Page 92 of Deliverance

“Do you need a ride home?” Zander finally makes his presence known.

I turn around to look at him, my pulse thrumming wildly in my throat and ears as I’m ultimately coming to terms with the fact that Rhys is back in my life.

“We can arrange a car,” Jethro says. “One of my guys will be happy to escort you to your place.”

I don’t want to go to my place. I don’t want to be alone. Period.“That won’t be necessary. Thank you.” I keep my gaze on Zander and something passes between us. Something we talked about earlier. Something that has no name or shape or color. Something terrifyingly fateful.

“It’s settled then, dear.” Tina pats Zander’s shoulder. “Don’t you let her out of your sight.”

We leave the gallery an hour later with no news about Rhys.

If Jethro’s team managed to locate him while I was on the main floor, doing my final round, I wasn’t notified.

Zander respectfully hangs back for the remainder of the evening and doesn’t dare to bring up the earlier events until we’re outside in the back alley, waiting for the valet attendant to bring his car. “You never told me you had a stalker.”

“Oh, well…you know…it’s not the most pleasant topic for a conversation.” I shrug as if Rhys is just a nuisance when, in reality, he’s far from it. He’s a havoc-wrecking bastard who apparently will stop at nothing to ruin my life.

Zander nods, and understanding flickers across his features. The fluorescent light shining from above sharpens the tiny lines in the corners of his eyes that—if my memory serves me right—only appear when he smiles.

“Are you hungry?” Zander asks out of the blue. At the mention of food, my stomach rumbles, demanding to be fed.

“I know a place.”

“They have parking?” he jokes.

“They do.”

We share a smile and I realize it’s my first one since the Rhys bomb and Zander’s the one who put it on my face.

As if on cue, his car emerges from around the corner and a second attendant hurries to open the door for me while Zander gets behind the wheel. After I put on my seatbelt and give him the address of the restaurant, we continue in dreadful silence until he turns on the radio and the sound of music releases some of the tension.

“I’m not usua—” I begin to explain.

“I didn’t me—” he blurts out at the same time as the vehicle comes to a halt at an intersection.

We glance at each other, our lips parted, unsaid words lingering in the air between us.

“You go first,” I tell him.

“Okay,” he agrees with a lighthearted smirk. “I was willing to give you the honors, but your wish is my command.” His tone grows serious. “I must have come off like a creep. I mean…you already have one stalker.”

“I’m sure you know more about stalkers than I do. You’re the hot drummer for a wildly successful band.”

“So you think I’m hot?” He quirks his brow.

Ahead, the light flicks back to green and the cars cramming the intersection start moving again. I use this small opportunity to divert the conversation away from Zander’s question. “I’m sorry you had to witness that. I’m usually not…this squirrely.”

“Don’t worry about it. I understand. Tonight was a lot.” He doesn’t elaborate, but I know it’s not the situation with Rhys he’s talking about.

He sawScars.

We spend the rest of the drive listening to music and discussing international cuisine while drifting past the shabby downtown structures with their small storefronts and dusty neon signs with missing letters. As always, the sidewalks are filled with people of all ages, rushing to get to their destination.

The restaurant we’re headed to is on the ground floor of a high rise, and I instruct Zander to park in the paid lot adjacent to the building to avoid being towed again.

“You know this area well,” he notes as we walk down a ramp and into the street.

“I spend a lot of time downtown,” I explain, gesturing at the glass doors ahead. “Most of the supplies I need for my projects can be found around here for a much better price than online. I get good deals since I buy in bulk.”

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