted and be able to have nice things. When that happens, you’ll be the very first nice thing I’ll come running to. In the meantime, I need to concentrate on sorting my life out.”

“My club is already involved. They won’t quit until they find your father’s killer. Neither will I. You’ve got my word on that.”

I close my eyes and drop my head forward until my chin is touching my chest. After silently counting to ten, I lift my eyes to his. “I might be really scared and confused right now, but I’mcertain of one thing. My dad wasn’t a killer. I don’t care what the clues say. I’ll never believe that of him in a million years.”

Zen gazes at me, his expression now totally blank. “I understand. I truly hope that’s what the investigation reveals. Remember my club brothers are outside your place around the clock. If you need anything at all, just text that group chat number I gave you and they’ll come running. I’ll get the message too and come running.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary, but who knows? My life seems like a total crapshoot lately.” By this time all my anger has drained away, leaving me feeling exhausted and numb.

I hear a honk and quickly pull the door open, gesturing to the driver that I’ll be right out. Suddenly, Zen is right behind me. He slips his arm around me and pulls me back against his front. I feel him nuzzle his face against my hair, and he whispers in my ear, “I like you a lot, Lexi. I promise we’re gonna figure this mess out. And one way or another, we’re gonna make sure your father gets justice, and you don’t have to look over your shoulder for the rest of your life.”

I force myself to put one foot in front of the other because walking away from this man is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I’m already tearing up. I can’t risk talking because he’ll be able to tell I’m breaking down. So, I step out the door, giving him my back. As I rush down the sidewalk, tears start sliding down my face, blurring my vision. When I get to the car, my hand feels around for a second before I find the door handle. I pull it. When the door swings open, I climb inside and quickly shut the door behind me.

There’s a woman in the driver’s seat who asks, “Are you alright, hon? You look like you’re having a rough morning.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna be just fine. Do you have the address?”

“I sure do.” She repeats my address, and once I verify it’s correct, she pulls away from the curb.

She asks curiously, “Is that big, shirtless biker yours?”

Turning to look over my shoulder, I see Zen standing outside his shop, watching me leave. He’s tall, handsome, and all sexy muscles and tattoos. My heart aches at the sight of him. I mumble an answer to her question, “Honestly, I don’t know.”

“Well, if things get too rough for you, there’s a women’s shelter in town. They’ll help you get a fresh start.”

I catch sight of her kindly face in the rearview mirror and give her a faint smile. “No! It’s nothing like that. If anyone’s the problem, it’s probably me. I’ll remember what you said, though.”

She tries to cheer me up with small talk for the rest of the trip, which is better than me brooding over my problems or crying my eyes out. By the time we pull up to my house, I’m looking dry-eyed and like someone who should be among the living.

Ignoring Zen’s club brothers who are milling about outside, I rush into the house, go straight to the safe room, and lock the door behind me. Standing with my back to the door, I let out a relieved breath. Tossing my bag onto the bed and taking off my jacket, I walk over and sit down at the table in front of the custom-build computer I’ve been working on. When I pick up my tools and get started on this project again, my mind roams, but not over my problems. I’ve shoved all that aside to think about Zen—how his eyes seem to gaze into my very soul, the way his smile warms my heart from the inside out, and howamazing the orgasms he gives are. My memories all contort into fantasies of us being together, of us laughing and loving. If I’m totally honest, the strength of my attraction scares me a little.

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