53. Zane

53

ZANE

As soon as I walk out of Aiden's room, I walk into Mira's. But I find it empty.

Same with the living room, and the kitchen, and the balcony.

Finally, I make my way down to the end of the hallway and push open my door. Mira is sitting on the end of the bed. She looks up when I enter, and there are tears streaming down her face.

"I'm sorry," she sobs. "I didn't want to be alone."

I push the door closed. "Don't apologize."

I start to move towards her, but she stands up. "No, I have to apologize." Her hands fist at her sides like she's clinging to the last scraps of her self-control. "I was distracted today. I wasn't watching him. I was talking and not paying attention. I let him wander."

Rachelle already texted and told me not to let Mira blame herself. She said that place was a zoo and it was hard to keep track of all of the kids. It could have happened to anyone.

"Evan checked things out before you went in, Mira. He told me he thought it was safe."

She shakes her head. "It doesn't matter. It was my job to watch him, and I didn't. And it's okay that you're mad at me. I get it. He's your son, and I put him in danger."

A disbelieving laugh rushes out of me. "What?"

She blinks up at me, and I didn't think the Wednesday Addams I met in that coffee shop weeks ago could ever look so innocent. She's bare-faced and her eyes are red-rimmed from crying. Sometime after I went into Aiden's room, she put on my shirt from the other night. The sleeves are rolled and loose around her wrists.

I grab her hands and pull her close. "When I found out what happened, the first thought in my head was whether Aiden and you were okay. I was worried about both of you."

She thrusts out her chin. "I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."

"But you shouldn't have to. I'm the reason you were in that situation, Mira. If it's anyone's fault, it's mine."

"You can't help it that assholes think they deserve to know everything about you. That isn't your fault."

I tip her chin up. "It's not yours, either."

She wants to argue with me. I see the fire burning in her green eyes, but she can't. Instead, she sags against me. Her cheek is warm on my chest. "I think I'd feel better if you were mad at me."

"I'm not surprised. You do like to fight with me."

She lets out a watery laugh. "It would be a good distraction." Her chest hitches. "Every time my brain goes quiet, all I see is Aiden in the corner of that stupid trampoline park, terrified. I see that man standing over him. I had no idea what he was going to do to him. What he was capable of. I didn't know if he'd hurt him or?—"

I tense and Mira must feel it. She strokes a hand down my arm, squeezing gently. "I should have kicked that photographer in the dick."

"We can hunt him down if you want. I can justify murder if you can."

She goes perfectly still in my arms. Does she think I'm serious?

Hell, I might be.

"Or," I push her away from me gently, setting her on the end of the bed, "we could find other ways to distract ourselves."

She tugs on her bottom lip with her teeth. "Sleep?"

"If that's what you want." She lies back as I crawl over her, doe eyes blinking up at me even as her fingers slide down my stomach.

Her chest is flushed beneath the collar of my shirt. When I kiss her neck, her breath catches.

For a woman who likes her privacy, she's pretty damn easy to read.

"Is that what you want?" I ask. "To sleep?"

A whimper lodges in her throat. She opens her legs, letting me settle between them. "Yes… After ."

We sink together in a kiss that feels as natural as breathing. She tugs my shirt off and I force myself to undo her buttons one at a time rather than shred it open.

I like the way she looks in my clothes.

I like the way Mira looks under me.

In my bed.

Sitting at my kitchen counter.

Holding my son's hand.

The last time something occupied this much of my brain space, I was forging checks and overdosing on dirty bathroom floors. But Mira isn't destroying my life piece by piece; she's making it better.

"Zane…" she gasps as I slide my hand between her legs.

She wants me as much as I want her.

If this is an addiction, at least I'm not in it alone.

Mira arches off the bed, wordlessly asking for more, and I give it to her one inch at a time. When we're sealed together, I drop my forehead to hers.

I should have enough of her by now. I should be done.

But I want more.

"More," Mira moans, reading my mind.

So I give it to her. I feel the moment she breaks, and I fall with her. I give her everything I have, and she gives it right back.

When she falls asleep curled against my chest and her dark hair spread across my pillow, I know this is one bender I may never come back from.