Locked and Loaded (Bullet, #6) Page 10

  And that definitely explained her more hesitant nature.

  Her daughter was fucking adorable. This meant he had competition—and Jen was already mega-pissed at him. Would he be able to win her back? Keep her?

  Should he just give up now?

  What was washing over him, though, was a revelation...that he had been the cause of all their breakups and fighting all along. That made him sad and angry with himself. He’d known he’d been part of it—a catalyst for a good many spats—but he was beginning to accept that he was the main reason...because tonight’s incident wasn’t unlike many other situations in the past. What sucked most about that realization was that, yeah, maybe it could push him in the right direction, but it also made him want to drown in the toxic sea created by the self-loathing he already experienced on a day-to-day basis.

  It fed itself.

  He took a sip of the coffee Jen had handed him. She was tousling little Zoe’s hair while sitting down at the end of the small table so that Zoe was diagonal from both of them. As much as Zane was enjoying watching Jen’s daughter, he knew the two of them had a long, hard conversation ahead of them.

  And he might as well start...get the hard stuff out of the way. “Jen, I’m really sorry. I—”

  Jennifer held up her hand, palm out, signaling Zane to halt. “Stop right there, Zane. I’ve heard this apology a thousand times before and, frankly, I don’t want to listen to it anymore.”

  He blinked. “Fair enough. But I don’t think it would be cool for me to just tell you to fuck off. You don’t deserve that shit, Jen.”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “I agree with you there, Zane. One-hundred percent. I don’t deserve it all at. I have never deserved to be treated the way you treat me...which is why we’re done. For good. D-O-N-E. Done.”

  “Aw, don’t say that, Jen. We just barely got back together.”

  “Exactly.” She took a sip of her coffee. Zane was impressed, because pure vitriol was pouring out of her mouth, but her words were calm, almost soothing, and he knew that to be her daughter’s influence. “Which is why it’s so despicable that you would be sleeping with someone else when you knew you’d be on a date with me later. Seriously, Zane. What the hell is wrong with you?”

  Okay...so maybe Zane was despicable and he felt awful, but he didn’t need to hear it from her too. He heard all that shit enough in his own damn head. Drawing in a long slow breath, he took a few seconds to get his thoughts straight. Jennifer would never understand, never have any clue about what happened in his head all the time. He barely stood a chance. Most of it wasn’t easy to articulate, either. Most shit he did on impulse—based on some deep-seated need to feel better. He wouldn’t expect anyone else to understand it, because he barely could himself.

  “I don’t know, Jen. I don’t know. But don’t give up on me again—not yet. Don’t slam the door when we’ve barely had a chance.”

  “Give me one good reason why, Zane.” He started searching inside himself, but she wasn’t going to give him the opportunity to think. “One good reason. You make me feel like crap, Zane. Like I’m not enough. Like you don’t care. Like I’m one of a million different girls—you just happen to remember my name.”

  “That’s not true, babe.”

  “That’s what it feels like.”

  “But I...” This was hard. How could he explain what shit rolled around his head to her?

  He knew he couldn’t.

  All he had was himself to give. “I love you, Jen. I don’t want to lose you again.”

  She started laughing then, and it hurt—more than he would have expected. “You have a funny way of showing it.”

  “I—I’ll stop. I won’t do it anymore.”

  “Won’t do what anymore?”

  “Fuck around.”

  She laughed once more. “I’ve heard that before.”

  Oh, fuck. She had. He knew he’d said it more than once in the past, usually after getting caught.

  Yeah, Val had thought she had it bad. Ethan’s infidelities were usually brought about by drug binges. The guy would get so baked, he’d fuck the hole to the gas tank if his dick was anywhere near it, whether the hole looked sexy or not. Zane was convinced that half the time, Ethan didn’t even realize he was having sex, let alone was cheating on the girl who loved him.

  Zane, though...he knew fully well what he was doing, on drugs or not. Drunk or not. And it didn’t matter what chemicals were swirling through his head and veins—he fucking knew.

