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“All of them?” he answered.

“Was that a question or a statement?” I laughed with no real amusement.

“Both.”

“Of course you did.” Opening my eyes, I looked at the man who was offering me everything I wanted on a silver platter. I just had to be brave enough to accept it. “Take me home please.”

The sun was bright in the sky, nothing like that night six weeks ago. Still, the instant Emil, Zak’s driver, pulled into the parking lot of my apartment building, I broke out in a cold sweat. My heart hammered behind my rib cage, each beat a reminder of the brutality I survived.

Survived.

You survived, Pru.

Get your shit together.

But my mind muted my inner voice when I saw the exact spot where I was taken, letting fear and panic battle for dominance. My hands shook. My breath stalled. Tears fell from my eyes and rolled off my chin before I even realized I was crying.

Suddenly, I was airborne, lifted off the seat of Zak’s luxury SUV and deposited on his lap. I didn’t have time to be embarrassed before he cupped my cheeks with both hands. His mouth was moving, but the words were a jumbled mess too quiet compared to the ringing in my ears.

Then his lips were on mine, soft at first, tentative. I gasped, giving him a literal opening to deepen the kiss, one he didn’t hesitate to take. Any thoughts besides him dissolved into desire when his tongue slid into my mouth. He tasted like coffee, mint, and bad decisions, yet I couldn’t stop the moan from escaping my throat. My fingers twisted through the dark strands of hair at the nape of his neck, fisting them at the root. He answered with a groan of his own.

A throat clearing from the front of the SUV reminded us we weren’t alone. Zak broke the kiss, but he didn’t make a move to put me back in my seat. Instead, his muscled arms wrapped around my waist, holding me tight.

“If the memories are too much, you don’t have to stay here, Pru.”

“It’s my home. I have to try. Besides, where else would I go?”

He paused before answering, lifting my chin with two fingers to meet his eyes. “You have options.”

I was about to ask what he meant when someone banged on the tinted windows. Without looking, I knew who it was. My sister wasn’t known for her patience. What little she possessed had apparently ran out.

“Is he holding you hostage in there, Pru? Knock once for yes, twice for no.”

Zak’s chest shook with silent laughter. “Your sister is a pain in the ass, baby.”

Baby.

It was the second time he’d used the endearment for me. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, but I didn’t hate it. Not even a little bit.

“She means well.”

“Hmm,” he grunted.

Like he’d done it a thousand times before, Zak opened the door and stepped out of the vehicle with me in his arms, bridal style. Emil was waiting with my wheelchair. I could’ve used crutches––which I’d only recently learned how to maneuver with for short distances––however, it was a long walk from the parking lot to the elevator.

“Not a hostage.” She pursed her lips. “Good to know.”

Daria snagged one of my suitcases. Emil gathered the rest. As our small group of four made the trek across the lot, I spotted my car parked in the exact spot I’d left it. An icy chill slithered up my spine. I should just sell it. It wasn’t as if I’d be using it anytime soon. Hell, I couldn’t walk, let alone drive. There wasn’t an inch of my life the amputation hadn’t touched. Simple tasks, like cooking or doing the laundry, would take effort and planning to accomplish. My “new normal” the therapists all talked about fucking sucked, and I hadn’t even gotten to the hard part. That would come over the next few weeks when I learned how to walk again.

Another thought hit me out of nowhere. I looked over my shoulder at Zak and asked, “Do I still have a job?”

Though his steps faltered briefly, he didn’t stop pushing my wheelchair. When he spoke, his tone carried a gentleness that was worlds apart from the authoritative one he used at work. I’d first noticed the difference at the hospital.

“Don’t be ridiculous. No one could ever replace you.”

“Whose been doing it while I’ve been recovering?”

“No one replaced you,” he emphasized each word. There was the domineering Zakhar I was accustomed to. “My calendar is a fucking disaster. If it hadn’t been for Dimi, I would’ve missed a meeting with the mayor.”