12. Monroe

TWELVE

monroe

I only awoke because someone clicked on the lamp beside me. The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was the hula girl lampshade. I struggled through the foggy haze of my mind, trying to remember how I had gotten in Zepp's room. But a black void of nothingness consumed my memory.

On a groan, I sat up, head pounding like a marching band. I stilled when my gaze landed on Zepp, leaning against the far wall. The torn material of his white shirt covered with blood splatter.

"Uh. Hi?" My gaze drifted from his clothes to the murderous look in his eyes.

The sky beyond Zepp's bedroom window was nearly black, which left me disoriented. I couldn't recall when I had gotten here. "What time is it?"

"Almost nine," he said, moving across the room.

Nine? I shoved the covers back, then staggered to my feet and swayed. "What day is it?"

"Saturday. Lay down."

"What happened last night?" My gaze swept over his shirt once more.

The seconds ticked by before he finally exhaled a heavy breath. "You're so damn lucky." Anger radiated from each punctuated word.

My pulse ticked up as he started to pace, panic breaking through my foggy mind. "Zepp! What happened?" I took in the bloodied shirt once more. "What did you do?"

"I took care of the assholes that roofied you and your friend."

Roofied? I got drugged. Jade got drugged. Closing my eyes, I lowered myself to the bed as guilt plowed into me. "Is Jade okay?" I whispered.

"I guess. Wolf took her home."

I stared at the comforter, trying to force some memory to light of who it was or what he had done. "Did they...?" I couldn't even finish the sentence. Disgust crawled over my skin like insects. His next words could break me.

"I don't know what he did, Monroe." He dragged a hand down his face. "You still had your clothes on. He did too."

I nodded, staring at his worn carpet while fighting the tears that threatened to rise. There was a moment where I felt so soiled, so degraded. And then like everything else in my life, I forced it down into a box that I locked away. "Who was it?"

Zepp's gaze met mine, full of fire and hate. "Harford."

My stomach dropped. Max? I thought… God, I was so stupid. Max tried to rape me. How did I not see his intention? How did I misjudge him so badly?

My eyes moved to the blood-stained baseball bat in the corner of the room. "Is he alive?"

"Why the fuck do you care?"

I shoved to my feet. My hand landed on Zepp's chest, tentative and unsure. I didn't know how to face him without my armor in place, and right now, I was stripped bare. "Because I don't want you going to jail for me."

Max deserved jail, Zepp didn't.

Rough fingers brushed my waist before he pulled me close, resting his chin on my head. I closed my eyes and basked in the warm safety of his embrace.

"I'm gonna go to jail for something, Roe. Might as well be you." And then he moved away, walking out of the room.

Something in me shifted beneath the weight of his words. Zepp was a thug, but I could no longer convince myself that he was bad. And in a world of pure shit, not bad was practically angelic.

The pipes underneath the floorboard knocked before I heard water cut on in the bathroom. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand, starting a text to Jade before the room tilted and my head span. I fell back onto the bed, inhaling the subtle scent of Zepp that lingered on the sheets.

Me: You okay?

It was a stupid question, but I didn't know what else to say.

Jade: I'm fine.

Guilt niggled away at me. I couldn't deal with all my other emotions right now, so I focused on that. On her.

Me: You sure?

Jade: Yeah, I'll call you tomorrow.

I stared at the ceiling, hoping that Zepp had hurt Max while worrying about the repercussions if he had. I'd only seen a glimmer of Zepp's temper, but from the look of his shirt, his wrath had been wicked. My stomach was in knots by the time Zepp stepped back into his room, covered only by a towel. When he went to his dresser, he dropped it, and I looked away.

The springs of the old mattress creaked under his weight when he got into bed. The smell of soap and a hint of citrus floated around me.

In the space of twenty-four hours, something vital had changed between us; the ground had shifted. He'd saved me from what was undoubtedly the worst thing anyone could have done to me. And without me even consciously giving it to him, Zepp had earned my trust.

"You came for me," I finally said.

"Yeah." No explanation, just a simple affirmation.

I reached out, hesitating before my fingers met the hot skin of his chest. Zepp surprised me by grabbing my wrist and holding me against him. The strong beat of his heart thrummed against my palm as the silence stretched between us.

He rolled to his side. "I'm sorry." A rare vulnerability crept through his ironclad exterior, and he looked at me like he was searching for something. For the first time, I noticed the air of sadness that Zepp wore like an old coat, broken and hopeless, battered, yet, dependable.

"Why?"

He shrugged a shoulder, twirling a piece of my hair around his finger while I stroked tiny circles on his chest.

"Thank you," I whispered.

His fingers brushed my cheek before he rolled to his back, holding my hand captive.

"I really thought he was okay." I rested my forehead against his broad shoulder, and his hold on my hand tightened.

"No, he's fucking scum."

Max was, and the fact I had ever thought otherwise made me stupid. Lesson learned. Again. Trust no one. Except maybe Zeppelin Hunt of all people.