War of Hearts Page 7

  “Hey, brother,” he says. Then, taking in my sweaty appearance, he frowns. “You look like you’ve just done a workout.”

  “I fucking have,” I mutter. Jerking my chin towards the house, I say, “She give you much grief?”

  “Nah, man, she gives me cake. Why? You having problems with her?”

  I never did see that cake. “You could say that.”

  “She’s sweet as pie to me. Just like her mama. What’d you do to piss her off?”

  “Got no fucking idea.” I do have an idea, and it’s that King’s daughter doesn’t like to be told when she’s being an entitled princess.

  I leave her to Mace and head to the clubhouse to see King. Once I’m finished there, I pick up some beer and go home. I’m less than impressed when I get home and find Lynette waiting for me.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” I ask as I take the steps up to my front door.

  She comes towards me, a flirty smile in place. “Aw, don’t be like that, Fury. I thought we could make up after last week.”

  I push her away when she gets too close. “Make up for what? I told you I never wanted to see you again.” Jesus, these women today.

  Confusion creeps into her eyes, which perplexes me. I was straight up with her last week; I told her nothing would ever happen between us, so fuck knows why she’s confused. She bites her lip. “I thought you just said that in the heat of the moment, you know, while we were fighting. I didn’t think you meant it.”

  “Lynette, we need to get one thing straight: I never say anything I don’t mean, so when I say something, take it the fuck in.”

  She fiddles with her necklace and then traces her finger along her collarbone while fluttering her lashes. Fuck me. I do not need this shit tonight. “What if I say sorry for losing it at you last week? What would you say to that?”

  “I’d tell you it changes nothing.”

  “You’re being serious, aren’t you? I mean, I’m just happy to suck your dick if that’s all you want. I won’t give you any problems—”

  I can’t listen to this anymore. “Can you hear yourself? The disrespect you’re showing yourself? Why in the fuck would you want to suck my dick after everything I’ve just said to you?”

  She appears to finally be getting it when she frowns and says, “Well now you’re just being an asshole. You’ve never had a problem fucking me before. It’s not like you’ve ever shown me any respect.”

  “Yeah, I have. I’m all for sex, but I’ll never fuck a woman who doesn’t understand it’s just sex. I admit I misread you. I’m sorry you thought this was more than what it was. And now I’m respecting you enough to not fuck you.”

  After thinking about that for a few moments, she does the complete opposite of what I thought she’d do. Instead of leaving, she moves closer and smiles. “Okay, so I get it now. This isn’t anything more than sex.”

  I shove my fingers through my hair. “Fucking hell, Lynette. What the fuck are you doing? This is nothing. I’m not fucking you again. You need to leave.”

  Her lips flatten and she finally does something smart when she steps away from me. “Fine. But you’re missing out on something here. You know we were magic in bed. Don’t bother calling me when you remember that and miss me.”

  I watch her go, thinking about what she said. We did have good sex. It’s why I slept with her a few times. But it wasn’t magic. I sure as fuck wouldn’t be pushing her away if I felt like it was. I’m not even convinced magic exists in the way she thinks it does. Sex is a pure physical release as far as I’m concerned. Nothing more.

  Once she’s gone, I head inside, grab a beer, and kick back on the couch. I need a shower, but I need this beer more. As I suck some back, my thoughts go straight to Zara and my mind conjures up an image of her in those running shorts. It also flashes her attitude with that image. I’m not usually a fan of women who argue back, so it surprises the fuck out of me that I’m turned on by her sass. I want to take that sass and force her to shut up, but I also want more of it. She’s a goddam mindfuck is what she is, and I can’t recall ever feeling this way about a woman before.

  A teenager.

  She’s a fucking teenager.

  Seven years younger than you.

  And King’s fucking daughter.

  I throw more beer down my throat.

  Any way I look at this, I lose. If I continue watching her, my dick is just gonna get harder for her. I fucking know that. If I follow through on that, I’m a dead fucking man as far as King’s concerned. And if I ask him to remove me and give me something else to do, he’s gonna be pissed. You don’t ask King for a different job. Not if you wanna stay on his good side.

