Page 94 of Shattered Dreams

She’ll need time to grieve. Drugs have buried her pain, and that’s a lot of hurt to remember all at once.

Zane left me a voicemail this morning and said Zarah’s done taking the antidote. She’s doing well and they’re going to be spending time in the city. It wasn’t an invitation to visit thepenthouse, and I didn’t read it as one. Zarah knows my phone number. If she wants to talk to me, she will.

Right now I’m at my apartment packing up my things. The fire made me realize I should have moved out a long time ago. It’s a decent apartment in a not-so-decent part of the city, and I can afford better. Max left me some money I didn’t want and Mom reimbursed me the rent I squandered hiding from my responsibilities. Adding the check Stella gave me for working the case and a truck I don’t have to make payments on, I’m actually not doing too bad. Where I want to move, I have no idea. I guess it was too soon to hope Zarah and I would find a place together. Even if she does call and expresses some interest in picking up where we left off, she might only want to date, see if we’re still a good fit. It’d be smart, for both of us. I don’t know who she is now that her personality, her spirit, isn’t suppressed by a thick layer of drugs.

Those are only excuses. You don’t have to call me out on it. I want more than dates and goodnight kisses. I want to live with her, marry her, and someday start a family. I want everything she has, and when I was at Pop’s, I asked if I could have the engagement ring my grandpa gave my grandma. It’s not much, worth only a fraction of what Zarah could afford to buy for herself, but the Zarah I know would treasure it for the promise behind it.

If she’s still that same woman.

A lot of my things were damaged by the fire, smoke, and water. My couch is a loss, but my TV survived somehow, and I’m playing CNN on low. The fire didn’t reach my bedroom, but my clothes stink and instead of trying to salvage them, I’ll buy a new wardrobe.

The landlord hired a construction company to board up the window and the sections of the wall and roof that are missing. He can’t actually repair the building until the investigation isdone and the insurance claim goes through. It was a quick fix and they did an okay job, but it’s cold in here and the floor’s a sopping mess. I’ve been staying at Pop’s, but I’ll find a different place to sleep tonight. I think he’s getting tired of me being underfoot, and I can’t blame him. I’ve been surly and worried and two weeks is a long time to put up with that. Mom invited me to stay with her, but there’s no way in hell I’m sleeping in a house that Rourke owns. I hate that fucking asshole, and I’m sick all over again he paid to hurt Zarah.

I’ve made it my mission to keep him behind bars for the rest of his pathetic life.

I tape a box closed and reach for another. I have a lot more to do, and I’m glad there’s room in the storage unit I rented that has Max’s things in it. I’m in limbo, and maybe I’ll move into a hotel until...well, I don’t know. What I want I may never have.

Someone knocks on my door and sweat beads over my skin. I want it to be Zarah, but I know it’s not. Zane hasn’t been a stranger to my apartment, but he’s always been a little more...aggressive than the faint knock. It could be the insurance appraiser, a reporter, a cop. It could be anybody. The cleanup of this case is only just beginning.

Taking a deep breath, I open the door and rear back in surprise. Viv stands there looking self-conscious, biting her lip.

“Hey,” I say, stepping aside to let her in. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I, ah, oh, God. Areyouokay?” she asks, catching sight of the fire damage.

“It wasn’t as bad as it looks. I got involved in a bad case, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Things like that happen.”

She stands awkwardly in the middle of my little living room, her hands tucked into the back pockets of her jeans. “I wanted to thank you again for helping me and Lacey. She’s in part-timepreschool now, and I have a different job. I registered for an online program, like you said. I’m majoring in human resources and enrolling in business classes, too.”

“That’s great, Viv. Let me write you another check.”

“I didn’t come here to ask for money.”

“But you won’t say no.”

She stares at the floor. “No, I won’t.” Looking up at me she says, “Gage, I’m not the same person I used to be. I didn’t appreciate what we had. Adventure and excitement are nothing compared to being in a steady relationship with someone who loves you. Would you, I mean, do you want to go out for coffee sometime and talk?”

If I hadn’t met Zarah, I probably would have taken Viv up on her offer. I used to love her. But I did meet Zarah, and I miss her strength, her courage. I miss the way she would show me her weaknesses, her vulnerabilities, trusting me despite her history. I miss her shattering in my arms as we made love.

I miss all those things, and I have a deep fear they’ll never be mine again.

“I’m happy to help you get back on your feet, but I’ve moved on, and so should you.”

“You’re not seeing Zarah Maddox anymore. It’s been all over the news she’s recuperating.”

That’s why I turned my TV to CNN and not ESPN. I wanted to catch glimpses of her, little pieces of news, but the only things they’ve reported are what Zane has let them know—that Dr. Pederson and Dr. Mallory formulated an Alzheimer’s drug, Zarah had been a test subject at Quiet Meadows, and for the past two weeks, in an undisclosed location, she’s been receiving the antidote and is successfully recovering her memory. Zane told me where she is, trusting me not to tell anyone.

That’s an aspect of Zarah’s life I never could quite wrap my head around. How many people want to know what she’s doingevery single second. I could have sold her location for thousands of dollars,hundredsof thousands of dollars, just like Ingrid tried to sell information. In their world, there will always be sellers and there will always be buyers.

“No, I’m not seeing her anymore, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to date someone else. I gotta figure out some personal shit first, and that could take me a while.”

Max’s award survived the fire, and I wrap it in a blanket smelling of smoke to keep it safe during the move and pack it in an empty box.

She watches me and says softly, “I see. I’m sorry if I had a part in that.”

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