Page 5 of Shattered Dreams

At an ungodly hour, Baby noses me awake. It’s not her “I have to pee” whine, either. Someone’s banging on the door.

I fell asleep on the couch last night, and I roll to my feet, Max’s journal falling onto the floor. I leave it there and rub my eyes. “Hold on, hold on.”

Zane’s standing on the other side of the door when I pull it open, and I shuffle backward to let him in. I haven’t had any coffee, and I can’t deal with him until I have some caffeine pumping through my veins. “She dumped me. Didn’t you get the memo?”

I swish water around in the carafe and leave it under the tap as I throw out old grounds and dump new ones into a clean filter.

“I’m not here about that.”

“Hmmph.”

He looks disgustingly fresh in jeans and a sweater, and he hasn’t shaved. His hair is longer than I normally see it, and his shoes drip water onto my kitchen floor.

The coffeemaker trickles its sweet nectar into the carafe, and I lean silently against the counter, my brain muzzy. Without an invitation, he sits at the table, resting an arm on the sparkling surface. I should get rid of the table, too, and irritated, I bat the idea away. It’s too fucking early. Thank Christ it isn’t long before there’s enough in the carafe to fill two mugs, and he doesn’t speak until I give him one. I gulp. I don’t care if it’s bitter or not hot enough.

“Did you hear about Ingrid?”

“Hmm.” My brain is still only half functioning. Pity the poor soul who has an emergency in the middle of the night and is counting on me for help.

“That doesn’t say much to me.”

“Yeah. I saw it on the news. Better?”

“More coherent. Have any guesses what happened to her?”

I shrug. “Not really. I dug around and found out she bought a bus ticket to Chicago. I was going to email you and Stella, but other things got in my way.”

“She wasn’t in Chicago.”

I swear under my breath. “No kidding.”

“What do you think they wanted?”

I slant him a glance. My tats are stark against my skin, my muscles straining my t-shirt’s sleeves. We’re two different people, and the differences aren’t lost on me. “Fuck if I know. You talk to the cops?”

“They questioned me.”

That’s all he says, and annoyed, I circle my hand in the air to keep him going. “And?”

Zane sips his coffee. “The usual. When did we see her last, why did we let her go, that kind of thing.”

“Does Zarah know?”

He shakes his head. “No, and I don’t want her to find out. We’re luckyTruth or Darecares more about you and her at the moment and hasn’t caught wind of it.”

I grimace. “Could be the cops are leaning on them to keep a lid on it for now.” I pause. “Stella knows.”

“Yeah. She was going to talk to you, but I said I’d do it. The girls are doing a spa day to get ready for tonight.”

Despite the crap we’re talking about, his happiness breaks through the gloom. Well, fuck. If I was marrying the love of my life, I’d be happy too.

“Congratulations.” I hope he can hear the sincerity in my voice. I really do wish him and Stella the best.

He tries not to smile, but it doesn’t work. “Thanks. I fucked up so many times. How she still loves me is a mystery, but one I don’t want to solve. I’ll take it and shut the fuck up.”

“Good idea.”

“Will you go out there?”

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