Rapidly composing my features, before she guesses where my head went to, and runs away screaming from the crazy dude daydreaming of serenading her on the beach, I drape my arms on top of my Fender and smile. “Did you genuinely like it?”
“Like it?” Her eyebrows climb to her hairline. “I absolutely loved it. I can’t believe you wrote that for me. Thank you so much. It’s the best birthday present anyone’s ever given me.”
“While that makes me unbelievably happy, I’m seriously hoping that’s not true.”
A look of abject sorrow sweeps over her face, and I know she’s telling the truth. Fuck. I hate that her background seems as lacking as mine. “I’ve got another present for you,” I blurt, totally improvising. I just want to put a smile back on her face.
“You do?”
Removing my guitar, I rest it carefully beside the wall and tentatively open my arms. My heart is somersaulting in my chest, and my stomach roils with nerves. The look on her face is priceless. She looks half mesmerized, half terrified, and I can relate. “Everyone deserves a hug on their birthday. Come here.” She looks anxiously at me, biting down on her lower lip in a totally sexy way. “I don’t bite, Zeta. It’s a hug. That’s all.”
Her chest inflates, and an exuberant smile creeps over her lips as she scoots over, softly laying her head on my chest. My arms go around her as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. When her hands slip around my waist, encircling my back, a little sigh of contentment escapes my mouth before I can stop it. I rest my chin on top of her head, savoring the warmth of her body flush against mine.
If there were awards for best hugger, Zeta would win, hands down. Her hold on me is firm yet tender, and as she slowly runs her hand up and down my spine, I allow myself to fall.
My heart is ricocheting around my chest like it’s dancing a tango. With her ear pressed so close, I’m sure she’s aware of every overactive beat, but I don’t care. She’s finally in my arms, and it’s everything I’ve been dreaming about.
“Aw, isn’t this cute.” Valeria’s sneering comment brings me harshly back down to Earth. Lopez, Torres, Sam, Camila, and Sofia stand over us, and I fucking hate this damn place and the complete lack of privacy. Zeta slowly eases off me, and I want to ram my fist into Lopez’s face and wipe that smug, condescending look from it. Zeta climbs to her feet, and I follow suit. “Puppy love at its finest,” Valeria adds in a derogatory tone.
“Don’t you have places to be and people to screw,” Zeta retorts.
Lopez chuckles. “You’ve got some fire in your belly, baby doll.”
“Do. Not. Call me that.” Zeta glares at him. “I’m not your baby or your baby doll or your anything.”
His eyes move slowly over her body, and my hands ball up at my sides. A familiar surge of anger creeps up on me, and I know I won’t be able to keep it in check if that douche keeps leering at my girl.
“How ’bout you and me take this someplace else, and I’ll give you a birthday present you’ll never forget.” Thrusting his hips forward, Lopez grabs hold of his crotch, making sure the offer is crystal clear. Zeta glances up at me, and I tell her with my eyes that it wasn’t me. I would never tell that asshole anything about her.
“Are you for fucking real right now?” Valeria fumes, slamming her hands into Lopez’s chest.
“Get lost, V,” Lopez says, not taking his eyes off Zeta. “I never promised you exclusivity.”
A cunning gleam flickers in Valeria’s eye as she spins around, facing me. Before I’ve had the chance to consider her next move, she’s on top of me, her ugly mouth slanting against mine while she presses her tits into my chest.
I push her off me the same time Zeta grabs hold of the back of her polo shirt. Losing her balance, Valeria’s arms flail about as she falls back, taking Zeta with her. Zeta’s head slams into the ground with an audible thud as she lands first with Valeria sprawled on top of her.
Horror washes over me like a bucket of cold water. “Get the fuck off her!” I roar, grabbing Valeria by the wrists and pulling her off Zeta. I drop to my knees beside her, but she’s unconscious, and an icy hand has a vise grip on my heart. “Zeta.” I place my hands on her cheeks, leaning down close to her ear. “Zeta, baby, can you hear me?”
Lopez crouches over her from behind. “Shit, dude, is she okay?”
“What the fuck does it look like!” I yell. “This is all your fucking fault. Just leave her the fuck alone!”
“Step aside.” Powell’s voice is commanding, and the assembled crowd parts, letting her and Price through. Powell kneels beside me, pressing her finger to Zeta’s neck before placing her palm over her forehead. “Get hold of Carina. Tell her to bring her first aid kit,” she instructs Price. He walks off with his mouth pressed to his walkie-talkie, and a few minutes later, the nurse comes rushing into the room.
“I need some space,” she says, pointedly looking at me. Price and Watson have already cleared the room, escorting everyone else back to the pods, where they’re on lockdown, but I begged Powell to let me stay, and surprisingly, none of them argued with me.
“Ryder. Let Carina check her out.” Powell pulls me to my feet, pushing me back a little as I watch the nurse check Zeta’s vitals.
“She might have a concussion. I’d like to keep her in the infirmary overnight so I can watch over her.”
“Should we organize an ambulance?” Powell asks, causing shards of terror to run riot inside me.
Carina shakes her head. “I don’t think it’s necessary, but if anything changes, I’ll let you know.”
I’m forced to watch as guards slide Zeta onto a stretcher and carry her out of the room. I begged Powell to let me sit with her, but there’s only so many times she can bend the rules for me. She’s adamant that I need to return to my cell, but she promises to stop by later to update me on Zeta’s condition.
Nighttime has fallen, and there’s still no word. I’m going out of my mind with worry. Grabbing clumps of my hair, I pace back and forth across the tiny cell, grateful we’re not at full capacity right now and that I have my own space. I’ve had to share a cell countless times in the past, and it’s not always a pleasant experience. Sometimes, having company is nice, provided the guy isn’t a total asshole, but other times, like now, I’m glad there’s no one else in this room to witness me falling apart.
