Page 77 of Shattered Hearts

We’re glaring at each other when Linc bustles in, breaking the hostile spell. He looks between us, calls for Baby, and disappears as quickly as he appeared.

“I’ll call for a ride home.”

“You’re going to make me sleep alone after what I saw?” His body relaxes and he blows out a breath. “Come home with me, please.”

“You still want me to? I don’t want to fight.”

“I’ll keep my mouth shut, I promise.”

I step between his legs and wrap my arms around his waist. “Well, maybe not for the whole night.”

“Hmm,” he hums against my hair. “You’ll have to convince me.”

Rising on my tiptoes to reach his mouth, I don’t wait to try.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Gage

Ididn’t let her see how sick her reenactment made me. Downright I’m-going-to-throw-up sick. She recovered a lot faster than I did too, sitting on the floor next to Baby, my laptop on her lap, perusing fashion websites and gossip e-zines, like she didn’t just send me to an early grave.

Pop and I settled in and got some work done, but he kept shooting me glances wanting to know how the trip went. I swear to God, if I have to repeat it, I’ll go fucking crazy. When I emailed the video to myself, I CC’d Pop and he can watch it later.

I send bills and updates to clients by rote, my mind on Quiet Meadows. It’s obvious they were testing drugs, and it could be as simple as Black wanting to make sure the drugs they were giving Zarah to blank out her mind were working. They could have been using the music to screw her up more, confuse her, agitate her. All Black wanted to do was fuck her up so terribly she couldn’t remember the men he’d sold her to, and to a degree, it worked. There’s one job she still can’t remember, and he could still be free. I hope not. If he and Black were doing business,chances are good he’s in prison for something else. That’s what Zarah believes, and I don’t want to give her any reason to doubt it.

Pop rolls his chair away from the desk. The sun’s gone down, and it’s dinnertime. “I’m gonna head home and watch the game tonight, see how the Vikes do against Green Bay.”

I resist snorting. “Have fun.”

“Might get in a good laugh. Goodnight, Zarah,” Pop says, shrugging into his jacket.

She wiggles her fingers. “Goodnight, Linc. Be careful.”

He smiles at her, his eyes crinkling. I’m glad he likes her, and if Zarah and I ever get married, he won’t give me a hard time about it. “You too, darlin’.”

Pop steps out the door and into the cold, and I dig through a stack of files on the desk. “Can you look at these pictures? Maybe you’ll recognize someone.”

I sit on the floor next to her and show her pictures of JodiAnne, Marci, and Savannah. Her hands shaking, she studies their faces and focuses on Savannah. “I know her. I saw her in the hallway in the basement.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes. But the other two aren’t familiar. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” I mumble, my lips pressed against her forehead. “Thank you.”

“What does it mean?”

“I don’t know. At first, I thought Ash was wiping your memory to protect himself. That the torture and the questions were their way of ensuring the drugs were doing their job, but if you saw Savannah in the basement, then what were they doing to her?”

“Maybe her family had something to do with it,” Zarah says, and I frown, a denial fast on my lips. “The doctors said it’s aggressive treatment.”

“Fuck that. Abuse isn’t ‘treatment.’” I pause. “But shewasa troublemaker,” I say reluctantly, not wanting to brush aside any theory no matter how disgusting it is. “It could be why when her sister hired Pop and me to look into her death, her parents wouldn’t talk to us. Maybe they’re hiding something.”

“This is the girl who slit her wrists. You told me about her.”

“Yeah. Your memory isn’t as bad as you think it is.”

She beams. “It’s not.” Looking at the pictures again, she asks, “Who are the other two?”

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