Chapter 39

Chapter Thirty-Nine

ZANE

Dad's summons comes when I'm in the kitchen with the cafeteria ladies, planning out lunch for Grey.

"Mm. Yeah, that's it." My eyes roll back in my head as I taste the seasoning on the spoon. "Don't tell Martina, but if you ever want to come back and cook for us, I'll make it happen."

"You naughty boy. You're too used to sisters fighting over you."

"I'm no longer interested in sisters. I'm a taken man, but I'll make the exception for you." I wink.

"Naughty, naughty." Gloria pummels me with the spoon, laughing loudly. Her hair is silver streaked and deep laugh lines crack the edges of her eyes.

I dodge every hit and then swoop in to kiss her cheek. "Thank you for doing this."

"You're the one who bought the ingredients, but why request such an expensive dish in the first place?"

"Someone I know loves your regular pasta. This one will blow her mind."

Gloria giggles. "Who is the lucky girl that has my sweet Zaney acting tonto ?" Her expression sours. "It's not the one who posted your nalgas on the internet, is it?"

"Wouldn't be the first time you've seen my butt, would it?" I smirk, leaning back on the counter.

"Ay yai yai. I did not spank you enough growing up, did I?"

"Gloria, don't talk dirty to me in public." I grin and dance back, narrowly missing a spatula to the head. Laughing softly, I grab an apple. "How do you know about that picture?"

"Have you heard of Jinx?"

I groan. "No, Gloria. Not you too."

Gloria gestures to the other cafeteria ladies whose busy hands don't fool me. They're all listening.

"The girls convinced me to download something on my phone." She waves it away like she can't be bothered to learn what an app is.

"Since when do you care about the secrets of Redwood Prep?"

"It's not just the school, mijo. Apparently," she looks both ways and beckons me closer, "this Jinx is posting about your father."

"What?" I grab my phone and check the notifications.

Jinx has several posts today. The one about dad hasn't gained as much traction as the one about me and Grey heading to school in the same car, but it's still there.

In Jinx's picture, dad is dressed in a monkey suit with arms raised behind a podium. The title reads ‘ Cross Versus Albertson: can a rock god win outside the stage?'

The story looks out of place against the smoky pictures of me and Grey, the fan video someone took of Dutch walking Cadey to class, and yesterday's video of Dutch's car bouncing on the side of the highway.

Why is dad's campaign getting highlighted here? Jinx even mentions dad's campaign efforts and highlights him losing momentum in the polls.

Since when does Jinx care about politics?

As I'm navigating the app, my phone buzzes with a text.

Dad: I'm in town. We'll have dinner tonight at the house.

Another text comes in.

Dad: Come an hour earlier than the others. You and I must talk privately.

I straighten, unease slithering underneath my skin. Knowing that dad's campaign isn't going well adds a new level of foreboding to the text.

"What's wrong?" Gloria asks, lifting flour-dusted hands to my face.

I smile, the one that looks perfectly natural to everyone. Everyone but Grey. "My dad wants to have a family meeting."

Her face drops. "Did he see your naglas on the internet too?"

If only.

The last time dad singled me out for a conversation, Grey's brakes were cut and she almost died.

This time, I'm not taking any chances.

I dial Sol's number as I head to the parking lot.

He answers on the first ring. "Yeah?"

"Keep an eye on Grey for me. Don't let her out of your sight."

"We have a lackey for that, Zane."

I pause and massage the bridge of my nose. "Fine. But tell Hall not to approach her."

"Done."

"I mean it, Sol. Call me right away if you lose her."

"We'll keep your wife safe, Zane." He pauses. "You want to tell me what's going on?"

"I'll update you guys later."

Tossing the phone, I get the car into gear and blast out of Redwood.

My sneakers thump the ground as I stalk into the house dad shares with Marion. Or, more accurately, the house Marion shares with herself. Dad is as much of a ghost to her as Sloane is to Grey.

My eyes track to the staircase that leads to Grey's room. I remember walking up those stairs and catching her in the shower. With her curls all wet and water dripping down her perfect face to her perfect body, I wanted to kiss her so badly it felt like I was on drugs.

That day she was a forbidden secret. A longing, a quiet poison seeping in my chest. And to her, I was a filthy secret that she was desperately trying to scrub out of her life.

Now she's my wife.

Now I'm her husband.

Now there's so much at stake.

The house is deathly silent.

