“They wereallthere because of me.”
“No. They were there because Monty needed someone to blame for his prison sentence, and instead of blaming himself, he chose you. Because he was fucking weak and couldn’t take responsibility for his actions.”
And now he was dead. “She got shot because she jumped in front of a bullet forme.” The moment played over in his mind again and again.
“Yeah. I’m pissed at her for that too. It must be a sister thing. But I’m sure she’d tell you that she’d do it again.”
The muscles in Zane’s arms flexed. No. She wasnevergoing to do it again. He wouldn’t allow it.
“She’s gonna wake up, Zane. She’s going to come back to you.”
He looked up at Bonnie’s brother. “Youwanther to do that? Return to me when she wakes up?”
Noah lifted a shoulder. “Doesn’t matter what I want. She’s always been too stubborn to listen to me. But…yeah, I’m glad shehas you. You love her. I can see it. And you got her out of that basement.”
Zane shook his head. “That was all her. She broke out of her own ropes. She fought the guy who attacked her. Then she released me…and stepped in front of a bullet for me. She’s the hero in this story.”
“I’m not surprised. She’s always been tough.” Noah squeezed his shoulder. “I’m getting us both coffees.”
Noah walked out and then it was just him and Bonnie again. He lifted her hand and pressed it to his forehead before closing his eyes.
“Wake up, Bon. Come back to me.”
Suddenly, there was a squeeze of his hand. It was faint. Barely there. Then her voice…
“Zane?”
His head shot up. “Bonnie?”
Her eyes were half open.
And fuck, he was almost scared to breathe in case this wasn’t real and she wasn’t truly awake.
She frowned. “Your face…it’s bruised.”
He could have laughed.Shewas worried abouthim? “I’m fine.”
“What…what happened?”
“What do you remember?”
“We were driving home from The Pit. There was someone following us and—” She gasped, her eyes widening. “The basement.”
“Yeah.” He slipped a lock of hair from her face, the gentleness in his touch in complete contrast to the anger that consumed him. “You found the pocketknife though. You got free, and then you freed me.”
“But the guy came down the stairs with a gun.”
Zane’s back teeth ground together, his gaze going to the bandaging on her shoulder. “Bullet got you. But you’re okay.”
“Is Monty—”
“Dead.”
Her sigh was loud in the otherwise quiet room. “Thank God. And thank you.”
“For what? I didn’t do anything.”
She turned her head and looked at him. “You got us out of there.”
