“Do you think I’m blind?” Frankie finally asked. I knew where he was going with this, but I kept my mouth shut. “You think I don’t see the way you both look at each other?” He leaned forward then, bracing his forearms on his upper thighs, his stare impenetrable. “I heard her sing to you when you were unconscious, stood in the doorway and listened. I watched as she held your hand, saw her fall asleep kneeling beside your bed, her head resting on the mattress, her hand in yours.” He paused as if he wanted that to sink in. “I knew in that moment that things were a lot more complicated than they seemed. I knew when you woke up and saw her sitting there, things would change.” He exhaled, but this time it sounded weary, as if he were tired. “Maybe I should’ve let her leave before you woke up. Maybe things wouldn’t be so complicated like they are now.”
I didn’t move, didn’t speak as I stared at him. I wasn’t surprised he knew this would’ve been the outcome. We might be two different people, but we thought the same, just as strong, just as powerful. It was as if we were the same person in two different bodies.
“Because in the end, Wilder, you know you can’t keep her.”
Like fuck I couldn’t.
The very thought of Zoey leaving—even if it was the right thing to do—had my entire body tightening painfully. I gnashed my teeth together.
“Shit, Wilder. Look at you. The very mention of her leaving has you ready to fucking destroy something.” He shook his head slowly.
I didn’t even try to deny it. I didn’t want to. I rolled my head around on my neck. “Dom and Cullen have their women,” I said low, cutting a hard glance back at my brother.
“Yeah, but look at the shit they went through, put us through, and risked to have those women.”
I clenched my teeth together so tightly my jaw ached.
He gave me this expression that said I was fucking insane. I wanted to call his ass out for the shit he went through with Nadja, the “one who got away.” He tried to act like he was over it, past it, but we all knew that was furthest from the truth. But I didn’t want to kick below the belt, so I kept my damn mouth shut on the subject.
“You’ve known her like a fucking week, and you’re what, already in love with her?”
I didn’t need to explain myself to anyone, least of all Frankie. “Dom knew Amelia a fucking hot minute before he claimed her.”
Frankie snorted, and I heard his unspoken words. He thought Dom was fucking insane too.
He could obviously see on my face that I didn’t care what anyone thought. He knew I wasn’t going to tell him shit, because he started running his mouth again.
“I meant what I said when I told her that once you were better, I’d take her wherever she needs to go. She can’t stay here, Wilder. We have enough shit we are dealing with, enough fucking things we should focus on. When Dom then Cullen found their females, shit got turned all upside down. We have jobs that need panned. We don’t have time for everyone to be fucking getting their dicks wet—”
“Shut the fuck up, Frankie,” I growled. “Don’t talk about Zoey that way.”
Frankie rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything else.
I leaned forward, taking on the same position as him, with my forearms resting on my upper thighs, my face a hard mask. “She’s not going fucking anywhere, Frankie. You leave Zoey alone. She’s mine.” He had the same stoic expression I was probably wearing, and for long moments, he said nothing. But then a slow smirk formed across his lips, and he lifted up his hands in surrender.
“You are all fucking crazy as shit.” He stood and shook his head.
I didn’t bother bringing up her, the one woman who’d gotten away, the one female Frankie didn’t talk about, because I knew it hurt him. And I didn’t want to hurt him. But I knew if she came back into his life, he’d go down the fucking rabbit hole just like the rest of us.
But in the end, Frankie wouldn’t fight me on this. He might’ve given Dom and Cullen shit, but he kept his mouth shut with me.
The thing was, what I wanted with Zoey was pretty damn final, and because of that, telling her that I already saw her as mine could very well be the catalyst that pushed her away.
Chapter Fifteen
Zoey
I ran my hand over the foggy mirror, wiping off the condensation on the glass and staring at a blurry visage of myself. My dark hair was damp from the shower I’d just taken, hanging over my shoulders, my skin looking pale under the dim lighting.
Wilder was with his brothers, so I came into the bathroom to get ready for bed... and to do a lot of thinking. Over the last week, how I felt for him started to consume me in an unnatural way. I wanted to embrace it, let it make me feel like I truly found something that could be mine.
I’d never felt this kind of consumption before, not for a person, not for anything in my life. Maybe that was why I ran, bouncing from one town to the next, never setting up roots, because I was too afraid of the possibilities. I turned my head and looked at the closed door, knowing Wilder wasn’t in the room, but still being able to picture him on the bed, his big body dwarfing the full-sized mattress.
My emotions for him scared me, and even if they did excite me, it was that fear that had me keeping my distance, that had me realizing I couldn’t stay here any longer.
It had been that curiosity, the fact that I felt this connection, being drawn to Wilder in a way I’d never been drawn to anything or anyone before, that made up my resolve. And so I told myself I stayed to make sure he survived, that this had to be something special.
And he had survived, was getting stronger by the day.
It was time for me to go before I fully let myself be immersed in everything that was Wilder.
I braced my hands on the basin of the sink and leaned forward slightly, exhaling, my eyes closed, this conflicting war inside me making me so exhausted. I didn’t want to fight it. I just wanted to embrace what I felt, but it went against my nature. It went against everything I’d ever known.
I finished getting dressed, putting on the terrycloth shorts and another plain shirt Amelia had given me, since she was always the one handing me the items. I picked at them, exhaling, just wanting to go to bed, because my body was wiped, yet my mind was wide awake.
I opened the door and shut off the light, stepping into the room and stilling when I saw Wilder sitting on the edge of the bed. He had his elbows resting on his knees, his big upper body hunched forward slightly, his head turned in my direction as he looked at me.
For a moment, I just stood there, my heart racing as we stared at each other. I was reacting so strangely because of what I’d just been thinking about. I felt how awkward I was in this moment. I cared about Wilder so much it scared me enough that I knew I had to go, because if I didn’t, things might get too deep.
And going too deep could get you drowned.
If I gave myself over to Wilder completely, then what? Things didn’t last forever; they couldn’t. That was made abundantly clear to me throughout my whole life. It had been my mother who proved that to me first, with her constant neglect, her presence and attention only gifted to me when she was smashed. She gave me my first taste of loneliness, told me without saying it that I couldn’t count on anyone but myself.