Page 82 of Heart Thief

Memories wander through my mind. Zane’s hands running through my hair as he gently brushed my long locks. Riding a cable car with Zane while hanging off the sideboards. Walking through Chinatown hand in hand. Dancing with Zane while cooking chili. Watching Jeopardy. Shopping for colorful trinkets for Ryker’s penthouse. Riding pedal boats at Stow Lake. Jumping on Ryker’s bed and sharing our first kiss. Sharing that crazy kiss when he responded to the bomb-threat at the Golden Gate Bridge. Eating Lucky Charms for breakfast. Kissing wildly in a dark storefront while dressed to the nines in our symphony attire.

I want that life back. I want Zane.

I want his laugh, I want his kiss, I want his smile. I want his bare abs and chest to stare at me as he walks around in jeans and jeans alone.

Am I wrong to want him? Is there a valid explanation he can offer me? Is he a thief? A stalker?

Do I believe Ryker or Zane? The thing is, Zane hasn’t given me a story to believe or not to believe.

Just radio silence.

The accident took everything that’d happened beforehand and placed it on the back burner.

Now I’m back to that horrible moment. That moment when Zane looked me in the eyes and said, “I can’t,” meaning he couldn’t explain. He had nothing to offer me.

What am I doing here? I’m here for Zane and if I don’t have him, there’s no reason for me to be here.

When the service is over, I remain seated as Zane stands next to his father’s coffin. He stands there a long time, saying his final goodbyes. I watch his lips move silently as he speaks to his father. I watch as he reaches out and pats the coffin a few times.

Then he turns to leave.

Without acknowledging me.

I follow him to his Jeep. “Zane, wait.”

He does everything he did when he arrived, only in reverse. He removes his suit jacket, takes off his tie, and unbuttons the top few buttons of his dress shirt.

His face could be made of stone. I’ve never seen him like this. Of course, I’ve never seen him devastated by loss, either. He shared a strong bond with his father, his only real family. I can’t imagine how he must be feeling.

His eyes look down at my heavily-casted hand. “How’s your hand?”

With everything that’s going on, that’s his first question. He’s concerned about me.

In that moment, I’m sure I’m not wrong about him.

“It’s healing. Thank you.”

“Good. I’ve been overseas on assignment. No cell service. Sorry I couldn’t call. I’ve been worried about you.”

“I’m glad you made it home in time to be here.”

He nods. “Me too.” He scrubs his face with one hand. “All night flight. I’ve hardly slept in two days. Barely made it here in time.”

“You must be exhausted.”

“Yep.” He looks down for a moment. “So... you’re here with Ryker?”

Doesn’t he know me well enough to know I would never go back to Ryker? “No. Just being polite after his father died. Temporary truce.”

I swear, he could be a statue. Or turn me to ice with his glare. “My father just died too, Mila.”

Slip of the tongue, I want to scream.That’s not what I meant.But there’s no time to speak.

He turns abruptly, gets in his Jeep, and drives away, his tires screeching.

Stunned, I stand there in his dust, wondering what just happened. I threw out an olive branch and he rejected it.

He’s upset, he’s consumed with grief, he’s exhausted. This isn’t normal behavior for Zane. In my heart, I know this.

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