Zephyr
“Are you sure you’ll be all right, luv?” Ronan asks. “I can stay here—“
Rolling my eyes, I grab Ronan by the shoulders and march him backwards toward the apartment door. “Go. I’ll be fine.”
In truth, I don’t want Ronan to leave. Our lives have been a whirlwind since putting an end to the Strauss Cartel. Healing took so much of my energy, the first two weeks were nothing but a blur. Then Christmas in Seattle with so many people, I worried I’d forget someone’s name.
And now that it’s January, Ronan is going back to work. Dax promised me he wouldn’t have to take on any close-quarters protective assignments, but I told him that was ridiculous.
“I wouldn’t be alive if Ronan had turned down this job. I trust him. He’s not going to go falling in love with anyone else just because he has to protect them.”
“No, he’s not.” Dax chuckles, a dry sound, almost forced, like he’s not used to laughing at all. “Because even though you don’t need us to fight your battles for you, we’d still all kick his ass.”
The man scared me when I first met him, but Evianna—his wife—declared at Christmas dinner she was “adopting” me as her sister, and through her I’ve learned a lot about Dax as well. Like how much he loves her. How he’s different around her.
“If you’re sure,” Ronan says.
Winding my arms around his neck, I tip my head back so he can kiss me. The man kisses like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. Wild abandon doesn’t even begin to cover it. “I’m sure,” I say when I can’t balance on my tiptoes any longer. “Besides, Evianna has ‘plans’ for us today.”
“Plans?” He pulls on his leather jacket—the new one I bought him for Christmas—and I run my hands down his arms.
“She just said ‘plans.’ Lunch, and then…’plans.’” Shrugging, I take a step back. It’s not even 9:00 a.m., and Evianna won’t be here until 11:30. Being alone? Even for a couple of hours? Not high on my to-do list. I spent so long in that dark, cold box, unable to see or hear anything but my own heartbeat, that being around people—Ronan in particular—is all I want. But I can’t spend the rest of my life glued to his side. It’s not practical. Plus, it makes me feel weak. Needy. I am not needy.
I took care of myself for years. Always alone. Hell, I liked being alone. Or that’s what I’d say when the solitude got to be too much. But for almost a month, we’ve been together nonstop.
Ronan cups my jaw, his thumb skating over my cheek. “Dax will understand if I show up at noon.”
“No. I’m fine. I’ll be…fine.”
Dammit. When did I turn into a crier?
Answer? Five minutes after I woke up in that damn box.
Wrapping my arms around Ronan’s waist, I breathe in his scent. “Go. I have my first call with Austin in a few minutes. Communication protocols, salary expectations, all that boring stuff. I’ll text you when I find out what Evianna has planned. Or at least when I know what time I’ll be home.”
“I like the sound of that,” he says.
“Of communication protocols?” I laugh, my eyes no longer burning. Much.
“Of you comin’ home. To me.”
***
The buzzer sounds promptly at 11:30 a.m. “Come on up,” I say when I verify it’s Evianna waiting in the lobby. “I’ll be ready in a minute.”
Locking my computer in Ronan’s safe—our safe—I pull on my boots and grab my long, red wool coat. I wish I’d taken one of the Xanax Second Sight’s doctor on call prescribed after Ronan rescued me from that old warehouse. But then I’d be loopy, and that might be worse than the nerves making me want to throw up.
When I open the door, Evianna takes a single step forward, arms extended, before she remembers. “Oh, shit. Sorry. I forgot…”
Ever since François caught and tortured me the first time—almost three years ago—I don’t like to be touched. Tugging on my new vegan leather gloves—a gift from Dani at Christmas—I reach for Evianna’s hand and give her fingers a quick squeeze. It’s all I can manage, and I stare down at my boots. Fleece-lined, perfect for the snow, and not at all designed for stealth. I love them.
“Zephyr?” Evianna offers me an encouraging smile. “It’s okay. Dax, Ry, Ripper? No one touches them either, and you saw how we all were at Christmas. Family understands.”
“I didn’t used to be this way.” Slinging my messenger bag across my body, I follow her out of the apartment and lock the door. “I wish I could be…normal.”
“Normal is highly overrated,” she says with a laugh. “I don’t think I told you how Dax and I fell in love, did I?”
The elevator starts its descent, and I shake my head. “Ronan said he was protecting you from someone who wanted your company?”
A shadow darkens Evianna’s brown eyes for a brief second until she blinks hard to chase it away. “Ford was supposed to be the one to shadow me. But after he escorted me to work the first day? That’s when he found out Joey was missing in Turkmenistan. Dax didn’t have anyone else he could spare, so…he showed up to take me home. Said he’d be the one protecting me. We were practically at each others’ throats in the car on the way to my house, I stormed off in a huff, and if Dax hadn’t come to my door to apologize, I’d be dead.”
