30. Mira

30

MIRA

I hear the key in the door first.

It's way too early for Zane to be home. I know because, this morning, he dragged me out of bed and into the shower with him.

"I want a few more minutes with you," he said, kissing my neck as he shifted me into the warm shower spray. "We have media today, and I'll be gone until dark. I need more."

Last night should have been more than enough. But it wasn't. For either of us.

So now, I'm on the couch, a pleasant kind of ache between my legs, staring at the front door with wide eyes.

It goes quiet for so long I almost convince myself it was a distracted neighbor trying the wrong door. Or maybe I was hearing things.

Then three loud knocks resound through the condo.

I fly off the couch and fumble for my phone. Like every horror movie ever, it's upside down and I have to turn it around. Then my fingerprint doesn't unlock the phone once, twice, again, again.

"Shit!" I whisper, finally unlocking the phone right as Evan's name flashes on the screen. I swipe up instantly. "Hello?"

"Daniel is heading up to the condo," he explains. "I just saw him park in the garage."

Panic gives way to annoyance, and I stomp over to the door and fling it open. "You scared the shit out of me!"

Daniel winces, his spare key still in his hand. "You know, I realized after I put the key in that maybe now isn't the best time to let myself into Zane's place. Even if I've had this spare key for years and I knew him way before you did."

"Remember this argument when I decide to let myself into Taylor's apartment with my spare key," I threaten, stepping aside to wave him in. "I'll wait until the two of you go on a date and then show up around midnight with a Jason mask and a bloody ax… y'know, since I've known her longer than you."

Daniel eases by, hands raised in surrender. "Touché."

I close and lock the door, checking the bolt twice before I can walk away. "What are you doing here?"

"Allegedly, I'm here to grab Zane's backup car key because—" Daniel utilizes finger quotes. "— he locked his in his car. But, astute as I am, I know he actually sent me here to watch you."

I frown. "But Evan is here to watch me."

"No, Evan is here to make sure no creeps make it into the building."

"He's not doing a very good job," I tease. " You made it into the building."

Daniel just rolls his eyes and reaches for the remote, flicking the television on. "You should be so lucky to have my company. I'm a delight."

Daniel is, admittedly, kind of a delight.

Especially since, thirty seconds before he gave me a mild heart attack, I was lying on the couch wondering what I was going to do with my day. Aiden is in school and I would usually go to the gym or maybe out for coffee with Taylor, but telling Zane about the note that may or may not be from Dante really did make the whole situation more real to me.

My brother might be out there. Waiting. Watching. So, it's easier to stay inside. Where I'm safe…

And unbelievably bored.

Daniel flings a couch cushion at my face that I only barely manage to bat out of the air.

"Hey!"

"You were looking dangerously serious." He goes back to flipping through the available streaming options. "I think that's what I'm here to put a stop to."

"How do you plan to do that?"

He shrugs. "You're young and in love. Isn't that enough of a reason to smile?"

"It's actually kind of the problem," I blurt before I can stop myself.

There's a reason this arrangement with Zane was supposed to be emotion-free. There's also a good reason I tried to leave and never look back. Everyone would be safer if I wasn't in love with Zane.

Daniel threatens me with another pillow. "Are you going to elaborate or do I need to use this?"

"Neither. I had an emotional purge last night, and my tank is empty. If you want to stay here, you need to be a distraction."

He gestures to himself flopped on the couch, his prosthetic stretched across the coffee table. "I'm here. I think that's enough, don't you?"

"Definitely not. I can watch TV by myself." I snatch the remote out of his hand and turn the television off. Then I start to clap to a slow beat. "Dance, monkey, dance."

"No wonder you and Taylor are friends," he grumbles. "You're both borderline abusive."

I sit up. "There we go! That's something! Tell me about you and Taylor. What's going on there?"

I know far more than I need to about the frequency (and duration) of their overnight visits, but I'd like to hear things from Daniel's, hopefully PG-rated, perspective.

"There's nothing to tell. We're dating. It's good."

I glare at him long enough that he finally peeks at me out of the corner of his eye. "Taylor is my best friend in the world. Up until a couple months ago, she was my only friend," I explain. "Which means you better say something a whole lot better than that if you want to be with her."

He scowls. "You know how I feel about her."

"I do. Which is why I need you to be man enough to admit it."

He barks out a laugh. "Is that what a man is made of these days?"

"If you mean ‘emotional intelligence' and ‘vulnerable honesty,'" I say, "then yes."

Daniel slouches deeper in the couch, trying to ignore the holes I'm boring into the side of his head. But finally, he throws up his hands. "I'm super into Taylor, okay? Is that what you want to hear?"

"Yes, it is. Thanks for sharing."

But now that Daniel has started, he can't stop. "When I'm not with her, I think about being with her. She's the only person I want to talk to. I smile whenever she texts me, and the other day, she fell asleep on the phone and I stayed on the line and listened to her breathing." He spins towards me, shaking my arm for dramatic effect. "I listened to her breathe , Mira! That's crazy!"

