Mase left me, I presumed to go watch from whatever room they had the monitors in. I pushed on the door handle and went inside.
Zane watched as I closed the door behind me, the lock clicking into place loud in the silence. I leant against it, the metal cool at my back.
I didn’t know what I’d expected, but he looked exactly the same as the last time I’d seen him. If anything, he looked healthier. I guess not being able to use dark magic had its benefits.
My gaze drifted lower; the magic-dampening shackles a stark reminder of why he was here. WhyIwas here.
I thought I’d feel angrier than this. Thought once I came face to face with him, I’d struggle to contain my temper, but the overwhelming emotion flooding my body was sadness. How had it come to this?
The man who took me in was laid-back, charismatic, loyal to a fault, and had bent over backwards to help me when I’d needed him. He was also one of the strongest witches I knew but respected his magic like I never had.
And yet he’d used it in the worst of ways to protect his family.
Would I do the same? Even if it put innocent people in danger?
I loved my family fiercely, but they’d disown me if I ever used black magic to alter someone’s memory like Zane had mine.
They’d shipped me up here for something far less sinister.
“Are you going to stand there all day, or are you going to ask me what you came here to ask me?” Zane sounded resigned, and his shoulders sagged as he leant back against his chair. Like I was an inconvenience.
Anger sparked inside me.
Ahh, there it is.
I stalked over to the table, rested my hands on it, and loomed over him. “How could you?” I hissed. “How could you do that to me? Wipe my fucking memory, and then have the nerve to look me in the eye the next day?”
“I’m sorry.” He covered his face with his hands for a moment before letting them drop to his lap. “They threatened my family, Nick.” His voice cracked, the raw emotion in his eyes pulling at my heart. “What would you have done?”
Fuck.
As hard as I tried to hold on to my anger, seeing the anguish on his face drained it away, leaving me frustrated. How was I supposed to feel now? I ran my hands through my hair, tugging at the strands and trying to sort out my jumbled mess of thoughts.
I was never going to know how it felt to be in his position, so maybe I should give up trying to understand why he did what he did instead of going to the police. Otherwise, we’d just go round and round in circles.
“Why did you sign over the bar to me?” I asked instead. “Was it guilt?”
He looked away and I figured I had my answer.
“Maybe that was part of it,” he said eventually, toying with the edge of his cuffs. His gaze flicked to the leather cuff on my own wrist, and I tensed, but the slight head shake told me he wasn’t about to share my secret. “You also know my club inside out. I don’t trust anyone to take over running it except you.” He sighed again. “I have no idea how long I’ll be in here, and you know as well as I do that Midnight needs to open again soon.”
He was right.
On both counts.
“I should hate you,” I murmured.
“You should.”
We both knew I didn’t.
I hated what he’d done, but as much as I wished he’d made different choices, Zane was my friend, and I believed he’d made the only choice he thought he could to protect his family.
Would it be quite so easy to justify his actions if someone had died? Probably not. I didn’t count Tombs in that as he’d deserved to fucking die after what he’d done.
Zane’s punishment might be severe. I had no idea what they were going to do to him, but if they took his magic…fuck, it’d kill him. I understood all too well how it felt to have all that potential inside thrumming through your veins and not be able to let any of it out.
I was a strong level two—I could tattoo a spell or a symbol on my skin and use it with a thought or a touch—but Zane was stronger than me. To take that away would be losing a huge part of himself.
