Page 157 of Flawed

I groan inside. I have no doubt the boys are going to be after her. I'm going to have to keep a close eye on things.

Another reason Chanel should come live with me.

I make a mental note to add it to the list when I talk to her about it again.

"Please," she whines.

I take a deep breath, trying not to throw Chanel under the bus and answering, "You can live with me if your mom does."

Confusion fills Zara's face. She tilts her head. "You want her to live with us?"

"Yes."

"Why? She never told you about me."

"Your mom told you her reasons, correct?" I ask.

Zara's face darkens. "She said she was afraid the Abruzzos would find out about me and hurt me."

I lean closer and grab her hand. "Yes. And your mom wasn't wrong in her thinking. They do horrible things. She did everything she could to protect you."

"But you wouldn't have hurt me. I asked her if she ever thought you would hurt me, and she admitted she didn't," Zara informs me.

Her admission makes me feel good. At least Chanel knew I would never harm Zara. I declare, "But if the Abruzzos knew about you, I wouldn't have been able to guarantee your safety. Your mother made the right choice."

"She kept me from you," Zara asserts.

I sigh. "I know this is hard to understand, but I need you to trust me."

She stares at me with a hardened expression.

I ask, "Do you trust me, Zara?"

Her face softens. She nods and quietly answers, "Yes."

I continue, "With your life?"

"Of course!"

"Okay. You've known me for less than forty-eight hours. You've known your mother your entire life. Don't you think she deserves for you to give her some slack?" I question.

Zara stays quiet.

"If the Abruzzos ever wanted to hurt me, they would have hurt you."

Fear crosses her expression. She blurts out, "But my mom told me I don't have to worry about that right now. Is that the truth, or should I worry?"

I glance around to make sure no one else is close enough to overhear. Keeping my voice low, I reassure her. "No, you don't. Everyone who would have hurt you is dead."

"Did you kill them?" she asks.

Stunned by her questions, I lie, "No."

"No?" she asks.

Part of me feels pride. She's so smart. I love how Zara's direct and not afraid to ask hard questions. But it also concerns me. I take a minute before answering. "No, I didn't. But you should know I'll never discuss my work with you. It's a hard limit I won't cross."

Hurt fills her expression.

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