by Alice Ward
Another. Walking toward him.
“We didn’t know each other long, but she made a profound impact on my life.”
Another. Me wearing snorkels.
“I miss her.”
Another. I was asleep on his chest. He was in the photo too. It was on the boat after the snorkeling trip, I realized.
I smiled. Zane was a better spy than I was.
“Please, if you have seen this woman, please tell her I’m sorry.”
I frowned. Sorry for what?
“And Sloane…” He looked directly into the camera, those green eyes gazing directly into mine. “I love you. I miss you. I’m worried half sick about you. Please… put me out of my misery. One word. Just one. Call me.”
The offer of the reward popped up on the screen and I laid the iPad in my lap.
Miranda’s hand came down on my shoulder. “He’s right. There hasn’t been a day since you were shot that he hasn’t called or dropped by the office. Even though I’ve been tempted a number of times to just tell him where you are, I’ve kept my promise.” She tapped the iPad. “But now, with a million dollars on the line, there is no HIPPA regulation, no change in identity that will stop someone from cashing in.”
She was right.
A tear fell, and I swiped it away. But another one followed. Then more.
“I don’t want him to see me like this.”
It was a terrible admission. All ego, no soul. But there it was… I couldn’t face the sympathy I knew I’d see in his eyes.
Her voice was gentle. “Isn’t it better than not knowing?”
I met her eyes. “He’ll stay. He’ll feel like he has to. Because he’s an honorable man—”
She quirked her brow. “For a total hot ass playboy.”
That got a laugh out of me. “Yes, for a playboy or anyone.”
Even before the shooting, Zane considered me to be someone he had to watch over, keep safe. I looked down at my legs. And now?
“Honey, why is him staying so bad?”
I swallowed the emotion that threatened to strangle me. “Because I’m not the same woman he met. I can’t do the same things I once did. I can’t…”
Make love? I actually had no idea if that was a possibility.
“It’s just better if he forgets about me. Then he won’t feel compelled or whatever to take care of me or some shit like that.”
Miranda frowned, her jaw growing tight. “Better for whom? Did you look at his face? His eyes? Did you see the strain there or are you so caught up in your own pity party that you can’t see what’s in front of you?”
My fingers itched to slap her. “Is that what you think?”
“Yeah, it’s exactly what I think. And I’ve been thinking it for a while now, but like everyone else, I’ve been tiptoeing around you.” She stood, jamming her fists on her hips. “Not anymore.”
“Don’t you tower over me. Just go away!”
“No!”
I stared at her, then dropped my face in my hands. She was right. I knew she was right. She knew that I knew that she knew that she was right. Or something like that.
I needed to face this. Face him. Put both of us out of our misery. It was the fair and honorable thing to do.
“Okay.”
Miranda sank back into her chair. “Okay, what?”
“Okay, I’ll call him.”
She closed her eyes in relief. “I’m glad.” When she opened her eyes again, she was grinning. “On behalf of me and everyone in the office, thank you for doing this.”
“Was he really that bad?”
She rolled her eyes. “Bad isn’t the half of it. Matthews threatened to arrest him a few dozen times.”
“Really?”
“Yep. And for the record, Matthews is in complete agreement that you should get in touch with the poor man. He said if he thought you’d follow orders, he’d actually order you to do so.”
“Is he still mad at me for getting shot?”
She rolled her eyes again. “He would have preferred that you didn’t. But he’s proud of you. For a rookie, you did good.”
I snorted and look down at my legs. “Well, I rookied myself right out of the field.”
“Have you thought anymore about working in the crime lab?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I’ve been giving it a lot of thought, actually. I think catching bad guys like that could be fulfilling too.”
“That’s great. I—”
“Sloane?”
Both of our heads swiveled to the partly opened door, only to find an ancient-looking woman peering at me through the six-inch crack. Miranda answered for me. “Who are you looking for?”
“Are you Sloane Anderson, young lady?” She pointed a gnarled finger at me.
Well… shit.
The woman grinned at me, her dentures pearly white against her wrinkled mouth. “You are, aren’t you?” She cackled, a distinct wicked witch kind of sound. “It’s her, Ethel,” she called out to someone who apparently didn’t have very good hearing and took off on her walker. “We’re rich!”
I looked at Miranda and groaned.
“Well, if you want that million dollars, you better beat that old woman to the punch,” I told her and she laughed.
“Actually, if things keep going the way I hope they’re going, I’ll have my own personal sugar daddy to fulfill my every wish.”
My mouth dropped open. “Spill.”
Miranda Moore actually blushed. “Remember the man who spoke to me at the airport before all holy hell broke loose?”
I nodded. “Tall, dark, and handsome?”
“Well, he and I have been chatting the past few weeks, and he re-offered his offer for me to visit.”
I wasn’t sure if my smile would fit on my face it felt so big. “And you’re going?”
She giggled. Miranda Moore giggled. Clad in the usual FBI garb — black suit, white shirt, sensible footwear — such a joyous sound should have never been allowed to escape. “Next week. I have some time off coming up, so I thought… what the hell.”
My heart squeezed. “I hope you have a wonderful time. Take yourself some of that boho chic clothing though. You rocked that look, girl.”