  That made him as despicable as Jen had said. So, instead of arguing, he ground his teeth and looked at the table. Jesus fuck. She was right. She couldn’t believe him, shouldn’t trust him—should run very far away. Before he could say anything, Jen said, “I can’t keep doing this, Zane. It’s a sick cycle. Just...this time we went through half the circle faster than usual. We don’t usually get here for a while. But I know now—I can’t do it anymore. I have Zoe to think of now. My life isn’t just me. I have a daughter to care for.

  “Besides that, Zane, it just freaking wrecks me. It kills me. I don’t think you have any idea of how it tears me apart inside to have you do this to me. It’s like—you might as well just take a knife to me. I think I’d heal faster that way. You just don’t get it.”

  Oh, he did. She had no fucking idea.

  Chapter Sixteen

  ZANE DIDN’T HAVE a clue how much he had wrecked her—not just tonight but always. That first time had been bad, but damn it. Jennifer was so stupid, she just kept going back for more—like she enjoyed it or something. Dumb, dumb, dumb.

  And here she was, entertaining him again. Actually considering giving him another chance, giving him the opportunity to crush her again. Why did she do that?

  It came down to the fact that she loved him. And part of her really did want for him to be a real dad to Zoe.

  So she was actually, once more, listening to the bullshit Zane was spewing about getting better, about not cheating on her, about walking the straight and narrow. She had heard this spiel dozens of times before, and she was an idiot to even consider it.

  “Wait a second, Zane,” she said, interrupting his Please, babe speech. “How do I know this time will be any different? What will you do different this time?”

  He had a shell-shocked look on his face, almost like he couldn’t understand her because she was speaking a foreign language. He let out a long, slow breath of air and rubbed his index and middle fingers across his brows. He was clenching his jaw, and Jennifer could see his cheek muscles tense and relax, tense and relax in response. Then he shrugged and blinked.

  When he looked back up at her, he said, “Maybe we could move in together.”

  “What? Are you kidding? How the hell would that help?” Zoe paused from eating and looked at Jennifer. She rarely heard her mom raise her voice. Jennifer took a deep breath and smiled at her child, adjusting and toning down her voice before speaking again. “Zane, how do you think that would help anything?”

  “I wouldn’t be able to—”

  “Don’t you think it would make me capable of committing murder if I found you screwing some other woman in my bed?”

  “Well, yeah, but—”

  “No. That’s a bad idea. We are not moving in together. That’s insane.”

  “It’s not in—”

  “You gotta come up with something better than that.”

  “Would you stop interrupting me, for Christ’s sake?”

  “I’m not—oh. I guess I am. Sorry.” She’d been getting far too emotional—again—something that was easy to do when Zane was around. So she shut up, but then he didn’t say anything. In fact, the two of them were quiet for a long time, just listening to Zoe play with her food and babble. Jennifer finally said, “Look, Zane. The old stuff you did never worked. Whatever your plan was for staying faithful never ever worked for you, and I’m getting too old to keep playing this game.”

  “It’s not a game.”

  “It feels like it. And so...you g
otta change it. Because I already know how it’ll end—at least if we keep playing the same old way we always have.”

  “I can get better.”

  “Zane, do you even hear yourself? I think you believe it—but your history says otherwise. You have never ever been able to stay faithful to me...and I can’t do it anymore. One time and we’re done. Forever. For good. And I don’t think you realize how serious I am.”

  He was quiet again, staring into his coffee cup before he looked up at her. “I think—I think maybe I need some help.”

  “Help?”

  “Yeah. I, uh...I was just in rehab again a while back and, uh...they go hand in hand.”

  “What?”

  “Getting high and fucking around.”

  “Do you think that excuses your behavior?”

  “Oh, hell, no, babe. I just know that if I pop a pill or have a drink...a girl is sure to follow.” He swallowed. “Sometimes, it’s the other way around, but usually that’s how it goes.”

