Zane (Alluring Indulgence) (2 page)

Right.
As if she could even sit down.

She
knew they were close, but they weren’t getting there fast enough. They’d left
the ground breaking ceremony after her initial text.

The
ground breaking ceremony.

Where
she and Zane were supposed to be.

Oh
God!

Her
head was pounding with what the EMT’s told her was probably a concussion, but
her heart was racing ninety miles a minute from not knowing what was happening
to Zane. She didn’t care about herself. She needed to know how Zane was.

How
bad was he? What were they doing to him? Was he going to be all right? Those
were only a few of the questions running at lightning speed through her brain,
the same questions that everyone who worked in that damn hospital refused to
answer for her.

The
other question – where was Zoey?

V
desperately needed a distraction before she started chewing off her
fingernails. A terrible habit she had broken years ago, but one that was
threatening to reemerge with a vengeance.

A
loud commotion at the ER entrance caught her attention, and V swung around to
see a group of people – a large group at that – pushing into the small waiting area.
Coming in with them were the chaotic murmurs of concerned family.

“Zoey,”
V whispered her friend’s name as she emerged from the group of massive males,
making a beeline straight for her. Never in her life had V been happier to see
her best friend than she was right then.

The
second she came in contact with Zoey’s much smaller body, she nearly fell to
her knees. Overwhelmed by the enormity of what this all meant, V began sobbing
like a baby.

“Honey,
I’m here.” Zoey whispered in her ear, holding her tightly against her and
running her hand through her hair. Being held had never felt so good, and V was
relieved to have someone she knew she could turn to.

The
chaos ensued around them, but V didn’t look up, nor did she stop crying as she
sent up a steady stream of silent prayers for Zane. Even when the buzz of more
Walker males speaking around them, she continued to sob, never speaking, just
quietly begging.

Please,
God, please let Zane be ok.

♂♀

Three
Months later... December

“Will
you stop hovering, goddammit?” Zane was literally two seconds away from jumping
out of the damn bed and showing his brother exactly what he thought of him
acting like a fucking mother hen. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

“Actually,
no.” Braydon grinned, and Zane wanted to punch him. Square in the mouth. “I’ve
dedicated my entire morning to seeing your pretty face.”

Just
fucking perfect.
“Fantastic.”

Just
what he needed – a fucking babysitter.

“That’s
what I was thinking,” Braydon added in that facetiously ornery tone that made
Zane’s hands clench into fists.

He
knew damned good and well why Braydon was there. For the same reason, at least
one of his six brothers visited him each day – so he didn’t just walk out of
the damn prison that was disguised as a hospital. The one he’d been sentenced
to for the last three months.

“Well,
you should find somewhere to go then before I get out of this bed and kick your
ass,” Zane told him.

“I’d
like to see you try.” The same cocky grin Zane saw, more often than not, on one
of the twins’ faces reflected back at him. Only when Braydon did it, he managed
to get under Zane’s skin like no one else.

Zane
growled in response to the dare.

Little
did his older brother know, but Zane was finally capable of doing just that.
Well, the getting out of bed part anyway.

For
the last two months, ever since he’d come out of his month long coma, Zane had
been working like a maniac, to get his body back to where it was before the
brutal attack that left him unable to walk, along with other things. Aside from
the multitude of broken bones – all of which had healed nicely during his three
month vacation in the hospital – Zane had been diagnosed as having severe
Traumatic Brain Injury. And in case the doctors didn’t know, that wasn’t
something to be shared with his six older brothers. They’d had a field day
trying to convince the doctors and nurses that he’d been born that way.

After
three and a half weeks in a coma, Zane had woken up only to find that he wasn’t
able to do some of the things he had taken for granted most of his life. Both
walking and talking had been on that list if only for a brief time. After two
months of rigorous physical therapy and finally, a much anticipated breakthrough,
Zane could do pretty much everything he had before the attack. Only it required
a little more effort on his part.

Aside
from the emotional scars, Zane had healed rather well. A couple of physical
scars that were visible with his clothes on would remind him and his family of
what he’d been through. Nothing significant. Although the small, three inch
scar beside his left eye was a glaring reminder of the payback that was due.

For
the last week, he had even been allowed to do some strength training exercises
that
weren’t
reserved for children or the elderly. And now he was
feeling as though he could take on the world. Bench pressing three hundred and
fifty pounds again might take more time than he originally expected, but he was
working on it. Not that he would let his therapist know that.

Regardless,
Zane was on the path to a full recovery and, quite frankly, he was ready to
move on with his life... right out the front doors of the hospital. It’d taken
some time to win over Dr. Canton, the frustratingly patient doc who’d been by
his side for longer than either of them had probably expected. To his relief,
the good doctor had finally told him today was the day. The day they were
finally letting him go home. So, yes, Zane knew full well that Braydon was
there to ensure he didn’t get any bright ideas about running out of the
building like a mad man.

The
thought had crossed his mind a time or two.

Along
with spending the better part of these last few months focusing on his
recovery, Zane had also been battling an overwhelming sense of violence – the
kind that would certainly get his ass thrown in jail for man slaughter. His temper
was only exacerbated by the memories of what that bastard Jake Sanders’ buddy
had done to Vanessa on the very day Jake and his friends had nearly beaten Zane
to death in a surprise attack on V’s front lawn.

