4. Mira

4

MIRA

I shouldn't be here.

I should be halfway to Oregon by now. I even stopped at a library today and looked up "Things to do in Portland" on the public computer. As if I'm on a sightseeing trip instead of running from my deranged brother.

But as I scrolled through the list, I couldn't help but wonder what Aiden would make of a ride on the aerial tram or which books he'd choose from Powell's. I imagined holding hands with Zane while we walked along the waterfront.

Now, I'm alone in another shitty motel on the outskirts of Phoenix because I don't have the heart to face any of that alone. I can't even imagine being further from Zane and Aiden than I am right now.

Which is a problem.

"I just have to go," I mutter, testing out my voice for the first time today. The most interaction I've had in weeks is the motel clerk who told me he was glad I hadn't killed myself.

It could've been worse, but it could also be…

Well, actually, I don't think it will get better than the life I was building here in Phoenix.

"There's nothing for me here," I say more forcefully, trying to drill that reality into my own head.

I can't be with the people I want to be with, and the longer I stay, the more danger I'm in.

The more danger they are in.

So I shove the few items of clothing I have into my duffel bag and get ready for check-out.

This time , I'm going to leave.

This time , I'm really going to start over.

I sling my bag over my shoulder and walk to the door. But as I'm reaching for the handle, someone pounds on the other side of it.

I barely manage to bite back a yelp as I throw myself away from the door.

I wait for them to announce themselves—maintenance or housekeeping or room service to the wrong unit. I wait for my sign that I'm just being paranoid and this isn't the nightmare I've been running from for the last six years.

But there's nothing. Only an eerie, all-consuming silence.

My heart is in my throat, but I quickly grab my bag and retreat to the bathroom. Running is a finely-tuned instinct. I don't need to think about it.

As soon as I checked in late morning, I tested to make sure the bathroom window opened. I can use the trash can for a boost and climb over the sill. It'll dump me behind the building. I can run into the ravine behind the motel and hide there until I can get to my car.

Or ditch the car.

If Dante is here, he might know what I'm driving. But there's a Greyhound station not far up the road. I can take a bus and?—

Something heavy thuds against the door, and I jolt so hard, my shoulder bashes against the bathroom door frame.

This is it. He's found me.

I push through the panic and lift the windowsill, but it catches. The stupid thing slid open like a dream earlier, but now, the glass is off-centered in the paint-crusted frame. It's wedged in tight.

"Open," I beg, pounding the palm of my hand against the metal, trying to straighten it out. "For God's sake, open."

There's another thud behind me. The walls are shaking and tears are pooling in my eyes.

"Please," I whimper, jockeying the window back and forth to try to loosen it. "I don't want to die."

The words are barely out of my mouth when the door explodes open.

I scream and drop to the floor. This is how it ends , I think. In the fetal position in a motel bathroom. This is how I die.

"Mira?"

I look up and there he is.

Zane.

Every cell in my body sighs with relief. Not just that I'm not going to die tonight, but that he's here. Finally.

Zane's blue eyes scrape over the room, a frantic edge to his every movement. Then he sees me.

I see the same relief I'm feeling reflected back at me. His mouth falls open and he moves towards me like a man possessed.

I'm still shaking from the adrenaline dump, and I want nothing more than to curl against Zane's chest. I want to fall asleep to the steady thrum of his heartbeat and breathe in the wintergreen scent of him. I want to give myself everything I know I can't have.

Then my mind flashes back to Zane walking, dejected, across that parking lot the other night.

I hold out a hand. "Wait."

He slams to a stop in the doorway. His jaw flexes. "Are you hurt?"

I'm aching right now. Every lovesick part of me is dying to close the distance between us.

"You have a game," I breathe. "Tonight. You should be?—"

"Are. You. Hurt?" he grits out.

He takes another step towards me, but I fling out my arm. "Don't! Please."

It's been so long since I've seen him this close. I drink in every micro-emotion that flickers across his face. The pinch of his brows, the flattening of his lips.

