Page 176 of Seeking Shadows

“I’ll never leave you alone,” he murmurs.

“I’m scared,” I admit, so quietly it almost dies in the silence. “We’re going to die here, aren’t we?”

“I don’t know. I hope Charlie finds us. I hope someone does…” His voice falters. “But if this is it… if we don’t get out…”

“Maybe it’s the most messed up thing to say after everything that just happened, but… I don’t want to die without feeling you again—just once more,” I whisper, my voice shaking.

Zane’s chest rises against mine—uneven, strained. He’s pale, his leg bent wrong, his body clearly failing. But his eyes... they eat me alive.

“Come here,” he rasps, voice wrecked.

I glance at his leg, the way his jaw tightens through the pain.

“Zane—”

“I don’t care,” he cuts in, desperate. “I don’t care how much it hurts. You’re scared—just come here.”

So I do. I curl beside him, his arm slipping around me, pulling me into his chest like I’m something fragile.

The silence stretches. And then, softly, I say, “I miss L.A.”

He doesn’t speak, but I feel his breathing change.

“That flat was small, but it was nice. Warm. Remember how the sun came through the windows in the morning? And how Carter always looked pissed when we made too much noise—like he was constantly hungover or something. Guess the drugs were already getting to him back then. He never really lived there, though. He just came around, time to time, to babysit me. He was always on edge, but… I think he would’ve warmed up to me in time. I could feel it.”

Zane exhales through his nose, a sound caught between agreement and regret.

“I miss when our biggest problem was that we got drunk and accidentally married.” I laugh, but it dies fast in my throat. “Back when things felt… perfect. Or maybe not perfect, just possible.”

A pause.

“Can we play pretend for one last time?” I whisper, barely able to hear myself over the pounding in my chest.

“Pretend?” Zane’s voice is low, cautious.

I nod against him. “That we’re still there. That we never left.”

He presses his lips to my temple, breathing me in like he’s afraid I’ll disappear.

“Is that where you wanted to be? L.A.?” Zane’s voice is gentle, but there's an edge of something I can’t place.

I nod, stepping closer, holding his gaze like it’s the only thing keeping me from falling apart. “I need you to pretend with me,” I say, my voice shaking, barely able to hold the tremor back. “I need to be somewhere else, anywhere but here. Somewhere where we’re not stuck in this fucked-up situation. Pretend we’re not going to die here. LA or Texas… my home isn’t a place, Zane. It’s you.”

I can feel the weight of my words, heavy with all the things I’ve never said before. My heart beats faster, and I’m not sure if it's the fear or the truth that makes it race.

Zane stays quiet for a long moment. Then his hand gently slides up my arm, his grip tightening around my shoulder as if to remind me he’s still here, still real.

“Okay.”

I climb onto his lap slowly, hesitantly, until my thighs cage his hips. He groans low—pain and hunger twisting together—and grips my waist so hard it bruises.

“Jesus,” he breathes. “I forgot how fucking perfect you feel.”

“You’re hurt,” I whisper, cupping his face.

He leans in, lips brushing mine. “I’d crawl through hell for you. Don’t make me beg.”

I don’t wait.

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