“Shit.” In the lobby, a man with ruddy skin and short black hair pushes to his feet when we exit the elevator. I freeze, unable to take another step, until Evianna waves the man over.
“Zephyr, this is Vasquez. He wasn’t at Second Sight the day you came in, but he’s worked there for the past three years. He and Ronan worked the night shift protecting me two years ago.”
“Ma’am.” He’s soft spoken, and nods his greeting rather than offering me his hand. “I’m your shadow today. You won’t see me unless I think there’s a threat.”
“A threat?” My voice cracks, and my fingers throb with the memory of Theo shoving needles under all of my nails. Balling my hands into fists, I fight the urge to flee back into the elevator.
“Zephyr? Look at me.” Evianna steps between me and Vasquez. “Dax is the most overprotective man on the planet. It’s been almost two years, and he still insists I have a bodyguard every time I leave the house alone. But after everything that happened…he thought you might feel better if he sent Vasquez with us instead of one of the rent-a-cops.”
“Everything… The cartel…” Those are the only three words I can force out over the lump in my throat.
“They’re gone. Ronan wouldn’t have gone to work if he thought there was any chance Inara and Graham hadn’t found each and every one of the members of the cartel.” Evianna’s warm brown eyes are reassuring in ways I shouldn’t trust. Or never would have before this past month. “We’re safe. If I sent Vasquez home—“
“You could try…” he says with a hint of amusement to his voice.
She rolls her eyes. “Fine. If I called Dax and threatened him with bodily harm unless he sent Vasquez home—“
“I still wouldn’t listen.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. I’m trying to make a point here,” Evianna says with a smile. “Work with me, Diego.”
“Diego?” Their back and forth is oddly calming—like they’re comfortable with one another—and I manage to relax my fingers and take a few deep breaths.
“My first name. No one but Evianna uses it,” Vasquez says. “Well, and my mom.”
My heart rate is mostly normal again, and I brace my hand on the wall, looking from Evianna to Vasquez. “You’re sure this is just a precaution?”
“Yes,” they both say in unison.
After another few seconds, I nod. “Okay. Let’s go, then.“
***
Evianna’s “plans”? Lunch at one of the nicer restaurants in the North End and then a proper introduction to the best cannoli in town and something called taralli—a peppery Italian cookie I didn’t expect to like. Thank goodness we stopped for tea before heading back. I finished half the bag in less than fifteen minutes.
“Are you feeling up for another stop?” she asks a little after two.
I’ve done more today than any day since Ronan rescued me, and I can feel the exhaustion creeping closer. But Evianna’s smile is infectious, and it’s been strange—but nice—to have this chance to forge a friendship. An honest-to-God friendship with another woman.
Wren and I bonded a bit over the holiday. I liked Cara. And Cam. Graham and Quinton. Everyone else… There were too many faces. It wasn’t loud. If anything, parts of the week were almost…silent. Couples broke off in twos and fours, retreating to one of the common rooms in the hotel with roaring fireplaces or up to their rooms. For my first family gathering, it was easier than I’d feared when Ronan had led me up the steps of Dax’s private plane.
“Is it far?” I ask. “The next stop?”
“Close to Second Sight.” Evianna grins. “My offices. I thought you might want to see it. Or maybe I just want to show it off to someone who understands what we do. Plus, if you’re ever in need of a project outside of whatever Austin has in store for you…I’d hire you in a heartbeat.”
Her confidence in me sends heat creeping up my neck, and while I doubt I’ll ever need the work—not with what Austin said he was going to pay me—it’s nice to know I have options.
“We’re not walking there, are we?”
“Oh, God, no.” Evianna pulls out her phone and calls for a car. “Walking to the North End from your place is about all I have in me in a day. Working out? Not my favorite activity.” She waves her hand up and down her body. “You think these curves come from running? They’re hard earned through snickerdoodles, quad-shot mochas, and bacon and egg sandwiches from this little corner market not too far from Dax’s old apartment.”
We laugh, and I tug at one of my sleeves that’s risen up enough to reveal the thin circle of scar tissue around my wrist. Now that I’m no longer on the run, I’ve started venturing down to the gym on the first floor of Ronan’s building—our building—the past few mornings. It’ll be weeks before my strength and fitness are anything close to what they were before François caught me, but despite knowing I’m safe, the drive to keep myself ready to run at any moment? I’m not sure it’ll ever go away.