  Fuck.

  I finish the beer and strip so I can take a shower, continuing to turn these thoughts over in my mind. By the time I’ve finished in the shower, I’ve decided I need to suck it up and make this job work. There’s plenty of fucking women out there; Zara’s not the only one.

  8

  Zara

  * * *

  This week is not my best week. I’m ready for it to come to an end. Work has been challenging; my boss seems to be cranky with me more often than happy with me. We’ve mostly always gotten along well, but lately he’s cut my shifts and doesn’t seem pleased with anything I do. Working in a bookstore is my dream job while studying, but I’m seriously thinking I might need to look for a new one. Also, Marissa has been blowing up my phone demanding I call her back or go see her. She’s shitty I told Tommy off the other day. It seems he’s not interested in hanging out with her anymore either, which means Puck isn’t either. And that’s all my fault as far as she’s concerned. On top of that, Holly and I have been clashing over stuff. And then there’s Fury. Infuriating Fury. Ugh, I don’t know anyone who is more of a pain in my ass than he is. I wish King would reassign him to something else.

  He’s switched to night shift today. I saw him pull up outside the bookstore just before 5:00 p.m. Joy.

  “Zara, you’re done for the day,” Allen says, cutting in on my thoughts. “I’ve reworked the shifts for next week, so make sure you check that out before you go home.”

  I frown. “Have you cut my shifts again?”

  He looks at me with regret. “I had to; business is slow.”

  Shit.

  Because I haven’t had many shifts recently, I haven’t noticed the downturn. I’ve only been rostered on busy days.

  “Oh, okay.”

  He’s still watching me with regret. “I’m hoping things will pick up, but honestly I’m not sure they will.”

  A customer comes to the counter to be served so I head out to the office, grab my things, including a copy of the new shifts, and leave.

  I was right. I only have two shifts next week. At this rate, I won’t be able to afford my rent, let alone food or petrol. Oh God, and I need to get my car to a mechanic. Shit.

  Thankfully, my car starts first go. Ever since Tuesday when it had trouble starting after my psychologist appointment, I’ve spent time praying that it keeps starting. Maybe God is on my side.

  I make the short drive to Mum and King’s home. I’m having dinner with them tonight. Although, I’m kinda hoping King won’t be there. He tried to call me yesterday; probably to ask how I went with the psychologist. I don’t want to have that conversation with him, because I don’t feel like it went well at all, so I didn’t return his call. And I don’t wanna get into it tonight with him.

  Fury pulls into the driveway behind me and cuts his engine when we arrive. I don’t acknowledge him in any way. Since our run two days ago, we’ve barely exchanged a word. And I certainly haven’t gone running again. I’ve decided to stay out of his way because I’m too bloody attracted to him to be near him, and he’s the last guy I want to be interested in.

  “Zawa! Zawa!” Cade is always excited to see me when I come over.

  I lift him up and give him a big kiss, which he returns with much more sloppiness than I gave him. His little arms circle my ne
ck and he smiles widely at me. “Daddy is making chocowate milk! You want some?”

  I return his smile. “Sure, little man.” I let him down. “Show me where he is.”

  Following Cade into the kitchen, I find King making drinks. He glances up at me briefly before going back to what he’s doing. “You want a drink, Zara?” he asks, already reaching for another glass because he knows me well.

  “Of course. And don’t forget the extra spoonful of Milo.”

  He looks at me again. “Have I ever?” His eyes flash with the lightness I only ever see when he’s at home with Mum and us. King’s always so stressed when he’s out of this house.

  I shake my head with a smile. “Never.” When he returns his attention to the drinks, I say, “Where’s Mum?”

  “She’s bathing Meredith.”

  “I’m gonna go see her while you make the drinks.”

  “We need to talk,” he calls out as I make my way down the hall.

  Yeah. No.