"I've been chasing you down for weeks, Mira." His breath catches on my name, a hint at how much the search has cost him. "Let me fucking touch you."

"You can't, Zane. We—I have to leave."

"Fuck that!" he snarls. "No. You're staying. You're not going anywhere."

I press the heels of my hands to my eyes. Part of me wants to remove them and realize that I'm in an empty bathroom. That Zane was never here and this was all a dream.

A much bigger, more selfish part of me wants Zane to ignore my boundaries and wrap his arms around me.

I drag my hands down my face and he's still there. Still oscillating his eyes over me like I might not be real. "Nothing has changed. I'm not good for you and Aiden."

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to either of us." He spits the words angrily, but they're tender and vulnerable.

I shake my head. "I'm not going to be the reason that Aiden gets taken from you. Or the reason that you two get hurt. My brother is still coming after me. He will find me."

"When he does, I'll be there to kill him." Zane stands tall and I'm positive he can do it. If anyone could end the nightmare I've been living in, it's Zane. He could kill Dante.

But it would come with a price.

"You can't be there for Aiden from prison," I say softly. "I'm not going to let you risk everything for me."

Zane crosses the bathroom in two steps. He raises his hands to touch me and then drops them, a low growl vibrating through his chest. "I never should have asked you to leave."

"I understand why you did." I drop my eyes. "You were looking out for your son."

Suddenly, his finger catches my chin. It's the barest brush of skin against mine, but all of my nerve endings converge there. I feel like I've been operating at half power for weeks and Zane just gave me a jump start.

"I should have been looking out for you, too." He's close enough that I feel his breath on my skin. I feel the heat radiating off of him. "None of this is your fault, Mira. You've been running for so long, and it's time to stop."

My throat bobs against his hand. A racking sob bursts out of me, and Zane swipes his thumb over my bottom lip. It's more physical touch than I've had in so long. It's overwhelming. He's barely touching me, but I feel it everywhere.

"I want to agree with you," I whisper. "But I can't. Not if it's going to put you and Aiden at risk."

"We're already at risk. Aiden is crying himself to sleep at night thinking about you. He wakes up from dreams of you singing the lullabies you taught him. He asks about you every single day , and I have to—" Zane drags a hand over his beard. It's longer than I've ever seen it. It makes him look older. More tired. He meets my eyes. "I can't watch my son miss you another day. I won't do it. You need to come home."

Home.

The word radiates through me, settling like water in all of my deepest, most broken places.

I realize all at once that I've never had a home before I met this man. Zane and Aiden gave me a home for the first time in my life, and I want to go back there more than anything.

Tears burn in my eyes. I try to blink them back, but they won't stop. They pour down my face until I can't see. Until I can't breathe.

"Let me touch you," Zane growls. His finger shakes against my chin. "Let me hold you."

The last little bit of restraint I had is gone. I collapse against Zane, and he lowers us both gently to the floor. He curls me against his chest and soothes a warm hand down my spine.

He kisses the side of my head. "You're not leaving again. I'm not letting you leave."

I saw Zane the night he thought he'd found me. He ran towards that woman with everything he had. The same way he's holding me right now—with everything he has.

He told me before that being an addict means he doesn't do things halfway. And I know he'll sacrifice absolutely everything to protect me.

Which is why I have to leave.

For good this time.

No more shitty motels twenty minutes from his condo. No more sitting by and watching him try to chase me down.

I'm going to disappear for good: new name, new start. I'm going to give Zane and Aiden the clean break they deserve.

But first…

I lift my face and stroke a trembling hand down Zane's cheek. "Okay."

His eyes go wide. I feel his hand tighten on my back, pulling me closer. "Okay?"

"I'll stay. I'll come home."

The relief that breaks across his face would bring me to my knees if I wasn't already there. He's happy, and I hate that I'm going to take it all away in just a little while.

Then Zane's mouth is on mine, and I can't think about anything.