Dirty For Me (Motor City Royals) (21 page)

It was the way his heart felt like it was getting larger the closer she got, pushing against the walls of his chest, squashing his lungs so he couldn’t breathe. Making everything inside him go tight with longing.

And when she’d looked at him with those knowing dark eyes, the ones that had seen right inside him, down to his soul and hadn’t flinched away, what he’d felt was pain.

Because it was true. He was here to say good-bye.

He’d thought he’d forgotten about her. Forced her entirely from his head. Made her exactly what he’d told Gideon she was—a chick he’d hooked up with for a couple of nights and let go just as easily. A lie he’d believed right up until the point he’d shifted into the downtown apartment his father had instructed him to move into, keeping up the pretense of the obedient son, and unpacked his meager belongings, and discovered a small ball of expensive black fabric at the bottom of one box.

Fabric he’d thought he’d thrown in the trash. Tamara’s tank top.

He’d taken that scrap of fabric out of the box and spread it out over his hands, inhaling the fading scent of her before he’d had a chance to stop himself. Then, angry about the fact he hadn’t thrown it out like he thought he had, he’d tossed it directly into the wastebasket.

Yet no matter how many times he threw it away, somehow he ended up fishing it back out again and putting it back in his pocket. Where it was now, the cotton pressing against his palm, all warm and soft. Like a fucking security blanket.

He didn’t know what was wrong with him. And that was why he was here, risking her safety, which was a damn stupid thing to do when his father was having him tailed everywhere he went. But he’d needed to do something to get her out of his head and if that meant going to see her one last time, then he had to. He couldn’t afford any distractions from what he had to do, not now.

So of course he was here to say good-bye. But he didn’t want to say it quite yet so he ignored the question. “You’re looking beautiful tonight, pretty girl. What’s the occasion?”

She had her arms folded over her chest, the sequined bodice of her dress sparkling under the streetlights. “It’s a surprise party. For me.”

“Oh? Is it your birthday or something?”

Slowly she shook her head. “I’m getting engaged tonight.”

It felt like she’d just kicked him straight in the nuts and for a second all he could do was look at her.

Fuck, that’s right. She’d said “soon.” And soon was apparently now, tonight.

Yet for all that, he found himself struggling to get a breath. “Engaged?” he echoed like a goddamn parrot.

She turned her head, looking away, shifting on her long legs, the sequins on her dress glittering like tiny stars. For a moment she looked exactly like fucking Cinderella, beautiful and innocent, and completely untouchable, especially by the likes of him.

Except, he knew she wasn’t untouchable. And he knew she wasn’t Cinderella. No matter how beautiful and perfect she was on the outside, she had her darkness inside. A darkness she showed to nobody but him.

A hungry, possessive part of him growled in satisfaction at the thought. A part that wanted to leap on her now, drag her down onto the grass beside the car and let that darkness out to play with his. To glory in it one more time.

Except he wasn’t here for that, was he?

“I told you, remember? My dad gave me a heads-up a couple of weeks ago that my mom was throwing me a surprise party where my boyfriend was going to propose,” she said quietly. “And I’m going to say yes.”

“Why the fuck would you do that?” The question came out harsh, his tone probably revealing way too much, but he didn’t take it back. “I thought you didn’t love him.”

“I don’t. But it’s the right thing to do.”

Familiar anger was coiling inside him, an anger that seemed completely out of proportion to what was happening. Because Tamara wasn’t his girlfriend. They’d had sex a few times, had shared a few secrets, but nothing major. So why the hell he should be getting so pissed about her wanting to get married was ridiculous. He didn’t understand it.

“What do you mean ‘the right thing to do’?” he demanded, unable to help himself.

She stared at him, the look on her face unreadable. “I mean, it’s the next logical step for me. I have a great job and a secure career path. Robert comes from a good family and my mom and dad like him. There’s no reason not to.”

Yet the words sounded . . . off. As if she was repeating something someone had told her.

