“Work,” Zach said.
She hefted him across the room. “You were not at the ranch at midnight.”
When he slumped onto the couch, she stretched her shoulders against the ache. He was bigger than she thought. Hauling him inside was a chore she didn’t welcome at one in the morning.
“Other work, angel,” Zach said as his head fell back against the cushion.
That did it. The worry she’d been carrying fizzled away. In its place, white-hot rage flamed up, ready to burn her alive.
“Are you telling me that not only did you drive here drunk from who knows where, but you’re back doing all the things that got you locked up before?”
Zach’s head was still resting back, and he didn’t open his eyes as he chuckled. “I’m statistically accurate. You’re the only one who thought this time would be different.”
“Are you kidding me?” She still couldn’t process what was right in front of her.
“You shouldn’t be surprised. Do you remember how we met?”
Her breaths were coming quicker, and her volume rose to meet the occasion. “Do you remember how far we’ve come?”
How dare he throw her hope in her face? After all she’d done to try to make it easier for him to get on the straight and narrow, he repaid her by taking advantage of her generosity.
She wanted to scream. She wanted to shake him and beg him to see the way things could be if he would only listen. She’d hurt him with her words, but he’d crossed a huge line before even giving her a chance to apologize.
Lauren propped her hands on her hips. “Where did you get the whiskey?”
“It was a get-out-of-prison gift.”
“Ha! What is this, a bridal shower?”
Zach slowly lifted his head and blinked until there was almost a hint of coherence in his eyes. “I haven’t had a drink in three years. I deserved one.”
“You don’t smell like one drink, and the fact that you can barely hold your head up says you’ve been greatly overserved.”
Zach crossed his arms over his chest, still relaxing on her couch like he didn’t have a care in the world. “I serve myself, angel.”
Ugh. That blind arrogance grated on her nerves. How could he be so proud of his mistakes? “You’re doing yourself a disservice right now. How are you going to go to work at the ranch in the morning like this?”
“I’m not going. I don’t need that job.”
His head fell back again, and his breaths became steady. All she could do was stare at him.
She slowly lowered onto the couch, watching as he sat unmoving. The lines on his face were gone, and he actually looked peaceful in sleep.
Maybe that’s what he needed. Peace. The worries he carried were all made up—left over from a lifetime of judgment. He’d been in the darkness so long that he truly believed he belonged there. He could have a different life, but it would take work. His problem was that he didn’t think it was possible.
She recalled some of the things she’d learned in psychology studies and even from counseling she’d received herself. How could she reach him?
Before she’d formulated a plan, Zach’s head rolled toward her. His eyes opened slowly, chocolate irises blending with dark pupils. In a low voice that brushed over her, he whispered, “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Lauren’s skin flashed hot, then cold. Oh no. What was he saying? She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t hear anything over the pounding of her heart.
“You actually care,” he said, closing his eyes briefly. “Even when you’re mad at me. You’re an angel of light, but everything else is darkness.”
He needed to stop talking, or she was going to cry again. “I don’t feel like it. I hurt you, and I’m so sorry.”
A hot breath huffed out of his nose as he looked her up and down. His head never moved, but his eyes followed every inch of her from head to toe and then back up. “I know you are, but it’s okay to hate me.”
With a grunt, Zach lifted his head and sat forward. “I need to get back to the house.”
