“Zane didn’t know it at the time, but Lacy was dying. Stage four leukemia. It was her third battle with it since she was seven.”
I suck in a breath as tears burn my eyes. I don’t want to hear this from Sebastian. I don’t think I would want to hear it from Zane.
“Six months after they met, she died. Today is the fourth anniversary of her death.”
The tears begin to fall. I quickly try to wipe them away, but they keep coming.
“I’m not going to say Zane hasn’t gotten around. That guy gets more ass than a toilet seat. It’s just fun for him where the rest of us were just trying to either numb something or feel something. But Zane isn’t jaded. He just knew when he found the right girl, he’d know in an instant.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I say with a hiccup.
He laughs with a shake of his head. “I have a point I’m trying to make. Never been big on talking but I owe the guy. He’s my brother for all intents and purposes and he’s been fucking miserable the last few weeks. I know what happened in Chicago. I have a feeling you’re in over your head with something. And I think you aren’t telling him because you think you’re protecting him. But Zane can’t handle secrets and lies. He – we are a part of something that doesn’t allow for missteps. Trust is hard to come by and it’s easy to break. You aren’t protecting Zane. You’re hurting him and yourself. Whatever you’ve gotten yourself into, you need to tell him.”
“Thought you said Zane was the one who read people’s souls,” I chuckle sarcastically.
“He does. But I can read people too. Not always the emotion, but I see things. I can see you’re torn up over something and that something isn’t just Zane. You’re jumpy and when you move, it’s stiff and with a bit of a wince from time to time. I’ve also notice you are working hard to keep your breathing shallow. If I had to wager a guess, I’d say you’ve got a couple of broken ribs. Am I right?”
I open my mouth to argue. To tell him he’s wrong. That he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. But he gives me a look that makes ice and fire travel through my veins. I know it won’t do any good to deny anything. So, I just shut my mouth and don’t say a word.
“Talk to him, Tori. He can do more about it than you probably think.”
“Don’t you think that’s a little hypocritical?” I finally blurt out.
He raises an eyebrow at me in surprise and amusement. “How so?”
“Zane hasn’t told me everything either. He didn’t tell me about Lacy. I know there are other things he doesn’t tell me too.”
“Have you asked him?”
I drop my head. “No,” I answer. I’ve never been concerned, but I also knew, without a doubt, had I asked, he would’ve told me. He’s not hiding things. He’s just waiting on me to ask for answers.
He doesn’t say anything in response to that. I know he can already tell he doesn’t have to. “And I meant what I said about working in my shop. You’re good, Tori. I could really use you there if you ever decide to leave New York. You can check it out when you come by this evening.”
I give a weak smile and nod as the entire conversation and the last half hour leave me reeling.
Getting a tattooover broken ribs is both smart and stupid. Smart because you can’t breathe deeply anyway so it works in the artist favor. Stupid because that fucking shit hurts like a bitch.
I was glad Verity came to watch. She’s a really nice girl. I have a feeling she’s been through a lot, but she seems resilient. And Sebastian – Bastian – seems protective as hell.
I meet up with Zoey and Layla at Night Sky around ten. Zoey looks a little hilarious and ridiculous there with her very pregnant belly. She laughs at herself when she looks around.
“I wanted us to go to Red,” Layla tells me, “but Rory has the damn place guarded like fucking Fort Knox.”
“What’s Red?” I ask as I sip on my wine.
“Another club owned by Rory and Bastian,” she answers with a strange smirk on her face.
I wait a few moments for her to explain. She just keeps grinning, so I ask, “and it’s off limits because?”
“Because it’s also a strip club and Layla used to work there. Rory is the jealous, possessive type and doesn’t want Layla there.” Zoey explains it all without batting an eye.
Me on the other hand? My jaw is hanging on the floor. “You were a stripper?”
She laughs with a wave. “No. I worked on the bar side as a waitress, but men are handsy you know? Verity got on stage once though. A few weeks ago, in fact.”
This time, I nearly spit my drink out. “Verity? Stripped?”
“Not really,” Zoey admits. “But she did get on stage and dance. It was sexy as hell.”
