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"I look better than you," I said, pointing to my eye.
"Rude," he replied, laughing.
"How did you get that shiner?"
"Staircase," he replied, the smile still playing on his face.
"Fell down or tripped up?" I asked, the corners of my mouth tugging up in a teasing manner.
"Bit of both," Zane admitted with a sheepish grin. He eased back into the sofa, the ice pack making a soft crinkling noise against his dark stubble. “He was huge.”
“The staircase?”
“Oh, yeah,” he replied.
"Well, you're not the first man to be bested by a set of stairs," I said. I settled back, watching as Zane's smile remained. Despite the grim situation we found ourselves in, his ability to keep spirits high was admirable.
"Are you worried about tonight?" he asked quietly. The smile faded slightly from his face as he gently turned the conversation to a more serious topic.
I sighed, "Of course I am." I admitted, looking down at my fidgeting hands. "But it's not like we have much of a choice. I'm worried about every night as long as Vito is after our kid."
Zane nodded solemnly, agreeing with my sentiment. "For what it's worth," he began, turning towards me. "I would do anything to protect you."
I smiled at him. "Yeah," I said. "I know."
Chapter Six: Zane
Bash left me in charge of Justice. I wasn’t going to say no to that.
Once the rest of the guys had gone and our brief conversation was over, Justice had gone to the office to look up any information about the De Lucas. The noise had ebbed away, and in the quieter hum of Bash's study, my attention honed in on Justice. There she was, a figure of steadfast resolve amongst scattered papers and murmuring screens, carrying the day's weight in the set of her shoulders and the shadows under her eyes.
“I brought you a cup of green tea,” I said.
She looked up from her laptop, flashing me a weary smile. "Thanks, Zane," she murmured, accepting the steaming mug and cradling it between her hands. Her fingers, usually so deft and sure, trembled ever so slightly from fatigue.
Her gaze was drawn back to the documents strewn before her, but I could tell the words were blurring together. She was pushing herself too hard again. A familiar worry tangled with a deeper desire in my chest.
"Justice…" I began, unsure of the right words to convey my concern and longing. "You're running on fumes. Let me help."
She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as if to ward off a headache. "I know, Doctor Silva," she said lightly, trying for a teasing tone that didn't quite land.
"Consider this an intervention," I told her, hoping to lighten the tension. "Working yourself into the ground isn't going to help anyone, least of all you."
Her lips twitched in a small smile, but her eyes were still clouded with worry and exhaustion. "I know you're right... but we need to be prepared, Zane. There's too much at stake."
I nodded, understanding seeping deep into my bones. The responsibility she shouldered was heavy. She had to take care of all of us and we were a nightmare.
"I know. Here, let me take a look," I offered, my hands coming up to gently knead the tension from her shoulders. She stiffened at my touch before sighing into it, her head lolling forward as I worked.
My fingers brushed against the soft tendrils of her hair, their touch sending a shiver down my spine. Heat pooled in my belly, stoking the flames of an ever-present desire I’d kept carefully in check for too long. It was hard; she was busy, she was planning a wedding, she had a child to raise.
It wasn't like we weren't intimate, but carving time for just the two of us had become a challenge. As soon as Skylar got the vibe that we were going to do something, he also wanted to be included. And I couldn't blame him a bit.
But right now, her skin was warm under my hands…and I wasn’t going to miss this chance.
"Breathe, Justice," I murmured, my voice low and soothing as I leaned closer.
"A little hard to concentrate when you're doing that," she retorted, her words muffled by her arms as she rested her forehead against them. It was meant as a jest, but the strain in her voice was apparent.