Don’t
get him wrong, Zane knew better than anyone that his condition could have been much,
much worse. He was more than grateful just to be alive and to have his body and
mind in one piece was an even bigger reason to send up prayers of thanks, but
that didn’t stop the blinding fury that now pulsed right along with his
heartbeat.

If
it hadn’t been for his mother, Zane would’ve probably gone AWOL by now. The
look in Lorrie Walker’s crystal blue eyes and the tears that continued to swim
in them weakened Zane even more than the combination of tire irons and being
out of it for almost a month. So, here he was, wishing like hell he had managed
to control his temper better. At least then his brothers wouldn’t know how
pissed off he truly was. Not that hiding anything from them was easy.
Considering he’d spent the last two months getting reacquainted with his wild
and crazy brothers, Zane had also managed to fill up his TMI quota for the
year. He was pretty sure Sawyer was out to win the title of the most ludicrous
of them all. The man had mental issues.

“You
talk to V lately?” Now it was Braydon’s turn to ask questions.

“Not
today, no.” Zane hadn’t talked to V in two months actually. They’d texted back
and forth a couple of times, but even those had significantly declined in
recent weeks. He’d been lucky yesterday because she had actually responded to
two of his texts.

Ever
since the day he woke up to find V sitting by his bedside, holding his hand,
her tears dropping onto his fingers, Zane hadn’t seen her either. That day had
been the one and only time he had physically laid eyes on her while he had been
in the hospital, although his mother said V had remained by his bedside from
the minute his parents gave the hospital permission to let her see him until
the moment he woke up.

Unfortunately,
he hadn’t been able to speak for the first couple of days that he was awake,
but he found a way to communicate as soon as Sawyer offered up his cell phone.
For those two days, that was exactly how Zane communicated with everyone.
Including V. The only difference was that once he was coherent and finally able
to talk, he’d had the honor of talking to every single member of his family,
his best friend Beau, and even Zoey, Kaleb’s fiancé, on a daily basis. But he
hadn’t yet been able to say two words to V in person.

And
since he came to, she’d become even more unresponsive as each day passed, to
the point Zane had stopped texting her altogether. His attempt at interrogating
both Zoey and Beau hadn’t worked either. Neither of them shared much
information with Zane when he asked. The only thing he managed to pull out of
Zoey was that V was doing fine and that she felt responsible for what happened
to him, which she seemed to be having a hard time dealing with.

Her
being responsible was so damn far from the truth, Zane was livid when Zoey had
told him, and from what he remembered, he had told her as much. That might
explain why V wasn’t showing her face or answering when he called. At least he
hadn’t been stupid enough to leave her a voicemail telling her what he thought.
It wasn’t V’s fault. That bastard Jake Sanders was responsible.

And
his pussy ass friends.

It
took a couple of weeks after he woke up for Zane to remember what happened.
Once he did, the images continued to sneak up on him at the most inopportune
times. Just thinking about how they came at him, all four armed with fucking
tire irons, still pissed him off. But, Zane wasn’t all that worried about Jake
and his band of losers. Not a single one of them had shown their face in town
since that day, and he figured it would be a long time before they did.

Especially
since, word was out that Travis Walker, Zane’s oldest brother, was looking for
them.

Literally.

But
Trav wasn’t going to be the only Walker looking for them. As soon as Zane was
able to walk out of the hospital on his own two feet, he vowed to apply a little
Walker retribution of his own.

As
it turned out, that day was today.

“So
you haven’t heard that Jake contacted her?” Braydon spoke, and Zane turned to
look at him.

“
What?
”

“Kaleb
mentioned it this morning. V seems to be blowing it off, but Zoey’s really worried.”

“What
the hell did he say?”

“Don’t
know for sure, but apparently he got her phone number somehow. Looks like he
might’ve been the one behind the texts she was getting, too,” Braydon stated
calmly, as though they were talking about the weather, sitting in the guest
chair with his attention divided between the silent television and Zane’s face.

“Texts?
When did she start receiving them?”
What the fuck?
No one told him
anything about any damn texts.

Braydon
managed to pry his face out of the television long enough to look back at Zane,
but turned back again.

Fucking
hell.
Having a conversation with Braydon, or Brendon, for
that matter, took a considerable amount of effort. Their attention spans were
so damn short, it was a miracle they remembered their own fucking names.

“Don’t
know. Ask her.”

He
would ask her if she would answer her damn phone.

Zane
grabbed his cell phone from the rollaway bedside table and ran through his
contacts. With surprisingly nimble fingers, he typed out a text.

You
better get your ass here to pick me up, or I’m walking.

Zane
had had enough of this hell hole. If luck was on his side, Travis would answer
the text quickly because it was time for Zane to blow this joint.

An
hour and a half later, and not a second too soon, Zane was following Travis out
into the brilliant Central Texas sunshine. He didn’t look back at the hospital,
just continued to move his feet forward. His oldest brother had been kind
enough to bring Zane a pair of jeans, his boots, and a t-shirt and for the
first time in a long time, he actually felt like himself.

He’d
been wearing his own clothes for the last month and a half while he was in the
hospital, but never more than sweats or shorts. He figured there wasn’t any
reason to get dressed more than that because someone was always poking and
prodding, or sending him down to the rehabilitation center for a few minutes of
“activity”.

The
weather had changed a bit since he went in. No longer was it oppressively hot.
Instead, it was mildly warm, but that’s what was to be expected in Texas. They
didn’t have harsh winters because the severe weather was reserved for the
blistering summers. Even in December he didn’t need a jacket. However, that
could change overnight.