  “So stay quit, Zane. Is it so hard?”

  He kept his voice quiet, but his words seemed so loud. “Yeah, actually, it is. I can’t stay quit, Jen.”

  “Then you have to stay away from me.”

  He blinked again, his face to the table, and she could swear she saw a bead of moisture drop from his eye. She couldn’t prove it and she wasn’t going to ask, but she thought maybe she was seeing a crack in his façade. Maybe something she’d said sparked something inside him. “I don’t want to, Jen. You’re like the one ray of sunshine in my life—like the tiny pinprick of light at the end of the tunnel.” His voice was quiet and cracked when he said, “You’re what I live for.”

  “What? That’s bullshit, Zane.”

  “No...it’s not. You really don’t know.”

  He swallowed and kept his eyes to the table, like he was truly repentant and ashamed. She’d never seen him act this way before...and so she almost wanted to believe him. “I’m sorry, Zane, but I can’t allow you to continue hurting me just because I’m the light at the end of your dark tunnel. I can’t.”

  Zane brought his hand to his brows again, pressing his index finger to one and his thumb to the other, and Jen didn’t know if it was calming for him or if he was trying to hide his eyes from her. His quiet voice croaked. “I think I need help.”

  “That’s what you said—but then you said you don’t stay quit. Why is that?”

  He ran his entire hand down his face before looking at her. “Because I don’t want to talk to them. I leave before we’re done. They want to talk about my childhood and other shit—and I don’t feel like it. I can’t handle it. It makes me feel worse.”

  “But maybe you’d feel better if you stuck it out.”

  “You saying you want me to try rehab again?”

  “Zane, I don’t know what you need. I only know that you are a broken record. You keep repeating your mistakes over and over again...and I’m just helping you do it. I can’t help you anymore. I won’t help you anymore. It’s not just me I’m living for nowadays, Zane. I have to think of my daughter too.”

  He blinked and, in that moment, seemed more sincere than she’d ever seen him. “One more chance, Jen. That’s all I ask.”

  And she didn’t know if it was stupidity or compassion...but she agreed to give him one more time.

  * * *

  What the hell had he just agreed to? The victim mentality he wanted to give into kept telling him Jen had extorted him—forced him into getting some kind of help in exchange for seeing her. He knew it wasn’t true, though. Deep down, he knew he needed help. The kind of compulsions he gave into on a continual basis were neither healthy nor beneficial. He really needed help and he’d merely been avoiding it all these years. The biggest proof? He was still feeling a residual high and he’d indulged in foreign pussy less than twelve hours earlier. Like a typical addict, he’d pretended that just one drink or just one hit or just one dalliance here and there didn’t count. Deep down, though, in the murky abyss where he hated himself, he knew the truth.

  So, much as he wanted to whine and complain, he instead decided to fucking man up and just do it. His prize for completing the task? Jennifer Manders. He was going to have to get used to her being a mom, though. That was weird. Not bad...just strange and unexpected. He didn’t know why he was so shocked, though. She’d made the decision to move on with her life.

  Without him.

  That was why it had hurt so badly, though. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to move on without hurt. It would have been like cutting off an arm.

  As he drove home that night, he started thinking of the least painful way to do it. Maybe Jenna, Ethan’s significant other, would be willing to take him on as a patient. If nothing else, she already knew him and so she wouldn’t judge him...right?

  He was going to sleep on it...and, for the first time in a long time, he was going to do it completely and utterly sober.

  Chapter Seventeen

  THE NEXT MORNING, Zane was gritting his teeth, standing in his kitchen and trying to decide if he wanted to make coffee or go out for it. The clock on the wall said ten-thirty, so he chose not to wait and picked up his phone, dialing his good friend’s number.

  When Ethan picked up, Zane said, “Hey, Ethan. Can I come over and talk with you and Jenna?”

  “About what, man? Everything okay?”