“I did, didn’t I?”
I wished I was going with her. I wished so many things.
She squeezed my hand. “You’re going to call him?”
I squeezed hers back. “Yeah. I’ll put him out of his misery.”
And me out of mine.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Zane
The smell of bacon filled the air as I stepped into the breakfast nook off the kitchen. When I left the island, I went to my parents’ place in Scranton. I just didn’t want to be alone or go to another exotic location.
It was only supposed to be for a few days, but I was still here most of the time, weeks later.
Acting like a lovesick puppy.
Sloane haunted me. I saw her virtually everywhere. Even her scent lingered on the clothes I brought home.
I tried to find her.
God, did I try to find her.
At first, her coworkers were mulishly silent, but lately, the looks of sympathy they shot me wounded me to the core.
I’d come to the belief that Sloane Anderson wasn’t her real name. If it was, the two best private investigators in the damn country couldn’t find her. The only Sloane Anderson they found of the right age and physical description was apparently dropped on this earth by aliens only a few years ago. Five weeks ago, they apparently came back to get her.
She’d disappeared as mysteriously as she’d appeared.
I didn’t think she was dead. If that was the case, surely someone would have told me. Not even huge men in SWAT jackets could be so cruel.
Then, where was she? Why wouldn’t she see me? Talk to me. Write me a note.
Was she really so coldhearted?
“Coffee, dear?”
I leaned down and kissed my mother’s powdered cheek. “Sounds good.”
/>
She inspected me as she handed me the cup. “Did you sleep better last night?”
“Yeah, better,” I lied, but she didn’t look convinced.
She sighed. “I’m worried about you, sweetheart.”
I sipped the coffee, not wanting to have this same discussion again. I knew she was worried. Both of my parents were. I just needed some time to dig myself out of the hole I found myself in.
My phone rang, and I dug it out of my pocket. It was my P.I. I answered the call. “Hey, Frank. Any luck?”
He exhaled a long breath. “It depends on what you call luck. If luck equaled a shitload of leads, yeah, we’ve had plenty of luck. My assistant is actually threatening to quit if we don’t hire some help.”
“Hire it. On my dime.”
Frank laughed. “Of course it will be on your dime, but that’s not all that’s on your dime. With this reward, you’re going to be paying off my mortgage while I track down and quantify all these leads.”
“That’s okay. Any good ones?”
“Let’s see…” I could hear him flipping through papers. “Your girlfriend has been spotted in all fifty states and half of Europe. One whack job places her as the ghost that hides in his closet. Another thinks she’s secretly living in his attic and stealing data from his wi-fi.”
I groaned.
“But wait, there’s more. We have her dating Kidd Rock, and one old crone has her living in her old folks’ home. Says she’s paralyzed and has a fetish for quilts.”
“You’re kidding.” I sank down on the stool, aware of Mom’s worried look. “I thought my reward would help.”
“And it still might. I warned you that this would happen, but the thing is, you’ve got to dig through a lot of turds to find the diamond.”
That made zero sense.
I shook my head. “Hire more staff if you need to. There’s no budget on this.”
“I know. I know. You’ve said it before.” Frank exhaled so loud it crackled the phone line. “Just hate seeing you like this, Zane. When is enough going to be enough?”
I scratched at the growth of whiskers I hadn’t yet shaved off. “When it feels like enough, I guess.”
Another long sigh. “Roger that. I’ll be in touch if anything sounds promising.”
“Thanks, Frank. You do that.”
Mom slid a plate of bacon and eggs in front of me, and I smiled at Barbara, the wizardly looking cook who’d been working for Mom and Dad since way before I was born. She gave me a wink, making me smile for the first time in days.
I crunched into a slice of bacon, even though I didn’t have the appetite. I’d lost weight over the past weeks, not that I cared. I still worked out like a fiend, probably even more than I ever had. Pushing myself in the gym, lifting weights until my arms were dead was a distraction. And it helped me to sleep. At least a little.
My phone rang again, and I was tempted to ignore it. Especially when I glanced at the screen and didn’t recognize the number. But because so few people knew how to contact me on my personal cell, I decided to answer.
“Hello.”
“Zane?”
My bacon fell to my plate. My heart fell to my stomach. I pressed the phone tight to my ear, praying I wasn’t hallucinating. “Sloane?”
Both my mother and our lifelong cook turned to gape at me.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
I practically ejected myself from the stool. It was her. I’d know that voice anywhere. “God…” All my air left me in a rush, leaving me gasping for breath. “Thank God. Where are you? How are you? God, baby, do you know I’ve been out of my mind?” Anger wanted to seize hold of the joy but I pushed it away. For now.
“I’m sorry. I… Zane… I…”
She began to cry, and I was man enough to admit, so did I. “Sloane—”
“My name is Lillian. Lilly Carlyle. I was named after my grandmother.”
I pressed the heel of my hand into my eye. “It’s beautiful. Like you. Perfect.”
“You don’t hate me?”
“No. Never. But I don’t understand.”
She sighed. “I know. If you’ll listen, I’ll explain.”
