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He kisses my cheek and joins Linc to order his drink.
I wait and scan the ballroom. Zane’s still standing in a large group, and they’re laughing at the end of a story. I’m glad to see he’s laughing, too. I haven’t seen my brother happy in a long time. I mean, happy about something that doesn’t have to do with Stella, and maybe he’s leaving some of the past behind, too.
“I’m going to rescue him. He’s had enough for now, and I think he’d like to meet Linc before dinner starts. I’ll be right back.” Stella picks up the beer she ordered Zane off the bar and glides across the room, women stopping her to compliment her dress. She looks beautiful wearing a column of dark blue and silver heels. She left her hair down, the way Zane likes it, and it floats behind her as she walks.
The bartender’s busy, and Gage waits for his turn, not letting me go far, his hand warm against my bare back. He likes to touch me, and I savor it, appreciating I’m healing enough to enjoy it.
Things are good and I’m calm, idly attempting to match names to faces and catching glimpses of the slideshow. People look at me, and I try to keep my expression open and inviting. Without Gage, I’m too scared to initiate a conversation with anyone, but after meeting Linc, I know I could talk to someone if they approached me first.
A couple walks toward us from my left, an older man dressed in a tux and a slim woman wearing a cream and gold gown. A sick, greasy feeling slithers around my gut, and I stare at the man as he advances, his hand hovering near the woman’s back, like Gage’s palm grazing the skin between my shoulder blades.
A flash ofsomethingzips through my brain. Pain. Swift and sharp.
Phantom aches stab me in the belly, and a sheen of sweat covers my skin.
I’ve never met this man in my life. There’s no reason he should elicit such a response, but he smiles, baring his teeth like a shark, and I step back as he closes in.
Gage turns toward them.
“Gage! There you are,” the woman exclaims, a smile lighting her face.
I stumble backward.
He wants to hurt me.
I don’t know where the thought came from, but it’s there, neon bright, shooting off danger like a flare gun.
“Zarah, are you okay?” Gage asks. He looks between me and the man, and he shifts, angling his body slightly in front of mine. Like he’s shielding me.
My tongue won’t work.
“You don’t look well, my dear,” the man says, and Max’s voice comes out of his mouth. I flash to Max, sweet Max, in my bed at the Crowne, asking if he can touch me, show me he loves me.
“I—I’m okay,” I stutter, but I’m not. Oh, God, I’m not.
“Zarah, this is my mother, Delilah, and her husband, Max’s dad, and my stepfather, Senator Rourke Cook,” Gage says, introducing us, his hand curled around the nape of my neck.
My gaze shoots to Senator Cook’s, but I can’t see his eyes. He’s wearing glasses like Max used to, and the slideshow reflects off the lenses. He holds out his hand. I don’t want to touch him, but I can’t ignore it or I’ll look extremely rude.
He squeezes too hard, and my bones rub together.
Warning.
I start to shake.
He knows me, but I don’t know him.
“Gage. She doesn’t look well. This crowd may be too much. Perhaps you should go outside and get some air,” the senator says, his cold gaze never leaving my face.
“What Ithink,you son of a bitch, is that you need to stay away from her,” Gage says lowly, crowding him, pushing him backward.
“What has gotten into you?” The woman, Delilah, asks, a hand to her throat where a large diamond rests just above her cleavage. “That’s no way to speak to your fath—”
“Gage. Not here.” Linc joins our group and grips my upper arm.
Instinctively, I lean into Gage’s dad, sensing an ally. Against what, I don’t know, but I’m grateful, nonetheless.
“He’s not my father,” Gage spits at his mother and then to Senator Cook, “I know every vile—”