Chapter 4
I ferried the steaming bowl to the table. Vivian leaned in for a whiff, nose crinkling like she'd sniffed roadkill. "Smells rank."
Zane steadied it under her chin, huffing cool breaths while he coaxed like a doting sire. "Down the hatch-that's the cure. Give it another go."
She sipped from his hold, dainty as a fawn. "Still scorches a bit."
...
Numb as a post, I climbed the stairs, their chatter fading to a dull hum behind the latch.
Yanked the old suitcase from its hidey-hole, started folding in the threads I'd hauled over three years back-neat stacks, no fuss.
The racks of high-dollar labels? Left 'em cold. Untouched.
Couldn't even claim the pick- just borrowed glamour, no strings owned.
Door creaked as Zane shouldered in; I'd just clicked the locks.
His growl rumbled low. "Where you headed?"
Shoved the case behind the panel, I shrugged it off. "Over it-trash run."
But the pivot slammed me back against the vanity. "Yeah, you're the pack's darling now, back for the high life, right? That hit the spot? Closets bursting with silks and sparklers, rides on tap. Back when you snagged that five mil payout-dreamed of this glow-up?"
He crowded my space, hot breath ghosting my neck, each syllable a barb sinking deep.
I'd sworn it a thousand ways: that cash? Never touched a dime.
Never sank in.
Locked eyes with his wild, shadowed glare-obsession churning-and for the first time, I zipped it.
What good was yelling myself hoarse?
Whatever. Let it lie.
Done clawing innocence from a wolf who'd never buy it.
Head down, I let out a feather-light sigh.
He read it as checkmate, snagged my wrist, yanked my chin up. "Still peddling the 'not for the green' line? Then why you save Grandpa? Why me in the lineup? Show me! Prove you're in it for me-for real!"
His bark cracked, fraying at the edges, madness bubbling.
My wrist ground under his grip, bones grinding-I bit back a yelp, then he flung me loose.
Slam. Door rattled shut. Legs buckled; I pooled on the floor.
Three years of his "prove it" gauntlets. Three years of me showing, not telling.
Harvest? Bottomless digs and spits.
Head to knees, the dam cracked-shoulders shaking, sobs sneaking out in hitches.
Till dusk bled to pitch black. I clawed the wall for leverage, snagged the buzzing phone from the quilt.
Thumbed it live: call from the burial grounds. "Nia, slides hit the ridge hard these days-your dam's plot hugs the drop. Groundskeeper just clocked the stone cracked through. Gotta relocate before tomorrow's downpour, or even the ashes go. Relo plus fresh spot? Around a hundred grand."
Clicked off, tore the place apart hunting funds.
App pinged up the request-hundred K, queued for three-day vetting.
Too late. Way too.
Shoes jammed on in a scramble, flicked open a post: Vivian's fresh drop, Zane deep in her house's bash.
Beat feet over there; found him hunkered in a sofa corner, slamming a full glass of red like it was water.
Vivian blinked, thrown. "Nia? What's the play?"
Ignored her flat, lasered on Zane.
Teens below, that arctic bite-I'd sprinted the whole haul, sweat beading my spine. "Zane... can we step out? Just a sec."
She plopped beside him, all sugar. "Nia, spill it here-pack's tight, right? Out there's a freezer; he just tossed back vino-could catch a chill."
Planted there, I watched him freeze, just arching a brow, raking me top to tail. "Out with it."
Ice in his drawl, zero nod to the raw scramble twisting my gut.
A dozen stares bored in-palms slick, my ask wobbled out. "Can I hit you up for a hundred grand?"
Boom. Laughter exploded, shattering the air.
Cheeks blazed, scalp crawling tight.
But Mom's remains sat exposed-no play B.
"Nia, Zane's mate and you're broke for a Benjamin stack? Here-my kicks, gently used. Still north of ten large."
"Crashing to stir the pot? Like he's shorting you or something."
Vivian stifled her giggle, hand to mouth, all wide-eyed wisdom. "What's the cash grab for? New drops hit, Zane snaps 'em all your way-threads, bling. Nia, greed's a slippery slope."
Zane's eyes shuttered dark, knuckles whitening on his stem.
That probe in his stare stabbed fresh-doubt twisting the knife-but I muscled through. "Mom's marker got smashed in the slide-need to shift it, snag a new plot. It's a loan-I'll square up."
Vivian snort-laughed, waving it off apologetic-like. "Whoops, Nia-had to. But that's a whopper of a fib. Landslide? Not a peep on the wires. Pick a better yarn next time if you want Zane to bite. And cursing your own dam's ghost? Whew-even a stray like me thinks that's low-road."
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