43. Mira

43

MIRA

The last few weeks have been a dream, but Dante was always lingering on the periphery. Whether I wanted to acknowledge it or not, he was a shadow in the picture, a dark cloud over the party.

Now, standing in a sea of screaming people, he's the entire picture. I can't look anywhere without thinking about him sitting out there somewhere.

Watching me.

Waiting.

"Do you see him?" Taylor asks.

I stop my scan of the stands and whirl towards her. "What? Who?"

There's no way I said what I was thinking out loud, but maybe I'm not playing off my paranoia as well as I think I am. Maybe it's obvious I'm one loud noise away from dropping to the deck and rocking in the fetal position.

This is the first time I've been in a public space since before the car accident. I haven't even been going to kickboxing, not that I had a lot of time for working out classes with wedding planning and unpacking going on. But still, I should've thought this through. I shouldn't have let Aiden guilt me into coming with his puppy dog eyes and his pouty lower lip.

"Who do you think? Your hubby," she whispers low enough so no one else can hear. She points to the ice, where Zane is waving.

The girls in front of us think he's waving at them and scream, but I lift Aiden over their heads and point out Zane.

"Daddy!" He throws both arms over his head, waving them so wildly that it actually sparks an impromptu wave from the crowd.

The entire arena moves as one and we stand up and hurl our arms in the air three times before it finally dies out.

"I did that!" Aiden beams, trying to sit down, but bouncing in his seat from pure excitement. "Everyone did what I was doing!"

As if Aiden needs even more reason to crawl out of his skin, Taylor hands him a family-sized box of candy that she nabbed from the owner's box behind us.

The box we were supposed to sit in until Aiden complained that he couldn't see anything from there and we were too far away.

The box where Evan is stationed, currently watching me like a hawk… if a hawk's goal was to protect me from harm, not eat me.

A buzzer sounds and the players skate out onto the ice. Taylor shakes her head. "Wow. Zane is starting."

"Why do you sound surprised?"

"Why do you not?" She arches a brow. "I figured Popov would bench him after what happened in the locker room the other day."

"What happened?"

"Oh… did he not tell you?" Taylor winces. "Maybe I shouldn't, either. I don't want to cause trouble in paradise."

I grab her arm, digging my nails in deep. "You love causing trouble. Now, open that big mouth of yours, Taylor, or I'll dive in and drag the truth out of you."

"Why am I both terrified and turned-on right now?" She pries her arm out of my grip. "Daniel came home from work the other day and said Carson and Zane got into it in the locker room. Something about Carson threatening you to get Zane to back out of being captain." She shrugs, like I'm not hanging onto every single detail. "I don't know, but it sounded intense. And kind of hot. People would pay good money online for any cell phone footage, but Daniel swears there isn't any."

"Carson threatened me?" I shake my head. Surely Zane would've told me about that.

Unless he's trying to protect me.

I saw his face the other night when I told him I could take care of myself. Zane wants to take care of me, but keeping me in the dark isn't the way. If he didn't tell me about Carson's threat, what else has he been keeping from me?

"Classic Carson stuff." Taylor dismisses the whole thing with a wave of her hand. "He's an asshole and I'm glad someone finally broke his nose."

"Zane broke his nose?!"

She shrugs. "That's what Daniel said, but he can be dramatic sometimes."

Zane broke someone's nose at work and didn't say a word. I had no idea. What other signs have I missed?

I thought Dante might have slunk back to whatever hole he crawled out of after he was caught on camera at the gym, but the truth might be that I'm not on the receiving end of information anymore and I'm too cushy in my brand new life to realize I'm in danger.

I glance at the young girls in front of us and the family off to our right. I look for a familiar head of dark hair or a red laser sniper dot aimed right at my chest.

When the puck drops and the crowd roars, I jolt and instinctively reach for Aiden's shoulder.

"Ow," he complains, frowning down at the gummy candies he dropped on the ground.

"Sorry, A," I mumble.

The players on the ice are little more than streaks in my vision. My chest is tight, so heavy I can't lift it to inhale fully. I'm surviving on tiny sips of air.

I just need to make it through the first period and then we can go back to the box. Or I'll pretend to be sick and we can leave.

Another roar moves through the crowd, and I shrink in my seat like a turtle hiding in its shell.

I try to keep my eyes on Zane—nothing can go too horribly wrong when he's here—but I have a hard time tracking him in the sea of red. So I shift my gaze to the back of the heads in front of us, but I keep imagining one of them turning around.

My brother's face grinning at me.

I spin around, looking for the nearest exit in case of an emergency and the realization that there are so many people sitting behind me—people I don't know; people I can't see—makes my chest clench even tighter.

The crowd roars again and I yelp. Actually yelp.

"That's your man!" Taylor grabs my arm and waves it in the air, and I think I'm going to be sick.

