“Yes. And yes.” His grin showcases a set of perfect white teeth.
I tilt my head and consider his proposal. I mean, would there be a better way to piss off the Unholy Trinity than to start dating the guy they use to deliver stuff to me? “You look way nicer when you smile.”
He licks his lips. “And you’ll look way nicer with those legs wrapped around my neck.”
“Ugh!” I slam the door in his face. Scrubbing the last thirty seconds from my mind, I turn my attention to Betty. She looks like she has two brand-new wheels, and her frame is all straightened out. A sob wells in my throat. Which one of them did this? And why? I haven’t been able to stop beating myself up for leaving her behind since I calmed down later that day, and I hoped for the best—that they would find it in their hearts to send her back to me in the same condition I left her. But by this morning, I’d given up hope and figured they hauled her to the dumpster. Why would they go to the trouble of having her fixed?
Forever imprinted on my memory, West’s voicemail plays in my head. If I weren’t intimately familiar with his voice, I wouldn’t have recognized it. I could hardly decipher most of his drunken rambling, but he kept repeating how sorry he was and how it was all his fault.
My ringing phone jolts me back to the present, and I grab it off the kitchen counter. Not recognizing the number, I debate whether to answer, but curiosity wins out. “Hello?”
“Lily Sloane?”
“This is she.”
“My name is Alison Steadman. I saw your article in Genevieve, and I was wondering if you have half an hour to come in and chat about working here at Ignition?”
I stop breathing, certain I misunderstood. I replay her words in my mind. Holy shit, she’s asking me to come in for an interview at the second-most read magazine in the country.
“Lily?” she says, and I realize how long I’ve been silent.
“Hell yes!” I clap my hand over my mouth and take a deep breath, then manage to answer more calmly. “I mean, I’d love to. When would be good for you?”
“Does today at two work for your schedule?”
On the inside, I’m celebrating like I won the lottery, but I keep my voice even. “It does.”
“Perfect. You know where we are, right?”
I cycle past your building every damn day. “Yes, I’m familiar with the building.”
“Wonderful. Then I’ll see you today at two.”
As soon as she hangs up, I toss my phone onto the couch and squeal at the top of my lungs. Pumping my fists and shaking my hips, I dance around the apartment. Alison Steadman wants to chat about me working there. “Fuck yeah!” I clamp my hand over my mouth. I might be alone, but these walls are thin. I go on dancing but sing quietly to myself.
I might have a new job. Betty is back. And between the severance package I got from my mail room job at Genevieve and what I saved from my last two weeks’ pay at my new job, I have enough for a deposit on an apartment in Brooklyn. It’s tiny but it’s mine, and I move in next week.
Life is finally looking up.
Chapter
Fifty-Five
LILY
Even after two days, I still smile every time I let myself into my new building. I’ve never lived on my own before. It’s so liberating. Taking out my shiny new key, I open the front door, and my heart almost stops beating. I scream, which only makes him smile.
“Zeke? What the hell? How did you even get in here?” He’s sitting at the tiny breakfast bar in my little kitchen, hands casually resting on the countertop.
“I’m a man of many talents, Lily.”
“Yeah? I didn’t figure breaking and entering was one of them.”
“You’d be surprised at the extent of my skill set.”
I put my hands on my hips. “How did you even know I moved here?”
“I made the mistake of not being thorough in my research on you once before, Lily. It cost me everything, and it will never happen again. I know everything there is to know about you now.”
I sure hope not because then you and I could be in a whole heap of danger. “Highly doubtful,” I say instead, crossing my arms over my chest.
The corner of his mouth curls up. “I know you got your pussy waxed two days ago and your nails done later the same afternoon.”
My cheeks burn with mortification, and I hate giving him the satisfaction of knowing he’s right. My new job came with a small advance, and I decided to treat myself to some long overdue grooming. “You’re stalking me now?”
“Keeping a careful eye on you,” he corrects.
Yeah, same thing. “You know there are laws against that kind of thing, right?”
He stands suddenly, and his broad frame seems even bigger than usual in my tiny kitchen. “There isn’t a law in this land that could keep me from you, baby doll.” His declaration is made with such confidence that I’m unable to fight the urge to roll my eyes. Conceited asshole.
Closing my eyes, I rub my forehead. I am so not in the mood for his games. “What the hell are you doing here, Zeke? If you’re looking for —”
He cuts me off midsentence “I’m not here for forgiveness, Lily.”
“You’re not?”
“I’m not looking for redemption. More like retribution.”
My eyes follow his to the counter, and that’s when I see his knife. The one with the worn leather handle. Anxiety bubbles in my stomach. “R-retribution?”
He reaches for the knife, and his huge hand swallows the handle. “Not for me, buttercup.” He drops to his knees at my feet. “For you.”
My heart begins to pound in my ears. What the hell is he doing? Too shocked to form words, I gape at him.
He pulls his shirt off over his head and holds out the knife. I blink at him and recall the sharpness of that blade, the endorphins that raced through my body as it sliced my skin. How he took care of me after. How he told me he loved me. He was vulnerable and honest and everything I now know he isn’t.
Tears prick at my eyes, and I blink them away. “Get out of my apartment.”
“Not until you give me what I need, Lily.”
“And what’s that? You want me to cut you? Will that make you feel better?” What the hell is his end game? Zeke never gives anyone power over him, not even Xander or West.
“I want you to make me feel something, Lily. I’ve spent the last two months completely numb, and I can’t fucking stand it anymore.”
“I’m not cutting you, Zeke.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to. Why would I?”
“I’m already bleeding. Every single second without you is torture. I need you to make it hurt so I can feel something real. Mark me so I can remember that you belonged to me once, even if I didn’t get to keep you.”