Page 96 of King of Malice
But I do tell him about my mom, and how she was an addict. We’re out walking the property, staying in the shade of the trees.
I only share a few of the memories of sleeping in crack houses. “How old were you?”
I shake my head. “Young.”
“Drugs are a hard habit to kick and it can span generations,” he says, giving me a sidelong glance. Is he asking about my own proclivities?
“I tried drinking and drugs in my teens and early twenties. But I’m done withthat.” I turn toward him, meeting his eye. “I’ve got enough problems without adding addiction.”
“You don’t drink at all?”
I shake my head. “Is that weird for you?”
“No,” he answers. “I don’t really drink either. Medical school was too strenuous, and field work was too dangerous for that kind of indulgence.”
I lace my fingers through his. Because it’s the first time I’ve thought that I might suit him. Sobriety is something we share, something I bring when other women might not.
It makes me warm inside and I bump my shoulder against his in a playful move as I bite my lip.
He responds by scooping me up and spinning me around.
I can’t believe I told him about my horrendous childhood and now he’s spinning me around instead of tossing me out.
I’ve always thought my past made me inferior. I know it’s not my fault, but that doesn’t mean it makes me less desirable.
I didn’t grow up being taught to match curtains with sofas. Then again, Zane says that he’s not interested in that woman.
My entire life has taught me that his feelings won’t last. But for the first time in a very long time, I’m buoyed by hope. It scares the crap out of me.
Every person I’ve trusted has quit on me. Except for Ava…
Are there really two people in this world who can care about me even though I’m the prickliest pear ever?
If I’m honest, I’ve done my damnedest to push Ava away. In fact, my eyes flutter closed as I delve deeper. I’ve been examining thoughts this week I’ve shied away from for years.
I’d assumed all this time something was wrong with her that she still loved me.
That it’s her wound that keeps her by my side, and not my worth.
“What’s wrong?” Zane rumbles.
“Nothing. Just thinking about Ava.”
“Ava,” he growls back.
I furrow my brow, trying to understand what he means. “Every time I talk about Ava you seem angry.”
“I know you say she’s your friend but?—”
“But what?” I ask as he gently sets me on my feet.
“But she seems connected to every one of your most traumatic experiences.”
“Yeah. Cause she was there. For all intents and purposes, she’s my sister. We lived that shit together.”
His brow furrows. “But you’ve had to hurt yourself to save her.”
“What does that mean?”
