32. Mira

32

MIRA

I've been on the run for almost half of my life.

I lived for years in a house where I didn't know when or why I'd be beaten, but I knew it was coming. I ducked and dodged shadows from the moment I escaped, scurrying away from city to city whenever I thought the skeletons in my closet had come to life again. When it comes to stress, I've experienced more than my fair share.

But nothing has ever set me on edge the way Zane Whitaker can.

It's been one week since the party—or, as I like to think of it, the night that Zane pinned me against the kitchen counter and destroyed my central nervous system for the rest of time—and I still jump anytime a door opens. Even when I know Zane isn't home, I rise to full attention at the slightest sound.

His hands on my body—his breath on my skin—set some kind of lingering expectation in me that I can't seem to shake.

And I've tried. Believe me, I've tried.

The four walls of my room have been witness to the depraved acts of a desperate, horny woman this last week. But all I want is Zane . The real thing. Not fantasies that dissipate the moment I'm almost there.

Which is why, when the door of the condo flies open unexpectedly in the middle of the day, I don't spiral into a panic and assume my past has finally caught up to me. I whip around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Zane in his sweaty clothes after practice .

I think, He's home.

Except, he isn't home.

His assistant, however, saunters into the entryway like she owns the place.

"What are you doing here?" I blurt.

Hanna whips towards the sound of my voice. Aiden and I have been coloring on the floor, so we're partially hidden behind the chair. Hanna's face turns white when she spots us.

"Do you need something?" I press. "Zane didn't mention you were stopping by today."

Mostly because I haven't been in a room alone with Zane in a week, but Hanna doesn't need to know that.

"I'm here for…" Her eyes cast around the room. "I need to pick up his suit for dry cleaning."

"You just got it dry cleaned." I end up saying that to Hanna's back, though, because she's currently tearing off down the hall.

Aiden is staring up at me, looking every bit as dumbfounded as I feel. I wish I could clarify what the hell is happening here, but I have no clue.

"Um… Stay here, bud. Keep coloring. I'll be back."

I tug my phone out of my pocket and fire off a text to Evan. Can you come over? Zane's assistant is here. She seems… off.

An understatement if ever there was one. I'm at least seventy-three percent sure Hanna was coming here to sniff the underarms of Zane's dirty t-shirts and swaddle herself in his sheets. I just happened to catch her in the act.

She turns into my room, and I break into a jog.

"Zane's suit won't be in there."

If Aiden hadn't woken up the other night, then it might have been a different story. But then, Hanna wouldn't have needed to worry about dry cleaning it. I would have shredded it off of him with my own two hands.

"Oh, is this your room?" Hanna looks around, nose wrinkled as she takes in the mess.

I fight the urge to tidy up. It's laundry day, but Little Miss Snooty doesn't deserve an explanation. She shouldn't even be in my room to begin with.

"How long have you been Zane's assistant?" I ask, shifting in front of her. "Weird you don't know where his room is by now."

She takes a step towards me, rocking onto the toes of her black heels. "It's my job to know everything about Zane, inside and out. That's why I'm here today."

Speaking of weird, that explanation makes no sense. But she doesn't give me time to linger—she pushes past me and continues on into Aiden's room. I hate that I'm trailing behind her like a flailing penguin, but she's Zane's assistant. If he didn't want her to have access to his house, then she wouldn't, right?

"You're here to snoop through a four-year-old's bedroom?" I snap. "Does Zane know you're here?"

She studies the bookshelf in the corner like she's ready to burn all of the new books Zane ordered. Aiden's therapist said reading would help him regain his speech, and Zane didn't hesitate. Packages have been arriving every day stuffed chock-full with books to read.

Suddenly, she spins around. "Who watched Aiden while you were at the party last weekend?"

Understanding washes over me instantly, and I almost feel bad for Hanna.

While my dirty thoughts have been on overdrive the last five days, Hanna has been stewing about what Zane and I may or may not have gotten into once we left the party. Depriving myself of Zane has pushed me to distraction, but at least it hasn't pushed me to misdemeanor breaking and entering. So, in that way, I'm better off than she is.

