Page 9 of Dark Memories
Chapter Four
Harry walked into Zach’s house still steaming at being strong-armed. She didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to be anywhere near him. It made it damn hard to keep her Zach Box locked down.Unless you want me tohadn’t stopped bouncing around in her head since he’d said the words. No, she didn’t want him invading her space. Not even.
Liar, a traitorous voice in her mind said, laughing at her.
He strode past her, carrying her bags. “Come on. I’ll show you the guest room and then give you a tour.”
It was impossible not to be impressed as she followed him up the stairs. The living room would hold three of her one-bedroom apartment. Black and white marble framed a fireplace that reached the tall ceiling. Even though the furnishings were contemporary, they looked comfortable. She could imagine curling up on the dove-gray leather sofa that looked marshmallow soft with a cup of coffee and one of her true-crime books. Red and yellow patterned throw pillows added splashes of color, as did the artwork on the walls that were probably originals.
Zach had grown up with a mother who flitted from man to man, each one worse than the last. His father had left without a backward glance after catching her cheating on him. Money had been scarce, love and nurturing nonexistent. His childhood had left him hungry and driven and he’d made it, was a success beyond even his wildest dreams. Harry wondered if he was happy with his life.
“I think you should be comfortable in here.”
You think?Jeez, she might move in and never leave. “It’ll do.”
That was the best she’d give him. She hadn’t missed his carefully blanked expression when he’d walked into her apartment and looked around. It was probably good that she hadn’t seen his home before taking him to hers or she would have made herself mad by blurting out all kinds of excuses as to why her place was as spartan as she could get. No pictures on the wall, no annoying throw pillows you had to push out of the way just to sit, and no dumb knickknacks scattered around that would always look like they needed a good dusting.
Her sofa, her only good piece of furniture, had been a gift from Gabe when he’d somehow talked her into letting Cara stay at her place while they hunted for her stalker. And he’d only offered it as a bribe so Cara would have something to sleep on. As far as Harry was concerned,thingswere bothersome. A cat figurine or fat Buddha sitting on the table, staring at you, was just creepy. Never mind the fact that she had no decorating sense to begin with and those were the kind of junk she’d end up with if she tried.
The guest room where she’d be staying was beautifully decorated in dark greens and deep purples, two colors she never would have thought to put together. The bed looked like a king, and one she might never want to get out of. A sleek gas fireplace was built into one wall.
“This is nice.” She wasn’t sure why she was being stubborn about telling him how much she loved this room. Maybe because he’d built this life without her.
“Would you like to freshen up before I show you around?”
“If you’re asking if I have to pee, Zach, just say it.”
He sputtered a laugh. “That’s what I always lov—liked about you. You’re one of the few people I know who actually speaks their mind. It’s refreshing.” One brow lifted. “So, Delaney, do you have to pee?”
Stupid heart, bouncing like a ball when he’d almost said the wordlove. She’d never doubted he loved her back then, not even when he told her he was marrying someone else. The Zach Box creaked, trying to open.Not going there. Not going there. Not going there. She slammed hands down on it, then piled five dump truck loads of rocks over it. That should keep it closed. She hoped.
“I’m good.” Not really. “Let’s take your tour.”
He held her gaze for a moment, and she wondered if there was anything in her eyes that gave away the turmoil that felt like a hurricane invading her mind. Was he remembering, feeling any of the confusion that she was? If so, he was keeping it well hidden.
“This way.” He stepped into the hallway. “My office,” he said, opening the first door they came to. “As you can see, it’s close to your room, giving you easy access. My computer is top-of-the-line and is yours to use as needed.” He grabbed a pen and wrote something on a notepad. “That’s my password.”
“You’re trusting me with that?”
He caught her gaze again and held it. “My daughter’s life is at stake. She’s more important than anything you could do to harm me. Besides, I trust you.”
That shouldn’t please her so much. “Okay, thanks. Nice office by the way.” The massive dark wood desk, plush desk chair, and three monitors weren’t a surprise. The row of bookcases and the round conference table, both made of the same rich wood as the desk, and the two upholstered chairs with matching ottomans sitting in front of a fireplace built into the wall were a surprise.
“I spend a lot of time in here and sometimes have meetings, so I wanted it to be comfortable.”
When they’d been together, his office had been a room at a strip mall during the day, and the kitchen table at night. Most evenings they’d eat in the living room, their plates on the coffee table, because it was easier than moving all his stuff. She’d been comfortable with that Zach. This Zach lived in a way she’d never understand. Now there was a chasm between them that could never be breached. That shouldn’t make her sad. Their time had come and gone.
“This is an alarm panel,” he said, putting his hand on the black box mounted to the wall. “There’s one here, at each door to the outside, one in my bedroom, and one in Kali’s. She knows what the panic button is for.”
“You didn’t go to the box when we came in. Do you not set it when you are away?”
“Always. I have a remote for it and turned it off when we were still in the garage. If you need to turn it on or off while you’re here, the code is 6-1-0-2-7.”
From the way he was watching her, it seemed as if he expected a reaction, and she tried to see meaning in the numbers, but nothing came to her.
Disappointment flashed in his eyes. “Saturday is the sixth day of the week, October is the tenth month, and—”
“Oh,” she whispered. “And two seven is the twenty-seventh day of the month.” The day and month they’d met. Her gaze shot to his, and he smiled, but it was a sad smile. It had been a long time since she’d cried over Zach, but she was damn close to doing it now.
