Locked and Loaded (Bullet, #6) Page 3

  The actual breaking up, though, usually had to do with Zane’s impulse control, for lack of a better phrase, but the arguing up to that point made splitting the right thing to do.

  There really was no getting him out of her life now...and she didn’t know that she could pass up the chance to see him. That was something she knew was beginning to be impossible.

  Chapter Four

  ZANE COMPROMISED. WHEN he’d hung up with Valerie the night before, he’d promised to give it two days before calling. After waiting a day, though, he said, Fuck it. She’d had a chance to alert her friend just like she’d asked, and he wasn’t willing to give her any more time. He’d promised to wait...but now that he had Jennifer’s phone number (and no response to the message he’d left her on Facebook), asking him to wait was like asking a little kid with a fresh piece of frosted birthday cake sitting right in front of him to not run his finger along the edge so he could lick the icing off his finger.

  Impossible.

  So he called Jennifer that night, already prepared to leave a message—something simple, as casual as possible, but also letting her know that she’d been heavy in his thoughts. He might not have the ability like his wordsmith friends to make a woman swoon with poetry, but he did get that she needed to know she was special, no matter how plain the words. To tell her she’d not just been dancing in his head but consuming his every waking thought was to let her know she wasn’t just a bimbo or a quick lay or even a fond memory. She was present in his mind.

  Except she answered the call.

  That too might have caused him to falter, but this was Jennifer he was calling. Whether she wanted to be or not, she was a huge part of his life, had been with him as he’d been becoming the man he’d be (for better or worse—mostly worse), had witnessed his life just prior to big things happening.

  She was an important part of his life.

  When she answered with an innocent and quiet “Hello?” Zane almost felt his heart fill his chest. God, he’d missed her—and he hadn’t realized how much until that moment. He always forgot how empty he felt until she filled him up again.

  “Jen?”

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s Zane. How you been?”

  “Oh, Zane. Hi. Um...great. It’s, uh, it’s been a while.”

  “Yeah, it has. So I wondered if you wanted to get together for coffee...or dinner. Just to catch up, you know.” And, if she remembered all the times they’d gotten together before, she knew as much as he did that getting together also likely meant a wild and crazy fuck session at the end of the first reunion date, reaffirming that, yeah, there was no one else who made him feel the way she did. He hoped it felt the same way for her.

  It had to, right?

  “I don’t know...”

  That felt like a red light. She’d never said that before. Did that mean she was moving on, moving past him? Was she no longer willing to try?

  It felt like his heart was literally dropping from his chest into his abdominal cavity, as painful as one would expect. But he wasn’t going to act like a weepy little baby. If she had given up on him for good, he’d find a way to move on...or give up entirely. He wasn’t sure yet, but there was no way he was going to force himself on this woman.

  Zane swallowed and took a quick breath, knowing he had to keep his voice light. “What’s not to know? Two old friends, catching up and talking about old times.”

  “I’m kinda busy nowadays.”

  Oh. He was no idiot. “Gotcha. Boyfriend? Uh, or husband?” God, please, no.

  Jennifer let out a nervous laugh. “No. I guess you could say I’m married to my work.”

  “That exciting?”

  “Not really...but bills, you know? They kind of keep me in the relationship.”

  Zane hated the idea that Jennifer might not love her work but be in it for the money. In spite of all the pitfalls he’d experienced over the years, he loved his job. Yeah, there had been major...problems, for lack of a better word, but he was still doing something he loved. He’d gone to college for a year back when he first met Jennifer, looking for something “realistic,” something his old man had nagged him about, and Zane had jumped at the chance to get away from the bullshit of his home life. His dad had hardly ever been around but, when he was, he used Zane’s head like a fucking basketball. He would have done anything to get away, and going to college with his friend Ethan had seemed like the best, most obvious choice. His mom had told him over and over that he should be a music teacher, but Zane hadn’t felt talented enough. He could play the trumpet and find his way around a drum kit, but he loved the bass. It was an underrated instrument, one that fans had often dismissed as unimportant, but Zane knew better. Some of the smartest guys he’d ever met had been bassists.

  In spite of trying out school for a year, he’d lucked out and been part of a great group of friends, led by a hell of a guy with a drive more powerful than a semi, Brad Payne, and with that guy at the helm, there was no way they couldn’t have made it. Brad had known all along that their band would succeed, and so he’d had no backup plan. He’d followed his vision and led Fully Automatic to the top. Thanks to Brad, Zane would never have to work a “regular” job his entire life. So it killed him to think that Jennifer might be doing something because she had to...she was having to work a less-than-desirable job to pay the student loans for the education she’d pursued to get that job in the first place. It seemed like a hell of a vicious cycle.

  But weeping over her state wouldn’t win him any points. Humor, though...humor might—or even just a little levity. “You’re telling me you work so many hours you can’t go for a cup of coffee with an old friend?”

  She laughed. “Well, when you put it that way...when were you thinking?”

  Inside, Zane felt a dark cloud lift. He could hardly wait to see her. She was the light in his life, and he’d been in the shadows for far too long. “How about dinner instead?”

