Nicole Edwards - Zane

What was that shadow? Was it Jake? Or one of his friends? What were they going to do? Please no!

The next thing she knew, V was back in Zane’s Jeep, but she had no idea how she got there. He carried her if she had to guess because even then she couldn’t feel her legs.

“Where are we going?” she asked when she finally found her voice. She was sucking in air like she’d just run a marathon.

“My house,” he responded, but said nothing more.

V watched as he rapidly shifted gears, pushing the Jeeps engine past the red line as he drove, the deep rumble eerily similar to the anger she could detect in his voice. She couldn’t imagine why he was mad at her, but having gone back to her house, she couldn’t necessarily blame him. Every time she went home, she felt the overwhelming panic ignite like a flame in her belly, tightening her chest and making her bones ache from the chill.

By the time they reached Zane’s house, V was feeling remotely better. The trembling had subsided, but now she just felt tired. And cold.

“Come on,” he said when he opened her door for her, grabbing her purse from the floorboard and gripping her elbow gently.

“I shouldn’t be here, Zane,” she said halfheartedly as he all but dragged her up the steps to his porch. “I need to go home.”

“The fuck you do,” he growled and pushed open his front door, waiting for her to precede him into the house.

By the time V was sitting on Zane’s couch, a bottle of water in her hand and a big, growling man sitting beside her, she was beginning to feel normal, not to mention, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry,” she said when the silence began closing in on her.

“For what?”

Zane clearly wanted her to explain what had just happened, and she knew she should tell him. Tell someone. Only she didn’t want to explain it. He shouldn’t have to worry about her or her apparent mental issues. He had enough to worry about. Like his new job at the resort.

“Are you really going to manage one of the clubs at AI?” Her voice still sounded a little distant. It was clear she was trying to change the subject.

“Not talking about that right now. I want to know what the hell just happened to you, V,” he argued.

Damn it. She did not want to talk about this. She had issues, and she had no idea what they were, but seriously, it wasn’t any of his business.

“I need to go,” she said, standing to her feet abruptly.

“Sit down, V,” Zane ordered, not moving from where he was sitting.

V plopped back down on the couch, resting her butt on the edge of the cushion, still holding the damn water bottle that she didn’t want.

♂♀

“How long have you been having panic attacks?” Zane questioned as he moved to sit closer to V. He almost couldn’t believe what he witnessed just a short while ago at V’s house. With everything that had happened, it appeared no one thought to check on V during the last few months. Did Zoey know about these anxiety attacks? Was anyone worried about how she was holding up? Or did V manage to keep everyone in the dark all this time?

Sitting close to her, his thigh against her thigh, his arm against her arm, he stared down at the floor, his hands clasped in front of him between his spread knees.

“I’m scared to go in my own house,” V whispered.

For a moment, Zane wasn’t sure that he hadn’t just imagined the words. He waited patiently to see if she would continue. When she didn’t, he prodded her to tell him more.

“Is it because of what happened?” he asked, hanging his head low, knowing the answer was yes, but wanting to hear it from her.

“I keep seeing you lying on the ground, beaten and bloody,” V’s voice was soft and she swallowed hard before continuing, “and I hate that it’s my fault –”

“Stop!” Zane barked, pushing to his feet instantly. “It wasn’t your fault, Vanessa. You couldn’t have stopped Jake from doing what he did.”

“You’re wrong,” she said, her tone still sad. “If it weren’t for me and the fact that the town thinks of me the same as they do my mother...” V didn’t finish her sentence, but Zane didn’t need her to.

“Do they, V?” he questioned angrily. “Do they really think you’re like your mother? Or is that something you’ve conjured up in your head?” Zane had heard some of the rumors, but he never paid them any mind. The rumors were nothing more than a bunch of hot air, spoken by people who didn’t have anything better to do with their time.

“They call her a whore, Zane.” Vanessa’s tone firmed as she stared up at him.

“I know what they call her, but that doesn’t make the rumors true. Do you believe them?”

V stared down at her hands, but she didn’t respond. Zane had a hard time thinking anyone could think so lowly of their mother. The rumors had spanned two decades now, with Regina Carmichael painted as a woman looking to bed a billionaire. With several sharing their stories of bedding V’s mom, never intending to have a relationship with her, but wanting to see just how far she’d go. True or not, V’s mother had issues, but that didn’t make her a terrible person.

“No, I don’t. I think she has problems. I think she loved the wrong men, but no, I don’t think she’s a whore. She’s made some mistakes, but she’s my mother, Zane.”

Zane sat back down beside her, taking one of her hands in both of his and holding it firmly. “We can’t change how people want to view things, V. And we can’t change how they’ll react. I know you hated what I did that day, but, there won’t be a single person who is allowed to talk about you like that when I’m around. You didn’t cause Jake to go off the deep end. I did. And honestly, I’d do the same thing all over again.”

“How can you say that?” It was V’s turn to jump up from her seat. She paced the floor in front of him, her long hair flowing down her back, the same color as creamy milk chocolate.

“I care about you, V. I won’t sit back and let anyone talk to you that way.”

“You don’t know what the hell you’re saying. You don’t care about me. It’s sex.”

“What’s ‘sex’?” Standing to his feet again, wanting to be on a level playing field with her, Zane watched her intently.

