Chapter 2

Chapter Two

GREY

"I saw those boys slinking around the hallway earlier," mom murmurs as she rakes a damp cloth down my arms.

"Ow. Mom!"

She glances down, notices her rag is shredding my skin and slows her pace.

"And what boys?" I ask, closing my eyes now that her touch is gentler.

" Those boys."

My eyes shoot open and I freeze, taking account of her unsmiling face. Mom looks like a child who caught a whiff of the most unpleasant scent.

"Last I checked, Finn, Dutch and Za…" Mom levels me a stink eye to end all stink eyes and I meekly finish, " Jarod's sons agreed not to come to the hospital. So maybe they're here for Cadey's sake."

Perhaps Dutch and Cadey are finally having a baby?

I know Cadey fears not being able to get pregnant. I doubt Dutch still cares about having a baby for his inheritance, but I also doubt that he can get Cadey to stop obsessing over it.

"Humph." The rag gains in speed and roughness as mom continues to wipe me down.

I flinch but, this time, I don't protest. Mom might snap me with the rag if I say a word to her right now.

She's been in a funk ever since the day of the accident.

Actually, mom was angry before then.

I know the exact moment it happened. It was the day she saw me and Zane together and figured out that we were… that we had… something . Immediately, mom's dream of having a big, happy family imploded.

She became a different person overnight.

Before, she used to fuss over her ‘new sons', desperate to have them around. Now, she'll brutally list all their faults and never forgets to remind me that I should stay away from them.

Zane was the first person mom chased out of my hospital room when she arrived after my accident. Dutch and Cadey kept trying to visit while mom was out and, when she caught them, she flipped her lid, screaming about how no one respects her.

The meltdown spiked her blood pressure and landed her in the hospital room right beside mine. I asked the guys to keep their distance so, for the past couple days, they've been abiding by those boundaries.

But mom is still on edge and I think they know it.

After all the drama that went down, I doubt they'd come back.

Especially not Zane.

I hope he'll take mom's opposition as the final nail in the coffin that is ‘us'.

Whatever ‘us' there was in the first place.

Marry me . The memory pops into my head unprompted.

I dig my fingers into the blanket and squeeze my eyes shut, forcing the image of Zane's pleading blue eyes and deep voice out of my head.

"Did I hurt you?" mom cries. "Did I go too close to the stitches?"

I lift a finger to the jagged line tracing along my temple and disappearing into my curly hair. The stitches are almost healed but they're still lumpy.

"I'm fine," I say, forcing a smile.

Mom's bottom lip wobbles. "I can't believe someone was drunk driving so early in the day. What has our society come to?"

"Yeah," I nervously agree, gaze darting down.

Mom is already so stressed about me and Zane—not that there is a me and Zane. I didn't want to tell her that last week was not the first attempt on my life.

"I should give the police another call."

"Mom, I'm thirsty. Do you mind getting me coffee from the vending machine?"

She tuts at me. "You can't drink coffee with your meds. You know that."

"Something sweet then. Please."

"I'll see if I can find a bottle of natural orange juice. I'll be right back." She hurries out of the room.

I exhale shakily and pat my chest, trying to loosen the knot that gets tighter every time she mentions the accident.

Sorry I keep lying to you, mom. But the less you know, the better.

My strategy is flawed, I'm well aware. I can't distract mom from the truth forever but, currently, I have no plans to enlighten her about how dangerous my life has become.

A shadow outside my hospital room catches my attention.

Instinctively, I edge back in the hospital cot.

After Jarod Cross set me up to expose Principal Harris, the entire world felt like it was filled with boogeymen. I jumped at shadows, bristled at the nurse's footsteps during their nightly rounds and refused to use the bathroom alone. I also had nightmares about the person behind the accident coming back to finish the job.

Being on hyper alert means it's almost impossible to get a goodnight's sleep. I look awful.

Which is why, when the door opens and Zane strides in, taking up too much space with his incredible height and bulky leather jacket, my first instinct is to hide my face under my blanket.

I feel myself pulling on the sheet before I remember that Zane is eighteen, my student, my step-brother and…

Actually, there's no need for another and.