  * * *

  Jennifer stood looking at herself in the bathroom mirror. She was trying to decide if the pink lipstick worked, but she was distracted by the fact that she was actually going to be meeting Zane for dinner. Again. They’d never worked, never lasted...not once. Why she thought things would be different now was beyond her.

  Kara peeked in the open door, Zoe in her arms, bouncing and reaching for her mama. Yes, Zoe was just the first of many reasons why Jennifer shouldn’t—absolutely should not—go on this date with her former on-again, off-again boyfriend. Jennifer could already predict the path their date and ensuing next few dates would go, based on their tumultuous history. First, there would be the honeymoon phase, the time when they’d forgotten how much they loved being around each other, how damned attracted they were to each other. They would likely end up in bed that night, even—she knew how they were, and they’d be lucky to keep their paws off each other for any length of time. And even if they managed to keep their hands off for this date, they’d set a second, knowing in the back of their minds that it wouldn’t be long.

  The honeymoon phase could last anywhere from two weeks to three or four months. The sex would be setting-off-fireworks amazing. She knew she herself would be smiling and happy, infused with just-got-laid hormones. The good feelings would surge through her veins, making everyday chores and trials seem light and unimportant. She’d look forward to seeing Zane again, and they would strip down to nothing and be pressing skin into skin, flesh into flesh in seconds.

  Then, once the newness wore off, the irritations would begin and they’d start bickering. It would seem lighthearted and maybe even fun at first, but it wouldn’t be long before it turned nasty and vicious, where they truly felt angry and upset with each other, and, just before they completely despised each other, they would decide it wasn’t worth the effort.

  And Zane would likely break her heart. Again.

  Just thinking about it made Jennifer consider calling Zane and telling him she was sick or otherwise indisposed. Thinking about their relatio
nship objectively and knowing where it would go almost made her not want to bother.

  But she had to see him. It had been too long.

  So much had changed since they’d last seen each other, though. First off, there was sweet little Zoe. Actually, that little baby girl was the only change, but the child’s presence had been life changing for Jennifer. Now, if she and Zane didn’t stay together (which wasn’t likely, based on their track record), she’d be fine. She wouldn’t feel devastated and hopeless for weeks (or even months) on end like had happened so many times in the past. She wouldn’t take forever recovering, trying to find a way to go on when the one guy she couldn’t figure out how to let go broke her heart once again.

  She just had one huge decision to make.

  She looked over at Zoe. The child’s dark hair—fuzzy and wispy but growing longer every day—contrasted with her pale skin, her dark blue eyes sparkling as her mom finally put her out of her misery and took her in her arms, kissing the baby on the cheek and then lifting her above her head, making her smile open mouthed, her eyes sparkling, a giggle erupting from her belly.

  Jennifer knew it would be wrong to keep secret from Zane that he had an eighteen-month-old daughter, but if things went south as they always did, she and the man would need time apart to recover. If he knew he had a child, they’d never get the time apart they needed and then they’d never have a chance of working out.

  Not that it was a remote possibility.

  Kara said, “You look great, Jen, but you don’t seem very thrilled about this date.”

  Thinking back over the last few dates she’d had, Jennifer said, “Do I ever?”

  “You have a point there.” Kara backed up a little as Jennifer began walking out of the bathroom. “What time will you be back?”

  Jennifer gave it some thought. “I really don’t know. With Zane? Hard to say. If he makes me mad, always a possibility, I could be home in less than an hour, but if we have a good time—and we usually do the first time we see each other in a long time—I’ll be tempted to stay out all night.” She didn’t miss the way Kara’s eyes grew larger—as if Jennifer had just turned into a slut and wouldn’t be back until sunup. “I’ll be home by midnight.”

  “No worries if you don’t wanna. It’s not like I have school tomorrow or something.”

  Yeah, Kara was getting ready to start her senior year in a couple of months, and Jennifer wondered what the hell she was going to do once the girl left for college or just moved out of her folks’ house because she was an adult. Zoe wouldn’t even be three years old by then.

  Jennifer shook her head. She wasn’t ready to be worrying about the future right now. She had a date to stress over—one that could go badly in several different directions. She walked to the living room, kissing Zoe on the cheek once more and then setting her down on the floor, standing her on her feet. “You know the drill,” she said to Kara, but Zoe continued tugging on Jennifer’s skirt and fussing. Jennifer squatted in front of her toddler. “Maybe she’s hungry?”

  “No problem. I’m on it.” Kara looked at Zoe. “Come here, sweetie.” Zoe pouted and gave her a look that said Not happening, lady.

  Jennifer smoothed her child’s fuzzy hair and kissed her forehead. “Love you, baby. Mama’ll see you later.”

  Gotta go see your daddy first.

  Daddy...what a scary concept.

  Chapter Five

  “I HAVE A guilty pleasure.”

  “What’s that, you naughty boy?”

  “Heh. If I tell you, you have to swear on your life you won’t tell Ethan...or even Valerie. It’ll be our little secret.”

