Page 34 of Shattered Dreams

“Yep. They couldn’t find anything on her, and her attorney gave the DA’s office an ultimatum. Charge her or let her go, and they took off her tracker. They have Clayton and Ash, I guess they figure even if Willow had knowledge of something, they hooked the bigger fish.”

“I wonder what she’s going to do now.”

Zane cocks an eyebrow. “Pick up where she and Rourke left off?”

Remembering Rourke’s description of the way Willow fucks against a wall, something I’m all too clear on now that I’ve had Zarah in the shower, the scenario is all too likely. “I’d prefer not to think about that—for my mother’s sake, at least.”

“Why did your mother and father divorce?”

“She wanted more. More ambition, more money, more...life, I guess. Pop’s happy working cases, staying in King’s Crossing, going out for a beer and watching a game. My mother loves the glamour of being a politician’s wife. There’s no way my father could have given her what she wanted.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’ve had thirty-six years to get used to it.”

The girls trot down the stairs, and our conversation fizzles out. We say goodbye, throwing around kisses and “See you tomorrows,” and it’s a relief to be left alone. Talking to Zane is like swimming with a shark that’s already fed. He’s not going to eat you, but the danger is there simply by being in his presence.

I didn’t anticipate sleeping here and didn’t pack a bag, but Zarah manages to scare up an extra toothbrush and when I’m undressed and sliding with sheer exhaustion into her bed, she runs downstairs and throws my clothes into the washer. “I’ll put them in the dryer later and you can have clean clothes in the morning.”

“Thanks.”

“It’s not a problem.” She pauses. “Thank you for staying here. I know you don’t want to.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to, but you’ve made it clear your space is important to you and it is to me, too. If I’m not giving you enough room, you need to tell me. You said you want my love to suffocate you and the concept is nice, but the reality would be stifling.”

She turns the light off and crawls into bed. Her face glows in the hallway light that wavers into her room. Even tired and stressed out, she’s beautiful, and despite all the obstacles she has to contend with, any man would be lucky to have her. It’s humbling she picked me.

Her lips graze my shoulder as she speaks. “I feel like I’m stumbling in the dark, tripping over things I can’t see. No matter how slow I go, I know I’m going to hurt myself.”

It’s the kind of metaphor I don’t think she could have come up with when we first met. Maybe she’s growing into herself faster than she thinks or maybe she’s more comfortable with me and not monitoring her thoughts. If that’s the case, I’m glad. I want her to be able to tell me anything, always.

“Or, you can think of it this way...if you trip, I’ll always be there to catch you. Falling won’t hurt as much as you think it will.”

Pressing her body into mine, she says, “I like that.”

“I like you.”

She laughs, but the giggle ends on a sigh. “You meant it to be funny, but it’s not anything I’ll take for granted. I know I’m not educated, and I don’t know what I want to do with my life—”

“There are millions of people who only have high school diplomas. They work odd jobs because they don’t know what they want, either. You have plenty of time. There’s no rush, but maybe start thinking about this—the sale Zane brokered for Quiet Meadows went through. The building and land are yours.” I leave myself out of it. The last thing I need is to own a sanatorium.

She sits up and one of her nightgown straps falls down her shoulder. Sexy as fuck. “What am I going to do with it?”

“Tear it down and build something new, or go to school and get a degree in health administration and reopen it. The possibilities are endless, Zarah, and you have the resources to do what you like.”

“What will you do?”

“What do you mean?”

“If I reopen Quiet Meadows or choose to help Zane run our company, what will you do?”

I swallow a huge lump in my throat. This could be Pop and my mom all over again. “I like being a PI. I like the work we do. When Pop passes away...I don’t know if I’ll want to work cases without him, but for now I’m happy doing what I’m doing.”

“It’s sexy,” she says, settling back down by my side.

“That’s why I chose it.”

“You’re being funny again.”

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