Page 64 of Virago

“Exactly what the words mean. What we did that night was real to me. What we said was real. And I guess I’ve been fucked up since.”

“That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. You bailed, not me.”

He turned away to stare at his knees again. “I know.”

Gia was confused. She hated to be confused above most other things, and now she was furious. He could have left it all alone, they could have sat here in awkward quiet and waited for Tasha and Zelda to be finished, they could have stayed focused on Zelda, but no. Zaxx couldn’t leave it alone.

He was doing it again, wasn’t he? Trying to pretend he had feelings he didn’t really have. But why? So she wouldn’t be mad anymore? What the fuck difference did that make? She hadn’t sent Dad or the uncles after him, nor would she. In fact, she’d talked her father out of calling Zaxx into the ring over it—for Dad’s sake, not Zaxx’s, but the result was the same. There was no reason for Zaxx to need her to like him again.

Unless he simply wanted her to like him. But why? And also no. Nope. No way. He’d had his chance, and she was no fool.

You know what? She didn’t need to be trapped in this awful scene. She didn’t need to play hostess or babysitter or anything else. He could sit here by himself and wait, and she could find another room of the many here to wait in.

Deciding that was the smartest move, Gia stood.

Before she could take a step, the door swung in, and Tasha came in. The look on her face pushed Gia back down to the sofa.

Whatever Tasha had to say, it was bad.

Chapter Seventeen

Tasha came into her office and stopped with her hand on the doorknob. She looked at Zaxx, then at Gia, and back at him.

She was a fair redhead in her late fifties or early sixties, but even so, the pasty sheen of her complexion now was unusual—and it was the canvas for an expression so weary and dire, Zaxx’s heart and stomach seemed to change places.

“How is she?” he asked. When the words came out like a staticky whisper, he cleared his throat and started again. “How—”

“We need to talk,” Tasha said, cutting him off, “and I need you to keep calm, Zaxx.”

Oh god. For the past hour or more, however long he’d been sitting here—actually, from the moment he’d pulled that afghan from Zelda while she lay on his sofa—Zaxx had been running doomsday scenarios in his head, trying to imagine what had been done to her, seeking the worst possible answers so he’d be ready when he heard the real one. He’d nearly made himself crazy with his mental conjuring. But he could tell from Tasha’s expression and demeanor that his imagination had not gone dark enough. Oh god.

She pulled one of the armchairs before her desk over to the coffee table and she sat down.

“How bad is it?” Gia asked, then added, “Actually, I’ll go out to the waiting room. This isn’t my business.”

An emotion burst through Zaxx so quickly, so forcefully, he acted before he had any idea he would or why he needed to. As Gia started to rise from the sofa again, he shot his arm out and grabbed her wrist. “Stay, please.”

He was still focused on Tasha, but in his periphery he saw the surprised, questioning tilt of Gia’s head, and he felt her relax back into her seat. She was staying, and he could let her go now, but his fingers wouldn’t release her.

She didn’t fight his hold, so he held. To Tasha, he asked, “How bad? Can I go to her? I should go to her.” He wanted to get up, go back to the procedure room, but still his hand wouldn’t release Gia’s arm.

“She’s sleeping now,” Tasha said. “I gave her a sedative, so she’ll be out for a few hours. Before I sedated her, I asked how much, if anything, she wanted me to tell you, and she said to tell you ‘whatever.’ So I’ll tell you what you want to know. We have time to talk, and then you can sit with her while she sleeps. She’s warm and, for now, comfortable, and will be for a while.”

“It’s bad, right?” he asked, as it was the only clear thought he had.

“Her injuries are fairly extensive but not life-threatening. I could treat her here without compromising care, and I can keep treating her here, since she is very firm that she doesn’t want a hospital. But what happened to her, Zaxx, is bad, yes. I’ve lived my whole life around the Horde, I know what your first impulse will be, so I need your promise that you will stay calm as we talk.”

That statement was becoming a refrain, and every time Tasha said it, Zaxx felt closer to losing his shit.

“Are you sure you want me here?” Gia asked him, her voice soft with concern.

He still couldn’t prize his fingers from her arm. “Stay,” he grunted.

“Okay.” She scooted closer and put her other hand on his.

He’d grabbed for her out of some primal instinct, like a drowning man flailing for driftwood floating past. But Gia’s hand on his was different. He felt a thread of ... not calm, exactly, but sanity pass from her skin to his and unspool through his bloodstream. His thoughts cleared enough to listen to the doctor.

Tasha watched them quietly until they’d settled side by side. “While I explain what I found in my examination, and what Zelda told me, I want you to keep this thought in your head: this is not something that was done to you. This is not for you to decide what happens next. This happened to your sister, and she should be the one who decides what happens—to her or to anyone else involved. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

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