War of Hearts (Storm MC Reloaded 2)

We stay like this for a long time while she quietly sobs. When she finally lifts her head and looks up at me, every ounce of anger I’ve felt towards her has dissolved. She’s done some dumb shit, and I think she needs to stop with it, but I can’t blame her for being as human as the rest of us. We do some fucked-up shit when we’re hurting. I should know.

Wiping her tears, she says with a hesitant smile, “Do you often hang out in your bathroom helping screwed-up chicks or am I the lucky one?”

“Can’t say it’s something I’ve ever done.” She’s so damn beautiful, even when she’s a fucking mess.

“Thank you.”

I step away from her. “You need to call Holly. And then I’ll get you home.”

She nods. “Can I steal some toothpaste first?”

“Yeah.”

I leave her alone to clean up while I head out to the back deck to call Axe. When I’ve finished with him, I go back inside and find Zara sitting on the couch with her elbows resting on her knees, head down. She glances up at me when she hears my approach, and I suck in a breath at the torment I see on her face.

“I shouldn’t have been walking by myself so late that night. I shouldn’t have let him…. God…” she says, her voice filled with ragged anguish, her head dropping again.

I move closer, my brain racing to make sense of what she’s saying. The way she said “I shouldn’t have let him” has my full attention. Especially with the emotion that’s claimed her. “What?” It comes out low. Harsh. Demanding. Who the fuck is she talking about?

Her head jerks back up. She seems confused by my question or maybe by what she hears in my voice. “It might not have happened… if I hadn’t been by myself… if I hadn’t gone back....” She’s drunk and her words are coming out in a rambling, disjointed way.

I stop moving. “What might not have happened?”

She doesn’t answer me, and the silence between us veers into strained territory as my mind conjures up a bunch of scenarios of what might not have happened.

My need to know turns urgent, and this time my request is more than a demand; it’s a command. “Tell me what the fuck happened, Zara.”

She jumps at my tone. It seems to jolt her into a more coherent state. Tears well in her bloodshot eyes again, but they don’t fall this time. Instead, she takes a deep breath and says, “I didn’t have any money for a taxi, so I walked home from the hotel. I was too ashamed to call anyone and ask them to pick me up…. And that’s why I was mugged.” She stops talking for a beat before adding, “I should never have slept with that guy.” Her voice cracks when she mentions the guy.

“What guy?”

She swallows hard. “I met him at a club. I was just using him to make Tommy jealous…. So dumb. If I’d known he was into the shit he was into….” Her face twists with the same torment she’s been staring at me with and she shakes her head madly. “I told him no…. But I thought maybe it was just because I was inexperienced… that I’d start to like it….”

I don’t like a word coming out of her mouth. Crouching in front of her, I say, “He raped you?” I try really fucking hard not to take a harsh tone, but I fail. Motherfucking assholes that can’t keep their dick in their pants and their hands to themselves push me over the edge.

Her eyes go wide and her tears fall. She breaks down completely this time and I’m fairly certain that to pursue this conversation will only make shit worse for her, so I hold off on pushing her to open up. Instead, I move to the couch and pull her into my arms and let her cry for as long as she needs.

That turns out to be about half an hour. After that, she turns quiet and I feel her body relax against mine. I know I should get her home, but the way she’s clinging to me causes me to ignore that thought. I don’t want to interrupt the peace she’s found, because if I’m guessing right, she’s not finding much of it these days.

When her breathing evens out into a steady rhythm, I decide she’s sleeping here tonight. I refuse to wake her. Lifting her carefully, I carry her into my bedroom and settle her under the covers. She stirs a little, but doesn’t fully wake. I watch her for a few minutes to make sure she’s okay and then quietly leave the room, heading for the back deck again.

Resting my hands on the railing, I lean my head back and exhale some long breaths.

Fuck.

I pull out my phone and call Holly.

“Fury, where are you? I’m going a little crazy here with worry. When Zara called, I thought you wouldn’t be long.” I can hear the worry in her voice.

“We’re still at my place. She’s asleep, so I’m gonna let her sleep and then I’ll bring her home in the morning.”

“Just wake her up and bring her home now.”

“No.”

“I don’t think that’s the best i—”

“Do you trust me, Holly?”