  “Hey, honey,” Mum greets me when I find her in the bathroom. “How’s your day been?”

  Meredith spots me and gurgles happily in the bath while splashing her toys around. I sit on the edge of the bath next to Mum and squeeze Meredith’s cheeks. “Hello, gorgeous girl.”

  She squeals with delight and lots more splashing occurs. Her happiness is infectious and soon Mum and I are laughing. I love babies. They make the world a better place.

  Mum reaches for my leg and rests her hand on it. “Tell me about your day.”

  I sigh, not wanting to share and bring us down, but she’ll want to know regardless. “It was okay, but then I found out business is slow at the bookstore and Allen is cutting shifts.”

  “Yours?”

  “Yes. I only have two shifts next week.”

  “Maybe it’s time to look for another job.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” I’m not excited about that idea, but I know I’m going to have to do it. Not wanting to talk about it anymore, I ask, “How’s your day been? How’s your pain?”

  She lifts Meredith out of the bath. “Not too bad today.” When my mother says “not too bad” what she really means is “very bad.” She chases that lie with a smile and says, “I’ll get Meredith dressed and meet you in the kitchen.”

  She heads in the direction of Meredith’s room and I go back to the kitchen. King and Cade are sitting at the kitchen table drinking their Milos and talking about fishing. That’s their thing, and I love watching King teach Cade all about it.

  King’s eyes meet mine. “Grab your drink and come sit.” That’s code for “come talk.” He then says to Cade, “I need to talk to Zara, buddy. Do you wanna go play with your cars in your room? I’ll come and play when I’m finished.”

  Cade’s eyes light up. “Yes!” Playing with his cars is his absolute favourite thing in the world, and having his daddy play with him ranks right up there, too. He takes off like a rocket, leaving me alone with King.

  “It’s good to see you so relaxed,” I say as I slide onto a chair across from him at the table. “There should be more of it.”

  “There would be if my daughter returned my calls.” The King level of intensity has found its way back to his eyes and his voice, and I feel bad for not calling him.

  “I’m sorry. I should have taken your worry into consideration.”

  “Yeah, you should have. Why were you avoiding me?”

  I wrap my hands around my glass, feeling apprehensive about this talk. King doesn’t know all the events of that night or about my abortion, and I don’t want him to know. I don’t want anyone besides Mum and Holly to know. I just want to lock all that stuff away in the “never to be repeated or talked of” vault of memories.

  Taking a deep breath, I answer his question with as much honesty as I can. “I didn’t feel good after seeing that psychologist. I don’t think she and I are a good fit. And I didn’t want to have to tell you I won’t be seeing her again.”

  He stares at me silently, thoughtfully. “Fuck, Zara, you know you can give me your honesty at any time and I’ll accept it. I might not like it, but I’ll never discount it.”

  “I know that, King, but what I also know is you’ll force me to find another psychologist and I don’t feel like I’m ready.”

  “Because it’s too hard to think about and talk about?”

  I swallow hard. Just talking about it like this is too hard, let alone talking about the actual events. “Yes.”

  “That’s why you need to talk to someone.”

  “I will, but just not yet. I need more time to process it myself.”

  “I don’t think that’s the best choice. Not after what I saw the other day.”

  “That hasn’t happened since. I’m okay. I’m working through it.”

  He leans forward, eyes boring into mine. “How many times has it happened?”

  It’s at times like this I wish King wasn’t such a good father. He pushes us to face stuff we don’t want to face, and right now I just want him to be like my real dad and let shit go. Let me get away with my own bullshit. But that’s not him and never will be. And I’ve learned that lying to him never works out in the end because he always finds a way to get the information he wants.

  I try to maintain eye contact, but I can’t. I feel like I could cry any minute and I need to blink the tears into submission. I also need a moment away from his demanding gaze. Dropping my eyes, I look down into my lap and take that moment. When I look back up at him, I find compassion in his eyes. It hits me deep in my gut and my heart, and I let it sink in that he’s just looking out for me. Loving me. I swallow hard again and say quietly, “It’s happened a few times. More than a few times. Maybe like five times.”

