Caveman (Wild Men 1)

Whatever it is, it’s obviously not me. He made that clear.

Hot and cold. Desire and anger. I chew on my lip as I close a box, sitting cross-legged in my bedroom. He was the first to get the dragon tattoo, according to Audrey, who asked Asher. Zane had it inked when he was thirteen, too young to need a mark on his body to convince himself he could survive.

But survive what? Nobody can tell me—or, rather, those who can, won’t. Like Asher, Dylan or Rafe. Whenever I ask, they clam up.

Who is his family? Does he have siblings? Where do his parents live? Hm… I should ask Audrey, maybe she knows.

Where is the dragon tat inked on his body? What are the designs tattooed on his forearms? What other tats does he have and, what do they mean to him? How did he come to be a professional tattoo artist before he even turned eighteen?

Ugh, I want to scream with frustration. I want to know all about him.

Uh-oh. No, Dakota. Don’t.

First things first. Find an apartment, find a roommate. I should have another look at Craigslist and also go check the boards on campus again. If I don’t find something, I’ll have to sleep on the couch and be the third wheel. Not sure my friendship with Bella can take it.

My cell chimes. It’s Audrey. ‘Picnic in the park!’ the text reads. ‘Coming?’

Oh hell yeah! It’s summer! I won’t let this moving crisis distract me from the fun of it. I missed having fun long enough to appreciate it. Hell, I missed walking. I missed running and dancing and hoping for the future.

All that’s now behind me. I want to run around and look at the water, eat ice cream and lounge in the sun. Wear my new bikini and get a suntan.

The thought of the lake, all that water, twists my stomach into a knot of unease, but I ignore it. I don’t have to even get my feet wet. And I’m over my fear. Well, mostly.

“Hey, Bella!” I get up and peek around the door into the living room. She’s reading a book—something about men and women relationships. “Park picnic with Audrey? What do you say?”

She drops her book, squeals and jumps up. “Oh, yes! I’m dying of heatstroke here. Ice cream!”

I laugh. “If you were dying to go for ice cream, why didn’t you say so?”

She rarely does. Bella is like that—waiting to see what the other person wants, first. It’s endearing in a way, frustrating in others.

“I did drop a hint, didn’t I?”

I roll my eyes. “Drop it harder next time.”

Yeah, the day is looking up.

If only Zane would come, too… I can imagine him dressed only in surfer shorts, his naked chest gleaming with sweat, those defined abs in full display…

Nah, he won’t be there. He works until late at night at the tattoo shop anyway.

But, hey, a girl can dream.

Chapter Three

Zane

My heart hammers. My brain is blank. I’m leaning against the counter in my booth in Damage Control, staring at a text message that arrived on my cell an hour ago. It’s from Matt, Emma’s husband.

‘No change.’

Just two words, but they hit me like bullets. I feel paralyzed. This last therapy was supposed to be great. It has saved people. But not Emma, not my sister.

The doctors will save her. This is Emma, the one who stuck with me through foster care, who took care of me when things got rough, who found me when she turned eighteen and took me in, in her tiny apartment with her noisy roomies. It was home for the very first time.

They have to save her. They will save her. They’ll try another treatment. That’s what Matt told me the other day. He’s holding out hope.

I should be doing the same. I should find my hope before I visit them this weekend, because we’ll have to talk about all this, all that my mind refuses to even consider.