Zee clenched his fists in the pockets of his jeans, trying to ignore the urge to reach out and touch her. Because he’d told himself before he’d gotten here that he wouldn’t. A good-bye, that’s all this was. Yet now she’d gone and changed things with this fucking “engaged” bullshit.

Struggling to rein in his anger, he forced out, “Okay, then. If that’s what you want.”

Tamara looked down at the ground, hugging herself as if she was cold. “It’s . . . it’s not what I want.” Her voice sounded thin and uncertain, a needle sliding beneath his skin. “I don’t want to marry him, Zee. I don’t.”

He’d taken a step toward her before he could stop himself. “Then don’t. Just fucking don’t.”

“I have to.” Her head came up, her eyes black in the darkness. “I have to move on. And this is the only way I can do it. I mean, how else can I ever make it up to my parents?”

Oh Jesus.

He didn’t need to ask her what she was talking about. He knew. It slid the needle deeper, a sharp spear of pain reaching all the way down to his soul.

“This is about your brother, right?”

Her face had gone curiously blank. “Yes.”

“You don’t owe them a thing, Tamara,” he said fiercely, forcefully. “Not a single, goddamn thing. His death wasn’t your fault. It was theirs. They didn’t get him the treatment he needed. They didn’t listen to you when you told them you needed help. They put you into that situation. It’s all on them.”

“Maybe. But that doesn’t change the fact that I pulled the trigger. I killed him. I have to pay my debt somehow and this is it. This is what I have to do. They covered it up—did you know that? Mom and Dad made it look like suicide. They didn’t want the mental illness stigma and they didn’t want me to go to jail.” Her arms dropped to her sides, her fingers curling into fists like his were. “They erased what I did entirely.” There was a note in her voice that he knew, a note that was as familiar to him as his own name. Rage. “So you tell me, how else am I supposed to make what I did better? How else am I supposed to pay my
fucking
debt?”

Zee took another step toward her, coming closer. The night air carried the sweet smell of her scent and the streetlight made her skin look so pale and smooth and perfect. It wasn’t that which drew him this time, but the helpless rage in her voice and the gleam of it in her eyes. The note of pain that somehow drove that needle deeper into his heart.

“You don’t have to pay any damn debt.” Fuck, he wanted to take her in his arms, hold her. Take away the hurt. “Like I said, it’s not your fault.”

But she only stared at him. “That’s rich coming from you. I suppose you being here now to say good-bye isn’t part of the debt you have to pay either?”

He stilled. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, why else are you here? I presume you didn’t come to see me just to tell me Will’s death wasn’t my fault.”

She saw so much. Too much. “Yeah, okay. I did come to say good-bye since we didn’t get to say it properly last time. But that’s got nothing to do with any debt.”

Her mouth had gone tight, her knuckles white where they gripped her upper arms. She didn’t speak, only stared at him.

The tension between them now had changed and he didn’t understand it. She was looking at him like she wanted something from him, something he couldn’t figure out.

His heart had gone tight, the needle of pain driving deeper and deeper.

“Tamara,” he said thickly. “Don’t—”

“I don’t want to say good-bye, Zee.” There was desperation in her voice now, a raw, naked emotion that made him feel like she was stripping him bare. “I don’t want to get engaged to Robert and I don’t want to say good-bye to you.” Her eyes were black in the night. “What I want is to get in your car and just . . . go.”

“Go?” he demanded roughly. “Go with me where?”

Her throat moved. “Anywhere. I don’t care. I just . . . want to be with you.”

Now she hadn’t just kicked him in the nuts, she’d flat out KO’d him completely. It made him angry for reasons he didn’t understand. As if it wasn’t him she wanted, but only a reason to escape. “What? You think running away is the answer? That you can just walk away from shit you don’t like?”

“No, that’s not what—”

“Because you can’t, Tamara. Believe me, I know all about it. No matter how fast you run, the past will always catch up.”

