The Cabin

“Mr. Maddox, we’ll probably have additional questions in the next few days. Standard stuff. Just crossing all the Ts.”

I nodded at the deputy and stood as Zoe pulled on her jacket. She looked at the silver-haired man. “Can I have a few minutes alone with Gray?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Do you feel safe?”

She looked surprised. Shocked, even. “Of course I feel safe. He… he saved me.”

The deputy nodded. “Just a few minutes. We need to get down the mountain. We have other business to attend to.”

Everyone filed outside, and Leslie squeezed Zoe’s hand before she followed, closing the door behind her.

I couldn’t believe this was happening. Not like this. Not the way it went down. If I hadn’t gone down to the road and tripped the alarm. If the search party had arrived an hour earlier. Or even if they hadn’t, if we’d had longer to talk about things, if I could have made her understand. If… if… if…

“I’m sorry.”

Her lips tightened at my apology. “Don’t be. I was going to thank you, and I was going to ask you to give me a little time to process everything.” She shook her head, another tear spilling with the gesture. I longed to brush it away. “Too much happened too soon, and I just need to think and deal with… everything. I need to see Mom before…”

“I can come with you. I—”

She held up her hands, like she was defending herself from the offer. “No. Please. Not yet.”

“Zoe, please—”

Meow-eek.

Zoe sighed, a deep shuddering exhale, and turned to the kitten sitting on the arm of the couch. She picked the little furball up and kissed his nose. “Be good.” She cuddled him until he began to squirm before sitting him down.

Scratching Maggie’s head, she bent down and gave her a kiss too. When she stepped toward me, my breath lodged in my lungs. I was numb and on fire at once.

Running her fingers through my beard, she raised onto tiptoes and pressed her lips to mine. “I’m going to miss you most of all.”

It was goodbye.

She was too kind to say it, but it was a goodbye all the same. I’d broken the fragile trust she’d extended toward me, and we had been given no time to reestablish it.

When she opened the door, I said, “I love you.”

She smiled and nodded. “I love you too.”

Maggie whined. Go sat on the arm of the chair, the stillest I’d ever seen him.

Zoe opened the door. Closed it.

In the space of a few minutes, she was gone.





CHAPTER SEVENTEEN


Zoe


Hours later, I was still frozen, even while standing under the warm L.A. sun.

After stopping at my little cabin to collect a single bag of my things, I’d been taken to the police station where I’d answered a hundred new questions.

No… Gray hadn’t hurt me.

No… He hadn’t forced me to stay.

Over and over again, I answered the same questions asked in different ways, explaining how he’d saved me, took care of me, tended my wounds.

Made me laugh.

Brought me back to life.

Healed me in so many ways.

Accepted me for who I was.

Taught me to love.

Unleashed the goddess inside me. The part of me I thought would never see the light of day.

I left out all those personal parts, but from the glances everyone threw to each other around me, they already assumed that I’d slept with him. And I didn’t care. But when I heard terms like Stockholm Syndrome tossed around, it pissed me off and I’d quickly disabused them of that notion.

“Gray Maddox is a good man,” I insisted.

Even though he’d been silently watching me for weeks — I left that part out too. I shivered. I still didn’t know how I felt about that, and with the suddenness of all that had happened, I hadn’t had time to process it all.

On the plane ride home, I’d told Leslie every single detail about my time with Gray, leaving out the rape. That story would have to come later. She’d held my hand as I cried. But the minute I was in California, it had been crazy, and I’d pushed my heartbreak to the back so I could deal with one thing at a time.

The media had latched onto the story and hounded my every move. A porn queen dying of an overdose in response to the grief of her missing daughter was apparently big news. I still wasn’t certain if the tabloids were happy or sad I’d been found. I got the feeling they’d been planning a “double funeral” spread. A small part of me wished I hadn’t disappointed them.

“Are you ready?”

I squeezed Leslie’s hand and stepped out of the car, pulling my bag higher on my shoulder. The immediate rush of reporters turned my stomach.

“Is your mother still alive?”

“Where have you been?”

“Were you kidnapped?”

“Talk to us, Zoe. The people want to know.”

I ignored them all, walking up the hospital’s concrete sidewalk with as much grace and dignity as I was capable of.

“Did Gray Maddox hurt you?”

That was it.

I whirled on the reporter who had tossed that one out. It was a balding older man with dollar signs in his eyes. “Gray Maddox saved me.” In every way a person could be saved. “If it wasn’t for him, I’d be dead right now, and I’m forever grateful for his kindness.”

The man’s eyes narrowed as he latched onto the story. “Did he take advantage of you?”

Leslie pulled on my arm. “Ignore him,” she hissed. “You’ve said enough. You don’t owe them anything.”

She was right, but I couldn’t let it go. “He was kind to me.”

The man smirked, like he was imagining what “kind” meant. “Were you afraid being alone so many days with a killer?”

I gasped, and Leslie tugged at me again, yanking harder this time. I turned away from the cameras, the terrible reporters, and rushed to the hospital entrance.

“Did you know Gray Maddox was a killer?”

“Zoe, are you going to follow in your mother’s footsteps?”

The hospital door closed behind me, cutting off the additional questions. Leslie squeezed my arm tighter. “I’m sorry, Zoe.”

I leaned into her comfort. “Me too. I shouldn’t have stopped. Shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s almost impossible not to,” she assured me. “They goad until nearly everyone snaps.”

I turned to face her fully. “He’s not a killer.”

Sympathy oozed from her expression. “Yes, he is, Zoe. But not all killing is wrong. He stands in the gray area of it. Just because he wasn’t guilty doesn’t make him innocent.”

Gray.

My heart squeezed at the word.

“That is how the media will see it,” she went on, in full public relations mode now, “and if you attempt to fight it, they will fight back, then their claims of Stockholm Syndrome and all that shit will seem more plausible.”

Yes. She was right. I nodded. “I just won’t speak to them again.”

Leslie gave me a tight smile. “Good. In a day or so, something else will happen, and they’ll turn their noses in that direction.”

“And in the meantime, I’m giving those assholes my attention instead of being with Mom.”

Leslie hooked her arm through mine and began dragging me down the hall. “Yes. Your mom. Are you ready?”