"Sort of. But it's also sweet. It's also not surprising. You were following Taylor around like a little puppy a month ago with no shame whatsoever. It makes me wonder why you're all clammed up about it now."

He snaps his fingers and points at me. "Exactly. I was trailing after her like a lovesick puppy an entire month ago! And here I am, four weeks later, still trailing after her."

It takes me a few seconds to understand what he's saying. When I do, I grab the pillow he tossed at me and fling it back at him.

"Ow!" he complains, hugging the pillow with both arms like the pathetic manchild he is. "What was that for?"

"For not just calling me and asking if Taylor is as into you as you are her! I'm her best friend, Daniel. You don't think I might have been able to help you out?"

He frowns for a second. Then realization dawns and Daniel sits straight up on the couch, shifting his prosthetic onto the cushion so he can face me. "Mira, is Taylor into me?"

"No. Not at all," I drone.

His smile slips, and I hit him with the second pillow I locked and loaded without him noticing.

"Obviously, she is!" I yell while he glares at me for sucker punching him. I don't even care; he deserved it. "Yes, Taylor is super into you. You can tell by the fact that you are the only person she's dating, she's sleeping over at your apartment, and you're the only man I've heard her talk about for months."

I don't want to fully sell out my best friend to her current love interest, but if I was a recluse when it came to dating, then Taylor was a door-to-door saleswoman. She went from one guy to the next with no hesitation.

Until Daniel.

"Really?" In a second, Daniel is back to the lovesick puppy I recognize from a few weeks ago. "I've never felt like this about anyone. Even before my accident." He pats his leg. "Being part cyborg isn't exactly a turn-on for most."

"Use it as a litmus test. If a woman is an asshole about it, she isn't worth dating."

We slip into a long silence. Daniel doesn't seem to mind; he's just grinning stupidly to himself.

But my mind wanders back to the AA meeting. To Zane talking about the accident that changed everything for him.

"I actually don't know much about what happened." I tip my head towards his leg. "Zane doesn't like to talk about it."

Before I can even get the question out, Daniel zips his lips closed. "You need to talk to your boyfriend about that."

My stomach flips nervously. "Why? You were there, too."

"Yeah, but my experience is a hell of a lot different than his, I'm sure. Given the fact I was drunk and then woke up days later in the hospital."

I've just been assuming it was a bad car accident. Is there more to it I don't know about? Did Zane crash on purpose? Did he?—

Daniel reaches over and pats my knee. "Zane doesn't open up to pretty much anyone, so I don't want to steal his chance to tell you the story himself. That's all it is. Don't freak out."

I want to argue because I'm nosy, but Daniel is trying to be a good friend. So I decide to let him.

We end up turning the TV back on to watch way too many episodes of House Hunters International . With only our commentary to go off of, you'd think every couple on the show were bloody dictators who wanted five beds, four baths, and a tiled mud room with good drainage where they could string their victims from the walls.

When it's time for Daniel to go, he is halfway to the door when he turns around and pulls me into a tight hug.

"What is this for?" I ask, my words muffled against his shoulder.

"I've always wanted a sister, and you're gonna be the closest thing I'll ever have." Daniel pulls back, another sappy smile on his face. "And that's fine by me."

I turn into one of those chocolate lava cakes: stone-cold on the outside, but an ooey-gooey pile of mush on the inside. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He claps me on the shoulder. "Now, I need to go track down the woman I'd love to make my girlfriend. Catch you on the flip, Mirabel."

Daniel leaves, and I realize he did a better job of distracting me than I thought he would. I haven't thought about Dante all day, and by the time I meet Evan in the parking garage to get Aiden from school, I am in a certifiably good mood.

I walk around to the driver's door and knock on the glass. Evan rolls down the window, one eyebrow arched.

"Mind if I drive?" I ask. "I kind of miss it."

He studies me for a couple seconds before he hands the keys through the window. "Sure, why the heck not?"

The answer to that question is that his SUV might as well be a cruise ship and I haven't driven so much as a shopping cart in weeks, but it still feels good to get behind the wheel.

"You're a natural," Evan lies, gripping the door handle with white knuckles.

When his phone rings, he has to force himself to let go to answer it.

"Hello, this is Evan." He nods and hums along with whatever the other person is saying. Then, suddenly, he goes rigid. "When was the last time?"

I try to stay focused on the road, but it's hard when the hair on the back of my neck is standing tall.

I know what this call is about before he even hangs up.

"Dante?" I ask in a whisper, afraid to say it too loud and ruin this surprisingly good day.

"That was the security guard at the gym. They watched the footage and… It was him, Mira. Dante was at the gym. He left the note in your locker. He…" He looses a weary breath and tosses his phone in the cupholder. "He found you."

I open my mouth to say something. I'm not sure if I need to comfort Evan or myself, but there's no time.

There's only a blur of motion.

A screech of tires.

His door caves in. The giant SUV twists and turns like we're in a garbage disposal.

Then everything goes black.