  He remembered the annoying therapist in his last rehab stint, the one that made Zane decide that just getting off all the shit, even if just for a few weeks, was good enough. In spite of the woman’s irritating qualities, one thing she’d said that made sense—whether he liked it or not—was about honesty. Lying and not talking about things or, as she called it, hiding in the weeds only harmed him. It made it harder for him to get what he needed out of life.

  So...full-blown honesty it was, even if it hurt. “No. That’s why I wanted to come talk with you guys.” He forced a smile, even though Ethan wouldn’t see it, probably wouldn’t even hear it in his voice. “I’ll bring coffee.”

  “You comin’ now?”

  “Yeah. If that’s all right.”

  “Yep. Come on over.”

  Ethan didn’t live that far away from Zane, but driving half an hour with teeth clenched while white-knuckling the steering wheel made it seem like eons. Stopping for coffee and breaking up the ride didn’t help much either. It just made it seem longer. And he’d made up his mind, so he wanted to get started already.

  Unlike the rest of his band buddies, Ethan lived in a gated community, and Zane had to pass inspection to get in. He was on the list, of course, but he had to stop just the same. Ethan had explained it to Zane when he first did it. For some reason—probably because of his notorious history—Ethan managed to attract a lot of strange people, stalker types, and the guy wanted to keep his family safe. If it had been him on his own, he said he wouldn’t have cared, but with a girlfriend and children, it was a necessity. He insisted it was worth every penny.

  So after miles and traffic and coffee and the gate, by the time Zane got to their front door, he was a nervous wreck.

  Yeah...he knew it wasn’t just the time it took to get there making him a bundle of nerves. He was also already experiencing the early stages of withdrawal. It was partly stupid, trying to be coherent and talk about his problems calmly and rationally without the aid of chemical support, but it would also underscore how badly he really needed it if he’d pounded some pills before coming over.

  But, of all people, Ethan and Jenna would understand.

  It didn’t matter. If Zane had caved—especially this early on, when the symptoms of detox were mildly irritating as opposed to how bad they would get (and this he knew from past experience)—it would have been like he didn’t care about Jennifer. He needed to prove to himself that he could do it.

  After their cursory greetings, Ethan slapped Zane on the back and closed the front door behind him. Zane was holding a drink carrier with three big paper cups of coffee, and the scent was
teasing his nostrils. For the first time in ages, Zane wanted a cigarette to go with.

  God...this was gonna be bad.

  “You look like hell, man. What’s goin’ on?”

  “I need to talk to you and Jenna.”

  Zane could see the worried look in his friend’s pale green eyes. “Yeah, sure. She’s in the dining room with Scarlet.”

  They walked in the large room anchored by a long shiny mahogany table. The long royal purple drapes were pulled to the side, letting sunlight stream in through the large, long windows. The coolness inside the room belied how warm it was growing outside, but Zane preferred drinking coffee when he was cool. He remembered how his dad had always talked about how coffee cooled him off on a hot day.

  Why the fuck did thoughts of his dad pop into his head now? Now? When he desperately needed something positive to hold onto, memories of his father were the last thing he needed. Jenna had been on the floor with the baby. Well...Scarlet wasn’t much of a baby anymore. She was upright and walking on her own. When exactly had that happened? Had that much time passed?

  Jesus fuck. Yeah...Zane really needed to dry out. He couldn’t keep track of shit anymore. Time seemed meaningless, especially when he could only remember events when juxtaposed with album releases and tours. He set the tray of coffee on the table and tried to have a positive—or at least neutral—expression on his face before Jenna looked at him.

  “Zane,” Jenna said, walking over to him and pulling him into a warm embrace. “How are you doing?”

  “Not good.” And it didn’t help that little Scarlet was acting scared of him, hiding behind Ethan’s leg, holding onto it like a tree trunk that was going to save her from the big bad wolf.

  “Thanks for the coffee. Do you need any cream or sugar?”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  Jenna looked at Ethan. He picked up their child and kissed her on the cheek. “Want me to go get it?”