The guy didn’t hear me as he rushed for Zola. “Oh sweetie. You look like shit. I heard about the stalker.”
Zola looked from me to him and then back to me. “Um, Alexander, could you give us a minute? We need to talk.”
“There’s no time to talk, sweetie.” Alexander glanced at his watch. “We only have an hour and a half.”
“I can be late.” Zola waved her hand at him and turned to me. “We should talk.”
“No, darling.” Alexander would not be dismissed as he walked around her. “The execs gave me strict instructions. And as you know, I need that bag.”
He rubbed his fingers together as if he was talking about money.
Zola shook her head. “Just give us five minutes, Alexander.”
My phone buzzed right on time.
I pulled it out. “Zola, our conversation…will need more than five minutes. Let me take this now. You get dressed, and…we’ll find time to talk. Trust me.”
She sighed. “Okay.”
It was crazy that I’d been in many situations where I was close to losing my life, but this was one moment I couldn’t be a part of. Only God knew what Zola would say in response to my confession. I wasn’t ready for that. Sure, she’d be polite, but would things be different.
Get some fucking courage, man. What’s the worst that could happen?
I thought about it as I left the suite and closed the door behind me.
I could lose Zola. No. Hell no. I wouldn’t let that happen.
I sighed, letting that knowledge pour down over me. When it came to the idea of love—love of family, love of friends—fear bubbled in my chest. It was times like this when I had to remind myself that I had control.
You won’t lose her. You’ve got control of this. If she acts different, then…
I didn’t know, but I refused to think about the possibilities anymore. Shoving it out of my mind, I picked up the phone. “Yes?”
Baptiste went straight to business. “I hopped on an early flight. Stark wasn’t so lucky. I met him later. We checked the apartment.”
“Good.”
“I figured you wanted this done fast.”
“I do. Zola means everything to me.”
“There’s been fingerprint lifts. We need a list of people who’ve been in and out of her apartment. The usual.”
“I’ll get that to you by the morning.”
“I’ve got an inside guy in NYPD forensics and a Zola fan. He’s going to run the semen that was found.”
“Let me know what you get.”
“Of course. I just wanted to keep you up-to-date.”
“Good. Zola has an event tonight at a nightclub.”
“You need us there?”
“No.” I gritted my teeth. My head had gone foggy. If it had been anybody else, I would’ve already had extra men at the nightclub event. But I was too busy avoiding answering questions.
It’s out now. It won’t be a distraction anymore. She knows. If she needs to talk more, we’ll do it and finish it. Regardless, I won’t leave her until the guy is caught. Whether she wants me to or not.
“Hunter?” Baptiste said on the other line.
“Yeah. I’m here.” I cleared my throat. “Just call me when you get something.”
“I will. By the way, I lined Zola’s apartment with salt. I put a line in front of the windows and doorways. No demons will come in while she’s gone.”
“O-kay. Thank you?”
“We should sage the place too.”
“Let’s get the psycho first and focus on the devil later.”
“Sounds good. Just understand that you will have to deal with the devil eventually.”
“Boy, don’t I know it.” I hung up and leaned against the wall, not ready to return to the suite where Zola was getting beautified—not that she needed it.
What will she say? Will she understand? She’s beautiful and amazing. Young, though. And…she’s my sister in the nicest sense…in the sense that her family put faith in me to love her, do her right.
I shut my eyes and thought about a happier time.
We were young. I was fifteen. She was ten.
Zola and I skipped rocks along a pond, loving the way they bounced and skittered by, leaving luminous rings on the watery surface. I had the rock skipping down to an art whereas Zola’s rocks tended to plop right in the center.
We sat as usual, side by side at Jefferson Park, on her favorite bench. A greenish-blue pond spread out before us, outlined with newly bloomed lilies. Butterflies landed on several, appearing like dangling, moving décor to the flowers. And it was a windless day, yet the air ran cool with the scent of spring. I remember the smell of a bonfire somewhere far away, just as I remembered the sounds of nature—birds chirping, branches creaking, bees buzzing. We were the only noise out there.
“These rocks are broken.” Zola let out a long breath.
“They’re not.”
“Are you going to have kids and get married?”
I scrunched up my face and slung a rock in. “Why?”