As she drops my arm and it slaps against my side, someone touches my shoulder.

I whip around so fast, my purse smacks the girl in front of us in the back of the head. She complains and Taylor apologizes, but I'm looking up at Evan. And for the first time in I-don't-even-know-how-many minutes, I take a breath.

"Are you okay?" he asks, voice low. The people behind him are leaning around him, whining about their view being compromised by a walking, talking giant. "You look nervous."

I can't even answer. All I can do is pinch my lips together and shake my head.

"Come on."

Evan helps me out of my chair and whispers something to Taylor. She gathers up Aiden and his candy and follows after us.

My heart races as we mount the stairs, as people in the stands turn to look at us, confused. Maybe they recognize me from the paparazzi pictures. Or they might just be annoyed at the people blocking their view during the game.

Either way, I don't relax until we're in the box and the door is closed.

"Shit, Mimi." Taylor rubs my arm. "You should've told me you weren't doing well. We could've come up here."

"I thought I—" I blow out a harsh breath, ignoring the tremble in my voice. "I thought I could take care of it on my own. I guess I was wrong."

While we wait for the players to file out of the locker room, Evan doesn't leave my side. He's my shadow, and I want to hug him. I want to give him a raise. I want to send him on an all-expenses-paid trip to Aruba… except then he'd leave my side, so I scrap that idea and decide to talk to Zane about giving him a raise.

"Aiden is with Jemma in the box," he reminds me softly. "They aren't supposed to leave until I go back to escort them."

"Thank you, Evan. Really. For everything. I was losing it back there and?—"

"It's my job." His voice is curt, but he presses a friendly hand to the back of my shoulder, steadying me.

The players start filing out and the panicked part of my brain is convinced Zane won't be with them. Every situation has only one outcome and it's the worst-case scenario.

While I was freaking out, Dante got into the locker room and is holding Zane ? —

Then Zane turns the corner with damp hair and a wide grin, and I want to collapse. From relief and exhaustion. It's tiring being this doom-and-gloom about everything.

When he snags me off the wall and loops his arm around my shoulders, I sink against his side.

"You left your seat."

I feel him looking at me, but I can't bring myself to look at him. As soon as I do, he'll see exactly how messed up I am.

"We wanted to go to the box instead."

"Before the game, Aiden couldn't stop talking about how excited he was to be in the crowd." Zane shakes hands as we pass people, but his arm never leaves my shoulders.

"It was crowded."

"As most crowds are," Zane agrees. "You agreed to sit with him down there. What changed?"

"Nothing. I'm?—"

Suddenly, his lips are against the shell of my ear. "Don't lie to me, Mira."

" Lies . Let's talk about lies," I snort. "Have there been any fistfights you'd like to tell me about?"

We're at the end of the hall now, well beyond the people waiting in the tunnel, and Zane grabs my arm. He turns me into him gently. "You're mad at me?"

It would be easy to funnel everything I'm feeling into a simple emotion like anger, but it's way more mixed up than that. I press my fists into my eyes. "No, I'm not. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Tell me what's going on."

I drop my hands and finally meet his eyes. "I think I need to go to therapy."

He searches my face, and just like I suspected, every thought in my head is laid bare in front of him.

"This is about Dante," he guesses.

"I thought I could handle the crowd because the last couple weeks have been fine, but I…I couldn't."

My hands are shaking.

I'm a married woman now. I have a house and a little boy who is as good as my son as far as I'm concerned—but some part of me will always be that terrified little girl hiding in her closet. I'll always be shaking and trembling, looking over my shoulder to make sure no one is there waiting to hurt me.

I clench my teeth to keep my chin from wobbling. "I got cocky. I've been locked away with you and Aiden for the last couple weeks, and I thought—I thought I could?—"

"Take care of yourself?" Zane offers.

I could grind my molars to dust right now and it wouldn't matter. My chin wobbles.

Before I can say anything, Zane pulls me against his chest. "You don't have to take care of yourself, Mira. That's why I'm here. It's why I hired Evan. It's why Taylor was sitting next to you and Owen was in the row behind."

"He was?"

Zane nods, kissing my temple. "I would never leave you there alone."

"I felt like I was going to die," I breathe. "I felt like I was falling apart. Aiden was next to me, and I could barely focus. I felt like I was putting him in danger, and I hated it."

"Then what I'm doing isn't enough."

I jerk back. "No. No, that isn't?—"

He shushes me gently. "I'm tough, but even I can't protect you from what's inside your own head, Mira. If you think therapy will help, then I'll get you the best fucking therapist this side of the equator."

The storm in my chest eases and I press my cheek to the space just above his heart. "Thank you."

"Thank you ," he echoes back, "for wanting to be the best version of yourself. Not just for you, but for our family, too. We need that. All of us do."