Page 25 of Shattered Dreams

After Gage lets Baby out and feeds her the kibble I asked Douglas to pick up at the twenty-four hour pet store, it’s close to two in the morning. I’m tired, but I’m too keyed up to sleep. Gage and I lie on the couch in front of the fireplace, the fake flame the only light in the entire penthouse. We’re wrapped in a throw, and it’s so cozy, I want to stay like this forever.

Reality will rear its ugly head sooner rather than later, and I need to start working, actively working, on getting better. I don’t want things like this to keep happening. Things like me breaking up with Gage, things like me messing up the best parts of my life.

He nuzzles the top of my head, and I wiggle closer, tucking myself as tightly as I can against his chest.

“Did Zane tell you about Ingrid?” he asks.

“Yes.” Nothing has been on my mind except Gage. I feel bad about that now, and I try not to cry.

“Then you know she’s dead.”

My voice wobbles. “Someone killed her.”

“Yeah. She was murdered, in an old warehouse near the Renegade. Pop and I went to check it out. It was gruesome, how she died, and maybe that whack job had something to do with it, I don’t know. We tell you not to go anywhere alone, and you need to start listening now. Zane doesn’t want you upset, but we’re past that. Your safety’s at stake.”

I press my face into his t-shirt. “It’s my fault she’s dead.”

“No, it’s not, and I don’t want you to think that way. This started long before what happened to you. While your dad and Clayton Black were friends.” He pauses. “I asked Zane to buy Quiet Meadows.”

“Why?”

“I want him to tear it down.”

Pleasure shoots through me. To watch the place that has been a source of misery for so many pulled apart brick by brick, like my life has been torn apart, memory by memory.

I push one of my hands under his t-shirt and lay my palm against his warm skin. “I did some snooping on Peggy’s computer tonight. That’s why I went downstairs.” I tell him what I found out about Dr. Stephen Mallory and my flashback that might not have been real. “He worked with dementia patients there. Some of the articles made it sound like he did a lot of good for people.”

“But not for you.”

“Maybe not for me.” I sigh and rest my head on his shoulder.

“When are you going to LA?” Gage asks, running his fingertips up and down my back.

I swallow hard and shake my head. “I don’t want to go now. I want to stay with you.”

“I think you should. Not because I don’t want you here, but remember why you broke it off? Because you wanted to explore, experience new things? That hasn’t gone away, Zarah. If you felt like that before we broke up, you’ll still feel like that after we’re back together. You’re so concerned that you’re holding me back, but I don’t want to do that to you, either.”

“You’re not holding me back if I want to be here.”

He laughs, and it rumbles out of his chest. “Why would I believe that if you don’t believe it when I say it?”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“I know I am.” He brushes a kiss over my temple, and his beard tickles my cheek.

“Will you come with me? You could meet Mel.”

He blows out a breath. “I’d like to, Christ, do I need the vacation, but Pop and I are looking into Ingrid’s death. If we can figure out who killed her, maybe we can answer some other questions.”

“Like what?”

“Like why patients from Quiet Meadows are dying. What was really going on there. There’s more to that place than what’s on the surface. Every question I ask creates more questions. I want to start finding answers.”

“And you can’t do that in LA.”

“I don’t want to do that in LA. It’s good you want to do things on your own. You need that and I’ve never disagreed with it. You can explore without us having to break up. I’ll always be here, waiting for you to come back.”

“I’ll miss you,” I say, tears scratching my throat. I don’t want to think about leaving him after only just finding him again, but I can’t cry—I’m getting what I want.

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