He shakes his head in what I can only guess is disgust and walks past me to the elevator. I quickly slip my card into the door. As soon as I’m in, I shut it then lean against it with a heaving sob.
“Why are you in River City?” I jump at the deep voice that travels from the darkness of my room.How the fuck did he get in here? How the fuck does he even know I’m here?
“What are you doing here?” I hiss.
“I asked you first.” He flicks on the lights so I can see his slimy ass sitting up in the bed that I was supposed to sleep in. Now I’ll have to sleep on the floor.
“What I am doing here is none of your goddamned business.” I quickly wipe the tears that are staining my cheeks. I straighten my spine and lift my chin. This bastard will not see me cower.
“Actually, darlin’, it is my business what my investment does if it means her head won’t be in the game.” He moves from the bed and begins to stalk toward me.
My heart thumps against my chest. I wouldn’t normally be afraid, but this man has much more than my physical harm he can threaten me with. “Investment?” I scoff because an investment implies I get something out of this arrangement. Call a fucking spade a spade. “This is blackmail, and you should have thought of that before you brought me to a party then made sure my boyfriend saw us.”
He gives a low, dark chuckle as he moves even closer to me. “You have no idea how much fun it is to screw with Valen or any of those fucks.”
I have no idea what his deal is with Zane or anyone. I don’t ask. Fuck, I’m not even breathing at this second as he invades my personal space. Every muscle in my body is tense.
“Why don’t I help you forget Valen?” he murmurs with hot, sticky breath against my ear. Revulsion and bile build in the pit of my stomach.
“Not on your fucking life,” I spit in his face.
I should see it coming. I should be expecting it but for some reason I’m caught completely off guard when the back of his hand connects with my jaw. I wheeze for air when his hand wraps around my throat. “Fucking bitch.”
He slams his disgusting mouth against mine. For just a second, I relent – give into the kiss. Just enough that his grip loosens.
I bite his lip hard. My knee finds his balls with all the force I’ve been taught to use in the ring. When he doubles over, that same knee finds his face. Then I kick him to the floor and run out of the room.
I race down the hallway, but I can hear him stumbling behind me. I press the elevator button over and over like it will speed its upward ascent. When it opens, I jump inside then press the close door button in the same manner.
It does just before he reaches it.
And for some reason, the weight of everything comes crashing down on me. How fucked up this situation really is. Howdangerousit is.
When the elevator doors open, I jump into the first taxi available knowing exactly where to go.
I just hope I'm not too late.
Zane
I walk into my apartment, throwing my keys on the table by the door. I stalk my way to the mini bar beside the balcony entrance and pour a highball glass full of Jack. I take the glass and stand on the balcony watching the river below. Something that can be peaceful or torrential at any time feels like it is speaking to me right now. Like it understands these feelings and emotions running through me.
I fucking love Tori, but I don’t know what to do with it. I know ignoring her the last few weeks was probably a bad decision. I also know that nothing would have been resolved if I had answered. She would have lied or avoided my questions. She wouldn’t have opened up to me anymore than she did tonight.
“FUCK!” I yell out into the air not giving a single shit if it disturbs the neighbors. My neighbors can go fuck themselves.
Leave it to me to fall for the most difficult woman on the goddamn planet. She makes loving her fucking hard. Even though loving her is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.
The water on the river is rough tonight. A storm’s coming in. I can see the thunderheads in the distance as lightning flashes. It’s fitting considering how the rest of my day has gone. Shit game. Shit time at the club. Shit conversation with my girlfriend – if I can even really call her that. Just fucking shit.
My intercom buzzes bringing me out of my pity party for a moment. I walk to it. “Yeah,” I growl.
“Zane,” the only voice that makes everything in me both light on fire and turn to ice simultaneously as my emotions war between love and anger.
I lean my forehead against the wall as I continue to hold the button down.
“Zane, I’m sorry,” she says softly with a hiccup. My eyes squeeze shut at the sound, knowing that she’s crying.
But I’m not going to speak this time. I’m not going to fight or beg her to talk to me. If she’s going to talk, then she has to be the one to start the conversation.
