Page 74 of Shattered Dreams

Zane thinks someone made Ash do it.

But that means whoever ordered the hit knew Max would be at the fundraiser. How did he know Max, Zane, Stella, Quinn, and Mel would attend the governor’s gala? No one knew they were planning on crashing the party to expose the Blacks and Vance Huxley.

Had Max told anyone? It seems unlikely he would risk everyone’s safety.

Stella wouldn’t say anything, and Quinn? I would have to ask Stella, but who would Quinn tell? Nathalie Barton chose the wrong side when she trusted Ash instead of staying loyal to Zane. How much did she know? How much information did she pass on (and to whom?) before Ash killed her, pushing her into the Renegade, her hands bound behind her back?

Zarah and Ingrid were at the penthouse when all that went down. Could someone have tricked either of them into giving away Zane’s plans?

I throw my jacket on the floor and kick off my boots. Sleeping on the couch tonight. Baby jumps up next to me and snuggles between my legs. There’s no way I can sleep in my bed. Fuck, if Zarah tells me she never wants to see me again because she let Jerricka convince her I’m a loser who only wanted sex and money, I’ll have to move.

There are too many memories in this apartment and I can’t live here without her.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Zarah

At some point Jerricka rouses me from my sleep, shoving a pill into my mouth and tipping a glass full of wine to my lips. She holds me still, her fingers yanking at my hair, and forces me to swallow it.

She waits to be sure the pill goes down my throat and then pushes me back onto the floor.

My tolerance for alcohol is nothing, and even the small amount I swallowed spins my vision.

She doesn’t say what she shoved into my mouth, and I don’t ask. I don’t care.

My whole world is destroyed.

Stella’s dead, Gage was forced to give me up to keep Linc safe, and Zane, my poor brother. How will he function without Stella? She’s all he’s lived for, and now she’s gone.

The wine burns my stomach, and I suck in the basement’s cool air trying desperately not to throw up. I want whatever Jerricka gave me to work. If she’s giving me the pills that mademy memory lapse, then I want more. I want them all. I want to forget the pain of losing my family.

I didn’t believe at first that’s what was happening, that Jerricka would want to hurt me, but now I know she never had my best interests at heart, she never cared about me as a patient. I was blind, thinking after all this time I could trust her, but all she’d really been doing was breaking down my self-esteem and tricking me into believing I wasn’t getting better, creating a dependency so that I needed her more, not less.

Her job was that much easier when I met Gage. How simple it was for her to reinforce my feelings of not being good enough. How easy it was for her to convince me he could do better. She’d been working on me all along, creating conflict in our relationship, so when she took me, he wouldn’t bother to look for me.

I’m too numb and too cold to cry, and I pray all night for a rescue that will never come.

Jerricka wakes me, poking a toe into my ribs. “Get up. You need to shower and dress. We’re having visitors today.”

I don’t move. I don’t care who’s coming here.

She sighs and kneels beside me. “I know you’re sad. Stella is a great loss, and it’s heartbreaking to know the man you love doesn’t love you the same way. I’ve experienced that. I know what it’s like to be in a one-sided relationship. It hurts, it really does. But didn’t I tell you Gage Davenport was no good for you? Didn’t he prove that, dating that redheaded skank the second you broke up? He’s not going to miss you, and you’re better off without him. Now get up and shower. You’ll feel better. You didn’t eat dinner last night, and I’m fixing pancakes. Themedication works faster if you have something in your stomach. Don’t make this harder than it has to be. You won’t believe me, but I don’t like hurting you.”

She’s right, I don’t. I think she finds a sick pleasure in breaking my heart over and over again.

Gripping my arm, she jerks me off the floor, and I stumble unsteadily to my feet. I’m lightheaded and my stomach hasn’t lost the queasy, hollow feeling it had last night. I search through my memories, and they all seem to be intact. Gage’s kisses, baking with Stella and Lucille. Talking to Zane about Mom and Dad, Douglas driving me into the city. Of course, I wouldn’t remember the things I can’t remember, if that makes sense, but Baby’s name comes to me, her bright blue eyes and the way she’d lick my cheek. All the pieces are there, sharp, cutting me, taunting me, fragments of my past life that I’ll never have again.

I trudge up the stairs, her hand to my back, and she leads me to the bedroom where she unpacked my suitcases, even going so far as laying a change of clothes on the bed.

“Shower. I put all your toiletries in the bathroom. I’ll be waiting downstairs in the kitchen.”

I do as she says, not because I want to cooperate, but because there’s no reason not to. There’s nowhere for me to go. Zane isn’t going to look for me—I went with Jerricka willingly. Maybe, if he can stop mourning Stella for one minute, he’ll search for her killer, not me. I’m an afterthought in everyone’s mind, like I’ve always been.

I wash and shave my legs, blow dry my hair, and put on makeup. I dress in the jeans and blouse Jerricka chose for me and go downstairs to the kitchen. She’s watching pancakes brown, a man dressed in jeans and a black sweater pressed against her back. He’s nibbling her neck, and she’s giggling, trying to flip a pancake.

They sense someone behind them and turn around.

The man looks familiar, but I need a second to place him. “Dr. Pederson.”

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