Dad's car wasn't in the garage and neither was Marion's. I came here after seeing dad's studio was empty. Now I'm not sure where to look. Despite all the ways dad knows us, there's still a world of secrets surrounding him.

Something thuds behind me.

I turn around to see Marion at the front door. The bag of groceries she was carrying is on the ground. Apples and oranges roll across the floor, streaking past me like colorful tumbleweeds. A bag of meat seeps water and blood at her feet.

Silence screams louder than a banshee.

We stare at each other.

The two of us.

Different and yet connected.

She's the woman who loves Grey more than life.

I'm the man who loves Grey to death.

My brain searches for a joke I can make, an easygoing topic of conversation. Marion was kind to me when we were living here.

But now she's hard as ice.

I can't think of anything to break the silence.

Her fingers dig into her purse. "Should I say welcome home? I don't want to."

No, I doubt she would.

My gaze snaps down her outfit, looking for a crack somewhere underneath the expensive blazer and flashy jewelry.

"It's been a long time. You look well," I say politely.

"I look…" She barks out a tight, bitter laugh. A second later, her purse goes flying at me.

I don't dodge it, not like I did with Gloria's playful hits in the kitchen. The purse thunks against my shoulder and tumbles to the ground.

I don't flinch, even if it hurts.

Marion steps closer. Her smile is twisted and dark. In her eyes, I see a thirst for my pain. She's ravenous for it.

I remain in place. Keep my eyes locked on hers.

I'll let her feed on me if that's what she wants. I won't deny her the pleasure of trying to break me. She's someone Grey loves. That alone is enough to keep my mouth shut and my hands behind my back.

"Is my daughter with you?"

"She's at school."

"I meant," her tone is a bark and she breathes, reels it back, "is she still staying with you?"

I look at her calmly. "Yes."

"You're sleeping with her?"

I don't answer that.

"I see." She bobs her head and mumbles to herself. "You're determined to take this all the way then."

A challenge.

But I didn't come looking to fight with my mother-in-law.

"Dad is back in town. Since he's not home yet, I'll come back another time." I get a few steps in before Marion snarls at me.

"Don't think you've won."

I freeze with my back to her. Quietly, I say, "There is no part of me that wants a war with you, Marion. We're both on Grey's side."

"On Grey's side?" Another crazy laugh pours from her lips. "No. You're not on my daughter's side , Zane. You're a spoiled, depraved prince who was never taught that people aren't things and women aren't toys. The only side you're on… is your own. "

I face her slowly. She's trembling like a leaf in the wind. Her hands are fisted at her sides. Her eyes—darker than Grey's, more tired, beaten, and hopeless—pierce mine.

For a moment, I feel sorry for her.

Her turmoil is something I can reach out and touch. Her anguish is a bitter taste in my mouth. She's being torn apart from the inside, pieces of her shattering out like missiles toward me.

"Zane Cross. The Snare King ," she says sarcastically.

An internal groan rattles through me. Even the adults are reading Jinx's app now.

"You're no king. You're worthless. A joke."

The sticks and stones find their target. My heart bleeds.

A joke . It's what I've been all my life. Never bothered me until I decided I wanted to be something else. Something more . A good husband to Grey. A good man. But no one can see who I am because who I was is still following me around like a shadow.

Marion walks a slow circle around me. "I've seen you gyrate in front of a camera with your shirt off. I've seen you with your arms around half-naked girls. I've seen you kissing strangers. Touching their breasts, their bodies. All on video. Laughing as you squeeze their private places, laughing as they touch you back." Her gaze darkens with judgement. "You have no shame. None. And I didn't know."

She stops in front of me. Her eyes dart back and forth.

For the first time, her anger falters. Turns inward.

"I didn't know what that look in your eyes meant when you saw Grace standing in that restaurant the night your father introduced us. I didn't understand why your gaze followed my daughter every time she entered a room. I didn't recognize the way you looked at her, at her body, at her curves. The way you salivated and wanted. The way you planned to rut in her like an animal."

I grimace.

"Why would I think that a step brother would want to touch his step sister? Why would I think that my daughter, a teacher, would touch a student? Why would I? Why? Even gangsters have rules. Even drug lords have decency. Even prison inmates will kill a pedophile for touching a child."

"I'm not a child," I say firmly.

She talks like she doesn't hear me. "We all have lines. The worst of us. The monsters we lock away and try not to think about. Even they have a code of honor."

