Page 54 of Shattered Hearts

“She took different antidepressants. None of them seemed like they helped. I’d wake up in the middle of the night and hear her crying. The only time she was happy was when she was with Troy.”

He smiles, barely. “Thanks.”

Meredith sighs and rests her head on his shoulder. It’s not sexual—I don’t feel a vibe that’s not anything but friendship. They’re bonded by loving a woman who’s now dead.

“How are your parents holding up?”

“It’s hard. They had people over after the memorial, and I overheard our priest talking to them. He said it wasn’t a surprise she let the devil tempt her, because of how she behaved. He implied God would give her what she deserved for killing herself.”

“Do either of you believe that?” I ask.

“Mr. Davenport, I think she was murdered. That’s why we’re here. Have you looked at the video I sent you?” Meredith’s getting angry.

Calmly, I say, “I did. We both did. Several times. And we talked to your neighbors. The power company was doing maintenance in the area. If your house needed work done, it’s only natural a technician would be there.”

“And at the same time Savannah kills herself.”

“I have a connection at the police department. Only her fingerprints were on the knife, Meredith.”

“That doesn’t mean jack shit.” Troy glares at me. “So that’s it? Did you call the power company? Did they have a reason to be on Vannah’s street?”

I clench my jaw and tamp down my anger. I don’t like being called out for not doing my job. “No, we didn’t, and maybe we could have, but there isn’t any evidence suggesting Savannah was murdered. I don’t know what else we can do. If you have any suggestions, we’re open to looking into them.”

“Talk to the people who worked at Quiet Meadows, then. Find out how many more girls they hurt.” Meredith sniffs. “I saw onTruth or Dareyou’re dating Zarah Maddox. Don’t you want to know what they were doing to her?”

No. No, I don’t. I want to crawl under the bed and hide from every despicable thing anyone has ever done to her.

“Miss Maddox’s doctor is in prison for malpractice, Ashton Black is in prison, and the FBI completed their investigation. There’s nothing we can do that they can’t or haven’t.”

Meredith deflates, sinks into the bench like a balloon out of air.

“I’m sorry. Your sister sounded . . . troubled . . . and she wasn’t seeing a therapist.”

She slides out of the booth and Troy follows her, throwing a twenty onto the table. He looks at me, his eyes dark and full of pain. “What if the love of your life, your other half, yoursoulmate,took her own life, huh, Davenport? What would you do? Would you believe it? When she promised you her future? When she promised youeverything?”

Head bowed, he walks away.

Later that afternoon Pop and I are at the office doing last-minute paperwork before heading home, and a breaking news report blinks on, interrupting the local sports update. “Troy Baldwin, thirty-three, and Meredith Mesa, twenty-five, were found dead in Manchester Park earlier today, in what appeared to be a horrifying suicide pact. There were no witnesses and the King’s Crossing police department is not planning an investigation at this time. Their families plead for privacy while they mourn the loss of their children.”

I don’t care if it’s not safe. I don’t care if I’m being targeted. I don’t care if Ashton Black has some sick fantasy involving my death because I’m in love with Zarah. All I care about is seeingher, being near her, and I wrap my body around hers as I devour her mouth, our tongues tangling, her hands roaming my body.

I press my cock into her hip. We’ve already done it once since Douglas dropped her off after I came home, Troy’s and Meredith’s suicides like glue slowing down my brainwaves and turning the blood in my veins into sludge. The guilt brought me to my knees, and in our office’s little bathroom, I sank to the floor and cried against the toilet bowl.

She stepped into my apartment and I attacked her, a purely selfish bid to rinse the taste of blame out of my mouth, but she didn’t mind, undressing me just as quickly, the snow not having a chance to melt off her boots.

This is where I need her. Close to me, sweat drenching her skin, her body hot.

She whimpers.

My fingers find her swollen and wet, God, so wet, and her clit is engorged, all mine. Her hand grips my cock, fast, frantic strokes, and I lose myself in her touch.

I need her. I need her more than water or sustenance, more than oxygen, and with a clarity I can’t block out of my mind and heart, I know how Troy felt. I know how I would feel if Zarah were no longer on this earth.

I’d go mad.

I’m in too deep, and it’s going to get us both hurt.

Pressing my thumb to her clit, I have two fingers as deeply inside her as they can be, and I make her come. The orgasm travels through her body and she sobs, her breath fanning against my skin.

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