  “And you think that’s normal?” His voice is softer this time, the compassion in it matching that in his eyes.

  I shake my head. Please don’t start crying. Not in front of King. “No.”

  He’s silent again. It’s like I can see his mind working. Thinking. Figuring out how to help me handle this. “Do you think it would help if your mum went with you to the appointments? Even just to begin with. Or Holly?”

  I haven’t thought of that, but it might help. “I could try that.”

  “Okay, this is what we’re gonna do. You try that for a few appointments, and if you’re still not happy, we’ll find you another psychologist. From what I know, it can take a few times to get a good feel for each other, so hang in there for a bit.”

  It’s at this point I admit to myself it’s probably not so much the psychologist I don’t like, but rather the whole process. Deep down, I knew this, but didn’t want to acknowledge it. King’s going to ensure I keep facing it. I’m not sure whether to love him for that or hold it against him. But I say, “Thank you,” because at least I know he cares. And while I might be trying to avoid everything, the one thing I am aware of is that I need people who care.

  Mum joins us, coming to stand next to me. Sliding her hand across my shoulders, she says softly, “I’ll come with you if you want me to.”

  I don’t know what it is, but I think it’s the emotion I hear in her voice that does it; my tears fall. I can’t hold them back any longer. Gulping them down, or at least, trying to, I nod and manage to say, “I’d like that, if you aren’t in too much pain.”

  King stands and moves around the table faster than I can take in. He reaches for Meredith and leaves Mum and I alone. She pulls me into a hug. “I’m never in too much pain to help you, Zara. I hope you know that.”

  We hug for a few minutes, at which point I let her go and say, “I do know that, but you haven’t been well, Mum. I don’t want you to do stuff if you’re in pain and unwell.”

  She wipes my tears. “It’s what mothers do.”

  “Yeah, I know, but…” My voice trails off because there really is no point in trying to talk her out of this. I know she’ll turn up to all of my appointments whether she’s well or near death’s door.

  “Good, that’s settled. When’
s your next appointment?”

  “Next Tuesday.” I had planned on cancelling it, but I won’t now. I’ll honour my agreement with King.

  Her voice drops to a hush. “Did you mention the abortion to her?”

  The ever-present shame I feel over this floods me. “No.”

  “Oh, Zara. Baby, you have to talk about this with someone, and since you’ve shut down on me and Holly—”

  “I’m not ready, Mum.” My voice is harsher than I mean it to be. “Please don’t force me into this. It’s enough to be bringing up the mugging and dealing with that.” I am far from ready to face what I did to my baby.

  I’m saved from this conversation when Cade runs into the kitchen and yells, “Mama! I want dinner!”

  He runs smack bang into her leg and she scoops him up. I see her wince as she does this. “Where’s Daddy, Cade?”

  “I’m here,” King rumbles, joining us again. “I’ll get the barbeque going.”

  Mum turns to him. “I thought we could invite Fury to eat with us.”

  King nods. “Yeah.” He eyes me. “Can you go and get him?”

  God, this is the last thing I want to do, but the only answer King is looking for is a yes, so I nod. “Yeah.”

  Mum and King move into action, getting dinner underway. He heads outside while she pulls sausages and steaks from the fridge. I make my way out to the front to find Fury, dragging my feet in a delaying tactic that’s not actually going to achieve anything.

  I find him standing at the end of the driveway looking intently down the street at something. He’s so focussed on whatever it is that he doesn’t hear my approach until I’ve almost reached him. Without turning to me, he says, “You leaving now?”

  “What are you watching? It must be something interesting because you didn’t even hear me come out.”

  He looks at me. “I heard you the moment you stepped foot on the front veranda.” Oh. It seems there’s a good reason why King put him on this job of watching me.

  I move closer and narrow my eyes down the road to take a look at whatever had his attention. When I find nothing, I look back at him. “There’s nothing there.”