“Well, maybe it’s time your dad’s past caught up with him.” She took a step toward him and this time there was no mistaking the burning look on her face. Hope. “Do you know he’s trying to run for mayor? And that my dad made a massive pledge to his campaign? All I need to do is convince Dad that Chase is shady and he’ll withdraw the funds. I’m sure he’ll also spread it around among the business community, too, which’ll totally kill any chance Chase has of any kind of political office.”

Zee found himself standing utterly motionless, staring at her. No, it couldn’t be that simple. He hadn’t known about his father’s political aims, in fact he’d deliberately tried not to think of his father at all while he’d been flying under the radar. But if what she’d said was true . . .

If she was wrong, fuck, everyone would pay. And it would be his fault.

Christ, she was so near, the distance between them was so small. All he’d have to do is take one more step and he could pull her into his arms. Yet it may as well have been the Grand Canyon for all the good that did him.

He’d believed in a woman before and made the wrong call, and he’d lost everything. He wasn’t going to do that again. There was only one path before him now and he had to walk it to the end. It was the only way any of them could ever be free.

Zee ignored the thought, went to the calm, quiet space in his head that he went to before a fight. Where he was cold and focused and his goddamn emotions didn’t screw with him. “No,” he said, his voice coming out sounding flat.

She blinked. “No what?”

“No to everything. I’m not fucking risking it, and neither are you.”

“Zee—”

“I said no. There’s only one way to keep you safe and that’s for you to walk away. So that’s what you’re gonna do, understand me?” Something in his head raged and shouted, but he tuned it out. Hardened his heart against the needle that tried to pierce it. “Go back to your safe little life, pretty girl. Marry your boyfriend. Give him kids, whatever. Just don’t, whatever you do, come anywhere near me ever again.”

She flinched as if he’d slapped her, that burning emotion in her face slowly dying. Making him feel as if he’d just dropped weed killer all over a beautiful flower. “Okay,” she said in a brittle voice. “I get it. But don’t pretend you’re doing this for me, Zee, let’s be honest. The only person you’re protecting is yourself.”

The coiling anger tightened. “Like you’d know the first fucking thing about it.”

All the hope had died out of her face, her expression shuttered. She looked small and cold and alone, and no matter how hard he tried not to feel it, his chest ached like someone had smashed him straight in the center of it. “Of course I know,” she said quietly. “You think you don’t deserve it, do you? You think you don’t deserve anything better, anything more.”

He couldn’t speak all of a sudden, every part of him wanting to deny it. Tell her she was wrong, that it wasn’t about him and what he did and didn’t deserve, but the people he was trying to save.

“No,” he forced out. “It’s got nothing to do with that.”

The look in her eyes was bleak. “Really? But maybe you’re right. Maybe I don’t deserve to have anything either.”

“What the fuck do you mean by that?” The cold calm around him felt almost as brittle as the sound of her voice. As if it was going to shatter at any moment. “You deserve everything.”

“But apparently not the chance of something real with you.”

“Jesus Christ. How many times do I have to say it? I can’t—”

“I know, believe me, I get it.” She gave a little shiver and looked away. “I did want to run away. I did want to escape. And you’re right about that, too, we can’t escape the past. We don’t deserve to. We don’t get to have anything more than the debts we have to pay.” She sounded like she was talking to herself. “Maybe we never stop paying. I guess that’s justice after all.”

“Tamara—”

“It’s okay, Zee.” She glanced back at him and there was something in her eyes that cracked his cold calm like a beer bottle dropped on a concrete floor. “I killed my own brother. I don’t deserve a thing.”

Every cell in his body screamed at him to go to her, touch her. Tell her she was wrong, that she deserved everything good this world could give her. But how could he?

Going after his father, ending him, that was his debt. He’d tried to make amends for Madison’s death with the paltry life he’d built for himself, giving back the way she’d told him he could, making a difference to people, improving things. But in the end, it wasn’t enough. Life demanded more.