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Chapter Twenty-five
Amir
Thehousewasdeathlyquiet when Marco and I returned two hours later. One of Reno’s guys had come by, swept up the shattered lamp in the living room, and boarded up the broken panel of glass next to the front door. It’d be fixed in the morning, but for tonight, my gun was staying out and ready.
Marco went to his room, probably straight for the shower. That was where I was headed too.
Julien was in the hall outside my bedroom, hands on his hips. “Did you take care of it?”
“Yeah. It’s done.” I jerked my chin to the door. “How is she?”
“She was terrified, but she wouldn’t talk. Fell asleep a bit ago. She’s been quiet.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. This wasn’t what Zadie needed. I’d promised her this part of my life wouldn’t touch her, and in one night, it’d touched her twice.
I hit Julien’s shoulder. “Thanks for looking out for her. I appreciate it, man.”
He dipped his chin, waving me off. I slipped into my dark bedroom, letting my eyes acclimate, finding the small lump on Zadie’s side of the bed. Her hair spilled over her pillow, only her forehead visible atop the covers.
Relief coursed through me at finding her asleep. I crept into the bathroom, shutting myself in. In the unforgiving light, I examined my hands, flexing my stiff fingers with a wince. My knuckles were swollen, a couple bloody. They needed to be bandaged, but first I had to deal with the rest of me. My white undershirt was splattered with blood, same for my dark-gray basketball shorts. I dropped them on the floor and turned on the shower, letting it heat.
Hands gripping the edge of the counter, I let my head drop forward. Tonight had been so fucked.Sofucked. The only thing right about it was Zadie, and she probably wasn’t going to like me very much when she woke up in the morning.
I’d make her like me again. I’d done it once. I could do it a thousand times over. I’d make her feel safe, prove to her none of this would seep outside of my carefully insulated other life. This was an anomaly. It. Would. Not. Touch. Her.
The door behind me crept open, and Zadie’s reflection appeared in the mirror. Our eyes connected there. Hers were wide and worried. Something she saw in mine made her gasp and rush forward.
I turned my head to look at her. “You should be sleeping. Go back to bed. I’ll be there in a couple minutes.”
“What happened?”
I wasn’t ready for this. The words weren’t straight in my head. “You need to go back to bed, Zadie.”
She picked up my hand, sweeping her thumb over my battered knuckles. Then her attention dropped to my clothes on the floor, the blood spatters easily visible.
“Why was he here? How did he find you?”
There was no way out of this. I could lie, refuse to answer, shut her down, but I didn’t want to. Not with her. And as sure as the sun would rise, Zadie wouldn’t accept it.
“César, the guy from the club—he thought I kept product in the house, so he followed us to find out where I live. Convinced his cousin to help him break in to steal from me while we were sleeping. They were both high off their asses, so a shit idea sounded reasonable.”
She nodded. “Are they alive?”
My heart stopped beating. Those ugly words coming from her pretty lips drained the life out of me.Fuck. Shit. Fuck. What was I doing to this girl?
“They’re alive. I’m not a killer.”
Big blue eyes rose to meet mine. They were shiny with unshed tears. She wouldn’t let them fall, not if she didn’t want them to.
“Are they walking?”
“Zadie…”
She licked her lips. “What did you do to them? Tell me what you did.” Her thumb pressed on my injured knuckle. “You have to hit someone really hard to come back with hands looking like this, don’t you? Where did the blood on your shirt come from? What part?”
I moved fast, circling my arms around her. “You don’t want to know any of that.”
“No, no!” She pushed at me hard, but I held fast. She wasn’t getting away. “Tell me. Tell me what you did. I need to know who you are. What did you do? Who are you?”