She was purposely trying to piss him off, and if it worked to erase that look of utter helplessness he’d seen on her face earlier, he’d oblige her. “I don’t see any sex going on here at the moment, do you?”

V pinned him with a glare, and he could detect her exasperation. Vanessa Carmichael was never going to accept the fact that he felt more for her than she wanted him to. It couldn’t be changed, and he wasn’t looking to change it. But, Zane also knew when to keep his mouth shut.

“I want you to stay here for a little while. A few days. A week,” he told her.

“I can’t do that,” V argued.

Damn woman.

“You can and you will.” Zane turned away from her, wanting the conversation to be over. V would argue with him until they were both blue in the face, he knew that much.

“Zane, you know I can’t do that. I’ll never get over it if I don’t face up to it,” she said, sounding tired.

“You’re not worried about getting over it, V. You’re worried about getting too close to me.” Zane knew V had issues staying the night with him, or him with her. She’d made that plain and clear since day one. Well, he was tired of playing this her way. He wanted her to stay, and it was clear she needed someone to lean on. He wanted to be that someone.

The look in her eyes told him everything he needed to know. She wasn’t worried about herself or even him. V was worried what others would think. To hell with others. She needed to learn to live her life for herself and stop worrying so damn much about what other people thought.

“You’re staying here tonight.” Zane wasn’t making a request, and she could argue all she wanted.

To his absolute amazement, V flopped back down on the couch and stared blankly at the flat screen television mounted on his wall. She didn’t argue, and she didn’t look at him either. He was just happy she had stopped shaking as well.

An hour later, Zane finally coaxed V into eating something, but since he’d yet to go to the grocery store, they’d had to settle for pizza. He’d always been the type to limit his carbs, aiming for protein and clean foods, but tonight was an exception. With his anger still bubbling, he had figured this was the least of his worries at the moment. Maybe he’d get down to the grocery store tomorrow.

When V pushed her plate away after her second piece, Zane was satisfied with how much she ate. He stared back at her, but she still attempted to avoid his eyes as much as possible.

“What’s Jake texting you?”

“What?”

It royally pissed him off when V pretended she didn’t know what he was talking about.

“Don’t do that shit, V. I know he’s texting and calling you and I want to know what he’s saying.”

She didn’t seem to be in a hurry to answer him, but from where he sat, she appeared to be lost in thought.

“When did it start?” He decided to try easier questions.

V glanced over at him, then back to the table.

“Right after you woke up in the hospital. About three weeks after they jumped you.”

“Is Jake the only one texting you?” Zane didn’t have a clue who the others were, but he wouldn’t put it past Jake to get them to target V as well.

V shook her head. “No. Well, not anymore. For a few days, I was getting texts from unfamiliar numbers, but they stopped.”

“Is Jake still harassing you?”

This time V nodded.

“What does he say?”

For a second, he thought she was going to ignore the question like she had previously, but once again, V threw him for a loop. She handed over her cell phone, and Zane pulled up her texts to find... Holy fucking shit! There were seventeen unread text messages, and as he scrolled through them, he saw they were from the last two hours.

Whore just like your mama

Once a slut always a slut

A Walker man’s bitch now, huh?

Don’t worry, I know where you live

And I know where he lives too

Those were just a few of the nicer ones.

Zane saw red.

Without thinking, he hit the dial button to call the number that the texts had come from.

The phone rang once, twice...

“Ahhh, baby, I knew you’d come running to me sooner or later,” Jake’s slimy voice answered on the other end.

Zane sucked in air, trying to rein in the boiling rage that threatened to burst out of his veins. Gritting his teeth, he turned away from V. “If you know what’s fucking good for you, you no good son of a bitch, you’ll stay far, far away from her, Sanders.”

“Zane Walker. I heard you were still alive.” There was an insane chuckle following the words, but Zane noticed that Jake didn’t sound nearly as confident as he probably hoped. If Zane had to guess, he was the last person Jake expected to be calling.

“Alive and waiting for you to show your face. Next time, your buddies won’t be there to protect you from me,” Zane seethed.

“No, fucker. Next time, I’ll just kill you.” The phone went dead, and Zane stood stone still for a minute, trying to breathe, trying to contain the anger that threatened to pull him under.

When V’s hand touched his shoulder, he flinched. He had to remind himself where he was and who he was with.

“He’s not worth it, Zane,” V whispered. “Eventually he’ll get bored with this little game.”

Zane’s fury slipped free as he turned on V, yelling his point until she took a step back. “Game? You think this is a fucking game? He’s fucking with you, V. Do you remember what he did to me? He’s not playing a game. The man’s a lunatic!”

Zane walked away, needing a moment to get his bearings. He was infuriated and ready to punch something, only he refused to do so with V around. There was no way he wanted her to see the anger that sparked inside of him.

Zane knew Jake’s mental health was tenuous at best, and he wouldn’t put it past the crazy bastard to do something drastic. Again. He wouldn’t let the son of a bitch get the best of him again, that was for damn sure. Bracing his hands on the edge of the kitchen counter, Zane stared out the small window above the sink, into the darkness.

When V’s hand slid down his back, he allowed her gentle touch to soothe him. He focused on the warmth of her hand as it traveled from his waist up to his shoulder blades and then back down again. A frisson of heat shuddered through him. He wanted to feel her against him. Skin to skin. She was the only person capable of distracting him from this anger that he knew was coming to a head.