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“Where do you sleep?” I asked softly. “When you’re not at that house?”
He shrugged. “I stay up. There are plenty of all-night coffee shops.”
My heart sunk lower as I pictured Zakai alone in a bright shop in the middle of the night. “And yet you described that group home as if it was a nice place to live,” I said. “You told me there was only one person giving you trouble. Why? Why hide things from me again? To protect me?”
His eyes shifted back to mine. “I told you, Karys. I can’t protect you here. Not anymore. And you don’t need me to. The world is yours, every last bit of it.”
Confusion overcame me. I didn’t know this version of Zakai, this supposed other half of me, and a piece of my heart withered. I reached across the table, taking his hand in mine, craving some form of connection, outlining his familiar fingers. “There has to be another place,” I said softly. “We can . . . we can call Cody Rutland and tell him about that house. Surely he’ll help you find another one.”
“They’re all like that,” he said.
“You don’t know that—”
“I do, Karys. All the men there, they’ve cycled through them all. I’ve heard the stories. One is worse than the last.”
My shoulders drooped. “But . . . there must be one that’s tolerable. We have to try, Zakai!”
“We don’t have to do anything,” he said.
I looked away, hurt. It had always been us against the world. Always. Or was I mistaken about that? “It’s only temporary,” I said quietly. “A roof over your head until we have the means to be more independent. Until we can be together again. It’s just a small sacrifice.”
“I’m done making sacrifices, Karys,” he gritted. “Giselle’s offered me to live with her.”
I blinked. “Live with . . . Giselle?” My blood cooled. “Why would she do that?” I asked.
He shook his head, his hair flopping. “She wants to help. And . . . she wants me to work for her agency.”
“I don’t want you to live with her!” I said. “I don’t trust her.”
Zakai released a breath, his eyes moving over my face, the jealousy and suspicion certainly clear in my expression. “I didn’t say I want to live with her either. I’m just saying I’m not going to live in that house. No.” He pulled his hand away.
My gut clenched and the jealousy I’d felt flared to indignation. “I don’t love my uncle’s house either. I miss you. I want to be somewhere else too. With you. But I’m not squandering this opportunity,” I said, using the same words Braxton had said to me, filled with frustration at the thought of this Giselle person and also at his stubbornness. Zakai’s muscles tightened and I sensed the hurt in the way he held his shoulders so rigid, his gaze going dull. Regret immediately overcame me. “We’re in this together. Just like we’ve always been.”
“No,” he said quietly. “Things are different now.”
“Some things are, yes. But not everything has to be.” I chewed at my lip for a moment. “Come stay with me. Please.”
Zakai huffed out a breath. “Your uncle doesn’t even want me visiting there.”
“Well,” I said slowly, considering. “We’ll tell him we’ll abide by any rules he sets. Even attending classes every day.”
Zakai looked over at me then, his eyes softening. Did he miss me the way I missed him? Did his body and soul ache from being separated from me? What did he do when he was angry? Frustrated? Needing to vent his pain . . . or show his love? “Please,” I said, before he could get a word in. “For me.”
He sighed, quietly drumming his fingers on the table, staring down forlornly. “You know I’d do anything for you, right, Karys?” he asked, his gaze meeting mine, suddenly intense if not still a little sad.
I hesitated at the strange tone in his voice but nodded, a smile tilting my lips. “Yes, Zakai.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I squeezed Zakai’s hand as I opened the door to Braxton’s apartment, pulling him inside. “Braxton?” I called.
“In here,” I heard Claire call back from the living room.
I gave Zakai a look meant to be encouraging and he gave me a small, tight smile in return.
I smiled brightly when we’d made it to where Claire and Braxton were sitting on the couch, a fire glowing in the fireplace in the corner, the TV on low. Braxton’s face hardened when he saw Zakai. He stood. “I thought I made it clear—”
“Please, Uncle Braxton,” I said, letting go of Zakai’s hand and stepping closer. “I know what you said, and I understand there are rules to be followed.” I bit at my lip, glancing back at Zakai, who stood with his hands in his pockets, his expression blank. I took a deep breath. “But the house where Zakai is living is not a good place. It’s dirty and uncomfortable, and the people there aren’t nice.”