  “Tease. So stop pussyfooting around and tell me what it is already.”

  “Okay...you know I love metal music, but sometimes I like other stuff too.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like shit that would get me kicked out of our band.”

  “Like...?”

  “Like...have you ever heard of The Power Station?”

  “Um...no. Should I have?”

  “Maybe not. They were an eighties super group.”

  “Eighties? What the hell are you doing listening to eighties music?”

  “Hey. There are a lot of awesome hair metal bands from the eighties. In fact, I’d argue that metal really took hold during that decade. Don’t knock it. Some of Mötley Crüe and Judas Priest’s best albums are from that decade. Hell, lots others. I could go on—”

  “No, that’s okay. You were telling me about your guilty pleasure, remember?”

  “Yeah, so...The Power Station. There’s this one song of theirs...”

  “What’s it called?”

  “‘Some Like It Hot.’ I swear to Christ, it’s not the kind of thing I should like. It’s a mix of pop and dance and some funky shit. I don’t know if it’s the catchy tune or the heavy percussion or even the brass...or what the fuck but damn. Sometimes I just love that fucking song.”

  “So play it for me then.”

  “Okay, let me pull it up on YouTube. Just a sec... Your phone’s in your pocket, right?”

  “You’re such a freak, Zane.”

  “I’m serious, Jen. No one—I mean no one—can ever know.”

  “I’m gonna record you. Oh, yeah. I’m gonna record you.”

  “You little shit.”

  What the fuck? Why was Zane so goddamned nervous? He and Jen had been friends for years—years—and she probably knew him better than anyone else. Yeah, he still kept secrets...from her, from Ethan, from lots of other people, but—for all that—she knew as much about him as anyone. He’d let her in further than just about anyone else.

  She knew him...and maybe that was why he was so stressed. There were things about Zane Jennifer wished she’d never known.

  He would have liked to tell her he’d changed, that he was a new man, but that would be a lie and she would know it. Yeah, he’d cleaned up, been sober for a few weeks, but the demons were still dark and deep, lurking and waiting until Zane would unleash them once more. He’d gotten away with so much shit in his band, and he knew he could thank Ethan for that. Ethan had taken so much heat, so much flak for all his “shenanigans” that by the time Zane had more than topped Ethan’s misdeeds, no one even saw them. Ethan had been the one to shock, to go over the top, and it had been especially tragic for two reasons—the first was that the guy had OD’ed more than once. Almost losing one’s life in pursuit of a high was poignant. The second, though, was how he’d broken Valerie’s willing heart over and over and over—and, in effect, her tears pointed out his wrongs, highlighted them for all the world to see.

  Zane, though...he was operating in the shadows, away from watchful eyes. He and Jen were off more than they were on, and she wasn’t close to anyone in the band except for Valerie—and even they weren’t close once the Fully Automatic crew first moved to Denver, quitting the college scene. His heartbreaking opportunities were cut short by the fact that they never stayed together long.

  But that wasn’t to say he hadn’t hurt Jen. Not by a long shot. He’d hurt her and hurt her good more than once, and he was surprised sometimes that she still gave him a chance. Because he knew the truth, the horrible truth that most people didn’t even suspect.

  He made Ethan look like an angel.

  Yeah, most people would have no clue and probably wouldn’t even believe it, but Zane knew...and it ripped him to shreds most times, which fueled a never ending cycle of hate that was already there. The self-loathing just made it worse.

  So when he looked in the rearview mirror one last time, he tried not to think of himself as phony. Jen, of all people, knew him inside better than anyone else. For some stupid reason, she loved him too and he somehow knew he was safe with her.

  He pulled his long fingers through his hair and sighed before opening the door and easing his way out of the car. They’d agreed to avoid downtown Denver at all costs, because finding parking was always a nightmare. Instead, they’d agreed to meet at a small restaurant in L
akewood, a Szechuan place with a parking lot and a decent reputation. One thing Zane and Jennifer had always agreed upon was Asian food, so much so that one of the last times they’d been together—about two years ago—they’d decided to make their own Kung Pao Chicken. It had turned out pretty good. They’d had to go back out once because they hadn’t had all the ingredients, but once they were done, the flavor had been spot on, the veggies and chicken perfect.

  Their lovemaking that night had been particularly spicy as well, if Zane’s memory served.

  It was the last good night they’d spent together. The next day, the bickering had started and it wasn’t long before it was full blown once more. Zane would have liked to shrug his shoulders and try to convince himself that he didn’t understand why they couldn’t get along, but deep down, he knew the root cause.

  It was all him.

  And the only reason why Jennifer even gave him half a chance was because she truly loved him. Yeah, Zane would throw his hands up in the air and complain about the arguing, yelling that he couldn’t stand that kind of bullshit and he wanted to “make love, not war,” but he knew the nagging that led to the arguing would stop if he could straighten up his act.

  Three days, he’d been good. Exceptionally good. Maybe this time he could make them work. He knew it took a good three weeks—twenty-one days, right?—to make a habit stick. He had to mend his ways for Jennifer’s sake.