"I thought it was your job to know Zane's life inside and out."

Her lips mash together into an angry line. "I've been taking care of Zane for years. I'm not going to stand by and let you waltz in here and manipulate him."

I snort. "I'm sorry. You think I'm manipulating him? Do you know your boss at all?"

Zane is the last person on the planet I can imagine being manipulated. I didn't know him before he was sober, but he keeps a tight hold on his self-control these days. Proven by the fact that he was the one to pull away—not once, but twice , when we got close to being very, very stupid.

I never could have done that. Not in the heat of the moment.

"I know him a hell of a lot better than you do," she spits. "And I know that you're taking advantage of him. He thinks you're here to help him and his son, but I know the truth. You don't love him; you're here for yourself."

Hanna handles all of Zane's admin stuff, so he's going to need to find someone else to file a restraining order against this chick. She is next-level bananas.

"Thankfully, loving Zane wasn't in the list of job requirements for either of us."

She closes in on me, her face twisted into a rage that is genuinely terrifying. "At least Zane knows he can trust me. I'm not here for his money or his fame. I'm not some leech like you or… or that little fucking runt out there. I'm not going to suck him dry and ruin his life!"

Before I can stop myself, my hand cracks across Hanna's face.

God damn , that felt good.

She lunges at me, but she doesn't get close before a wall of flesh is between us.

"Everyone, take it easy." Evan the Friendly Giant holds Hanna back with one finger. "Let's all take a breath."

"You bitch ," Hanna hisses at me.

She tries lunging again, but Evan redirects her into the room and closes the door.

He holds the knob in his meaty fist and turns to me. "What's her deal?"

Hanna goes feral on the other side of the door, kicking and screaming a string of obscenities I know Aiden can hear from the living room.

"There isn't enough time in the world to explain." I rub my fists into my eyes.

I've slept like shit for a week and now, I have Zane's stalker trying to murder me. I know she thinks I'm sleeping with Zane, which is why she's so mad. The most messed-up part of all of it is that I kind of wish she were right. Maybe a few mind-blowing orgasms in the bank would make this moment a little more bearable.

"Do I kick her out?" Evan ponders.

"I wish, but she's Zane's assistant. Maybe he asked her to be here." I doubt it, but Zane is in practice right now, so I can't call and ask. I sigh. "How about you give me a two-minute head start? I'll take Aiden downstairs and meet you in the car. Then she can stay here and… do whatever it is she was going to do."

Zane makes enough money to afford a repainting job if she decides to scrawl a love letter on the wall in pig's blood.

The door is rattling in the frame, but Evan tosses me his keys and gives me a casual salute. "Roger that."

Aiden looks shaken when I make it back to the living room, but he perks up as soon as I mention going to the park. We hustle out of the apartment and hide behind the deeply tinted windows of Evan's SUV just in case Hanna comes looking for us.

But five minutes later, Evan waltzes into the parking garage with his hands in his pockets like this is any other day.

He climbs into the driver's seat and grins at Aiden in the rearview mirror. "To the park we go, young prince!"

No questions asked. No long, concerned looks.

God, what I wouldn't give to be able to put my head down and do my job without getting tangled up in all of this drama.

But I can't. I need to warn Zane that he might be walking into some kind of sex-crazed booby trap when he gets home, and that if he feels any strange pricks in the near future, he should scour Hanna's apartment for voodoo dolls. I dig in my pockets for my phone, but I must have left it on the living room floor.

"Can I borrow your phone, Evan?" I ask. "I need to text Zane and tell him?—"

"Tell him whatever you want. It's not my business unless you want it to be." He hands me the phone over his shoulder.

"I know this is your first long-term placement, but you're a natural. I don't know what I would have done without you back there."

He smirks. "Tell Zane that. Maybe I'll get a raise for not chucking that lunatic assistant of his off the balcony."