All those reasons mean I should not be concerned with whether I look pretty in front of him.

I drop the sheet and cross my arms over my chest instead.

Zane walks through the door and stops right beside my bed. As he stands there, my gaze meanders from his inky-black hair to his sea-blue eyes, and down to the sling supporting his wrist.

An undeniable concern takes over me and I can't tell if it's from a personal or a professional interest. Does his wrist still hurt? Is he taking his pain meds? Has he finally accepted that he won't be able to play drums again?

Looking at him now, something tells me he hasn't admitted defeat and probably never will.

Zane says nothing as he openly studies the scar on my face. I'm self-conscious about the stitches and the ugly gash they'll leave behind, but I refuse to touch my temple and let him know that his inspection bothers me.

It doesn't.

I won't let it.

"What are you doing here?"

"Grey," Zane whispers my name like a fallen angel in prayer.

Slowly, he reaches out and brushes his fingers across my face, tracing under my scar.

For a second, I'm breathless, flushed, and warm.

And then I remember who I am.

Who he is.

And I scowl, pulling my head away. "You shouldn't be here."

"Neither should you." His lips finally twitch up in that signature, devil-may-care smirk and the knot in my chest gets lighter, until it's floating, pulling me towards him.

But I don't float or lean forward.

I stay right where I am in the hospital bed. Where it's safe.

A buzzing sound fills the air.

Zane checks his phone and then glances at me. "There's somewhere we need to be."

"I'm not going anywhere with you."

He purses his lips, as if something in my tone amuses him.

"What?" I snap.

"I'm glad you still have your fight, tiger." He looks me over as if he likes what he sees. Impossible. My hair hasn't been combed for days now and it's nothing but frizz and knots scooped into the best bun that mom could pull together. My face is totally free of makeup and I have dark circles thanks to my insomnia.

I swallow hard, turning my head slightly away from him.

"You should leave before my mom gets back." I want to sound stern, harsh, but instead the instruction escapes on a shaky whisper.

Zane laughs at me.

The monster.

The evil, heartless jerk.

Rather than leave, he lurches forward. Placing one hand on the wall next to the heart monitor, he leans in so close his nose almost touches mine.

"Are you worried about me?"

"Mom despises you. I don't know what she'll do if she sees us together, and I'm trying not to get myself killed."

The smile withers from a cocky smirk to a thin line of… violent anger. It's so foreign to see on his face that I lean back a little.

No, no . Not Zane.

Jarod Cross has that inferno inside him.

Dutch is the same.

I've seen flashes of it in Finn too, although he does a much better job of hiding it than anyone other than his father.

But Zane's always been the brother who leaned more on his charm and attractiveness than his ruthlessness. Always the one with the jokes. The wild child. The rebel. The wise-cracking, smart-aleck.

Seeing him unleash that dark side now is disarming.

"Z-Zane," I stammer, my heart pounding.

"No one is ever touching you again," he says, eyes hard as flint.

And I shiver.

This is not the Zane I can keep at arm's length.

This Zane…

… is a six foot four monster of a boy, made to look even more terrifying by shoulders that expand far enough for his dark angel wings to thrust out.

This Zane damaged the last shred of human decency he had.

And I know that whatever comes next shouldn't involve me.

More buzzing erupts from his cell phone.

Zane wipes the frightening expression from his face and smiles again, but I can't unsee the darkness. Or maybe he's no longer skilled in hiding behind his playboy persona.

"We really have to go, tiger."

"I already told you. I'm not?—"

Just then, I hear footsteps thumping down the corridor and mom's loud voice echoing.

"How can you not have ANY natural juice selections in your cafeteria? What are people supposed to drink? Soda? For heaven's sake, this is a hospital! You should have healthier options!"

I dig my fingers into my thin hospital gown.

If mom sees Zane, all hell will break loose and there won't be a thing I can do to stop it.

Jinx: Dropping bombs and running away isn't befitting of a Snare Queen, Miss Jamieson. Trade a secret for a secret? Tell me who you're aiming your gun at and I just might grant you an extra bullet.