Page 8 of Shattered Dreams

God, wouldn’t that just be a kicker. Her meeting a celebrity and falling in love, moving out there and having little golden babies.

I gotta get babies off my brain. I never thought of them before meeting Zarah. No good to be thinking about them now.

“Got another divorcée to look into, if you feel up to it. Doesn’t want to pay alimony if he doesn’t have to.”

“Ah, the good old days.”

“If you ask me, better than looking around old warehouses where women were murdered.”

I feed Baby half my biscuit. “Can’t argue with you there.”

We finish breakfast and head out. I had to look up where Ingrid Flannigan was killed, and it’s a trek across King’s Crossing. There are a couple of industrial parks in the city. I live in one, my apartment complex close to an auto body shop that’s used as a front to hide a counterfeit purse operation, and the other is across the city, north, along the opposite bank of the Renegade, where Stella and Quinn Sawyer were shoved into a shipping container on a cargo ship headed for only God knows where.

“Who owns the warehouse?” Pop asks.

“Fuck if I know,” I say, but I dig my phone out of my pocket and open a browser to try to research it. Even if I find out acompany name, that doesn’t mean I’m going to be able to drill down to who actually owns the place.

“How are you doing?”

Pop glues his eyes to the road. He’s only touching base, and I try not to let it bother me. He’s worried, but he doesn’t have to be.

“You weren’t this concerned when Viv dumped me.”

“You didn’t love Viv as much as you love Zarah.”

I scoff. “Are you kidding? She wrecked me when she dumped me for that other guy. What was his name? Tristian? Christian? Sebastian? Something prissy.”Tate.Blech.

“You got over her quick enough. Too quick for a man who thought she was going to be his forever.”

“I’m over Zarah, too.”

Pop chuckles. “Are you now?”

“Sure, if Zane and Stella can stay out of my face. Both bitched me out for that photo onTruth or Dare. He did, twice, like I didn’t hear him the first time.”

“What were you and Sierra doing anyway? The night Zarah says she needs to—” Pop waves his hand around in the air, trying to find the right words.

“Do other things?” I say tactfully.

“I guess you can put it that way.”

“Fucking around, and I had no reason not to. No one likes to be told they aren’t enough, Pop. Mom told you that, and she jumped into Rourke’s bed before you could blink. At least Zarah and I don’t have a kid.”

Pop glances at me. “We did okay by you. I tried my best.”

“Not saying you didn’t. You’re lucky she let me do what I wanted or I never would have seen you. Zarah...if we would’ve had kids, I don’t think I would have seen them again.”

“She doesn’t seem like the type to do that.”

“Zarah avoids what hurts her. I never thought for a minute she doesn’t love me. I know for a fact she does, but there have been enough people telling her she needs more, and she listened. She’ll avoid me because it hurts to see me. That’s fine. It’ll hurt me to see her, too.” I scroll through the Google results. “Why are we talking about this again?”

“Just checking in.”

“I’m fine.”

“Did you sleep with her?”

I press on a result. “Who?” I start skimming an article in the business section of theKCChroniclethat’s three years old.

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