No. Not like this. Not over the phone. I needed to look into her eyes. Not that I’d be able to tell the difference between truth and fiction, but I needed to try.
“Where are you? I want to see you.”
The silence was so long I feared we might have been disconnected.
“I’m different.” The words were small, hesitant. And I didn’t give a damn.
“I want to see you,” I repeated, willing her to say yes. That one word would save my sanity.
“I’m in D.C.”
The bastards. I’d been to D.C. dozens of times, and her coworkers wouldn’t say a word. I could respect their loyalty, but damn.
“I can be there in four hours. Hell, I could take the jet and be there in an hour.”
She laughed, and I closed my eyes at the sound. “I’ll text you the address. Text me back your estimated arrival time.”
“I will.”
The call was winding down, she’d hang up soon. There was so much to say, so much that didn’t feel like it could wait. As I listened to her breathing, I knew I needed to be patient. I needed to not take control.
“Sloane?”
“Lilly.”
I breathed in the name. “Lilly, I’ll be there as soon as possible. Promise me you’ll be there waiting.”
“I promise. I’m ready to explain.”
The silence stretched, neither of us willing to break the connection.
“See you soon,” she finally said.
“Yeah. Soon.”
The line went dead.
“Well?”
I looked up to find Mom’s and Barbara’s arms around each other as they watched me, clearly waiting for the whole story.
“I’m going to D.C.”
Barbara hooted, and Mom covered her mouth with her hand. I hugged them both.
“I’ll call Steven and have him ready the plane,” Mom offered.
“I’ll make you up a couple sandwiches for the trip,” Barbara added.
I knew I shouldn’t be so hopeful, so quick to forgive and forget… but damn, I was happy to finally have the chance to see her.
Within the hour, I was in the air. An hour after that, I was on the ground. Mom had even hired a car and driver so I wouldn’t have to deal with traffic.
I was nervous as hell as I gave him Sloane’s — Lilly’s — address.
Soon, we were pulling into a drive. I looked around. New Haven Health and Rehabilitation.
My stomach tightened, uncertainty curdling inside it.
In a daze, I walked inside and was told that Lilly Carlyle was expecting me, and given a room number. But I didn’t know what to expect. Hoped I was man enough to face it.
“It’s him!” came a loud whisper, and a tiny woman with a walker nearly toppled her friend over. “We’re rich, Ethel! We can live out our days being fanned by cabana boys on a tropical island.”
The pieces fell together. Crone. Old folk’s home. Something about quilts and…
I arrived at room twelve.
Paralysis.
I was frozen, staring at the one and two on the door. I shook my head. This was Sloane inside. Shit, Lilly. Whatever.
It was her.
I’m different.
She had warned me.
My heart was in my throat as I knocked. It hammered in my ears, almost blocking the soft, “Come in.”
Then she was there.
Her.
Sitting.
Beautiful.
Her blue eyes shining with every emotion possible.
It was her.
And everything else faded away.
I could breathe again. I hadn’t drawn a full breath in weeks.
“Hi.” It was a lame beginning, but it was a start. “I’m Zane Boyd.”
She smiled, the smile that showed all her teeth and made her eye
s crinkle in the corners. “I’m Lilly Carlyle.”
Our hands touched, clasped, clung together. Then I was on my knees and my lips were on hers. The only place they belonged.
“I’ve missed you so much,” she whispered, tears pouring down her face.
I laughed. “I missed you more.”
Her brow furrowed. “I’m different.”
I tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “You haven’t changed.”
There was a great big elephant in the room. It needed to be addressed.
“What happened?”
She told me a story of bullets and surgery, physical therapy and probabilities. “I’m not fully paralyzed, but I won’t be dancing anytime soon.”
That sparked an idea. “You wanna bet?”
Her eyes narrowed at me, the woman I knew on the island shining through. “I’ll take that bet.”
I pulled out my phone and opened the music app. Decision, decision. I selected one and put the phone aside.
She was still looking at me funny as Mazzy Star’s smooth voice filled the room with “Fade Into You.” One of my favorites. I smiled down at Lilly — yes, Lilly — knowing we were either about to create a beautiful memory, or we’d fall on our faces.
I held out my hand. “Shall we?”
She clearly had doubts regarding my sanity because she looked from face, to my hand, and finally, her legs. I didn’t explain. Didn’t beg. Didn’t bully. I just waited.
Deciding to trust me, she placed her hand in mine.
Leaning down, I lifted her until she stood on my shoes. Automatically, her arms wrapped around my neck, her body pressed against mine. I held her tightly against me, my forehead falling to meet hers as I moved my feet, swaying us to the music.
“How can you forgive me so easily?” she asked, her breath warming my lips. Her expressive eyes were filled with hope and fear and… lust, I was happy to see.
“Forgiving is easy. Forgetting will take a while. We still have much to discuss, but right now, I just want to hold you. Is that okay?”
Her eyes filled with tears again, and she blinked them away. “Yes.”
Damn. That mouth. Those lips. My dick pulsed, remembering everything.
Our faces were just inches apart, and the desire to take those lips, drop us to the floor, and take her was almost too much to contain. When I didn’t kiss her, she pulled my head down until her lips almost touched mine.