"Your daughter isn't a monster." I lift my chin. "Call me what you want, but Grey did not groom me. I was an adult when I chose her, and I was an adult when I pursued her. Everyone else can think what they want, but you of all people should know the truth."

"The truth is that you ruined her." Marion stares me down, going from thirsty to downright gluttonous for my pain. "But if you think that's how my daughter's story will end, you're crazy. You've blinded her, but somewhere in that love-struck, foolish spell you've woven, she's still strong. She's still fighting. She's not so lost in you that she'll let you consume her. Not yet. Not completely. She will break free."

"What if she doesn't want to be free? Or…" I look down at her, "what if I give her a different kind of freedom?"

Marion sneers.

"I have a past. I've had my fun, and you're right, I had it publicly. But I'm done with that. I only want Grey. And knowing I don't deserve her makes me more determined to earn her. To prove that?—"

Marion tilts her chin back and laughs.

The irritation inside rises to the bait. I itch to defend myself. To defend us . But Marion isn't interested in anything I have to say.

"Have you ever seen a little girl study in the dark? I have." She purses her lips, lost in a memory. "They cut our lights and Grace had a test the next morning. That little girl picked up her chair and moved it to the window to study by moonlight. And when the clouds covered the moon, she moved to the window by the lamppost."

I believe her. Grey craves the light like a motorcycle craves the open road.

She is everything that is good and right and true in this world. Her devotion to Sloane, her loyalty to her mother, the multiple attempts she made to end things with me, it's all because of that light. The more my darkness tries to pull her to the depths, the more her light shines through.

"Even if it means I lose my life," Grey's mother looks up at me, "I will save her."

With a choppy spin, Marion bends down, picks up her purse and takes out an envelope. She presses it into my stomach.

"What is this?"

"Divorce papers."

I temper my breath, forcing myself to remain still. To remain calm.

"I've already signed them." The envelope crinkles under her manicured nails. "I'm done being stubborn about it. I'll leave. I won't take anything but my daughter and the clothes on my back."

My nostrils flare.

I remain still.

Marion sees I haven't moved to take the envelope and her gaze strays to my face. "This is what you wanted, right? You and your brothers? This is why you screwed my daughter and held her at ransom? So I would leave your father, walk out of your lives? So you could have your kingdom back?"

"This isn't what I want," I practically growl.

The inheritance.

The plan to separate dad and Marion.

It feels like a distant world.

"I love your daughter. And I will never, ever leave her side."

Marion's grip on the divorce papers loosens.

The envelope wafts to the floor, as light as a feather despite the heavy, world-changing document inside.

I don't see her hand until it's too late. Until it's cracking across my face and sending my head skittering to the left.

"Take me instead," she spits. Cool sweat curdles on her skin, creating incandescent droplets that skate down her temple to her chin. "Kill me instead. Destroy me instead!"

I keep my tortured gaze on the ground, my hands frozen as fists, my mouth zipped closed. I stand there while she throws her purse at me again. While she finds more missiles—her shoes, a tube of lipstick, the glass cup on the counter and, finally, the paperweight on the credenza.

"Ah!" I cry out when the heavy object hits my recovering wrist. A perfect bulls-eye.

Pain throbs, flaring out through my body.

My shout of distress shakes Marion from her craze. She pauses with a basket over her head, poised to throw it at me.

Slowly, painfully, she drops her arms and the basket rolls across the ground.

For a split second, our harsh breaths are all that can be heard in the cavernous mansion.

"Please," she begs, as her shoulders slump, "let… her… go."

I cradle my wrist and look into the face of the woman who has every right to hate me.

It's time to leave.

"Call someone. You shouldn't be alone right now. Grey wouldn't want that."

The pain in my wrist is excruciating, but something tells me Marion is in even more anguish than I am.

"She won't care," Marion whimpers. "She chose you."

I freeze.

"In the principal's office, I told her that as long as she was with you, she would never see or speak to me again." Marion stares at the ground as her bottom lip trembles. "She stormed out. She chose you."

"I'm sorry," I breathe out, but I'm not sure if I'm apologizing to Marion or Grey.

"Sorry won't change her mind. She's made her decision. So it has to be you who gives her back to me."

That will never happen. I keep walking to the door.

"Nothing good will come if you stay with her!" Marion yells at my back.

I pause in the doorway. Turn my head slightly. "No. Nothing good will come if you try to take her from me."