Zane (Alluring Indulgence) (12 page)

“V?”
Zane’s voice was no longer soothing. He was visibly worried, and she couldn’t blame
him.

Here
she was falling apart, and he had no idea why, but she couldn’t bring herself
to tell him. Hell, she didn’t know why, other than the fact that she hated
coming back here. Hated remembering that day when Jake Sanders brutally
attacked Zane right outside her front door. Watching as Zane fell to the
ground, doing his best to hold his own against his attackers while she lay
bruised and bloodied on the ground after one of Jake’s friends pushed her away.
She couldn’t save him. Couldn’t stop them. Helpless and cold. So cold.

“Dammit,
V! Talk to me,” Zane’s deep, booming voice penetrated her thoughts, and when he
pulled her against him, V didn’t try to fight. She let him wrap his strong arms
around her, holding her as she tried to soak up some of his warmth.

“That’s
it!” Zane exclaimed, grabbing her purse from the floor at her feet while still
holding her close and once again moving out onto the front porch. V’s panic
intensified as she stood there with him, her eyes roaming the area surrounding
her house as she waited for the horror to rain down on them once again.

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.