Defending Zara (Mountain Mercenaries #6)(29)

The men started to leave the room, and Meat called out, “Gray?”

He turned after the others had left. “Yeah?”

“You’ll bring my computer straightaway?”

“Be back in two minutes,” Gray reassured him, and then it was only Zara and Meat left in the room.

“You go first,” Meat said, gesturing toward the bathroom.

Zara hesitated. She didn’t have anything to put on after she was clean, and even though she’d said she could put the clothes she was wearing back on, that was the last thing she really wanted to do.

Once again, Meat seemed to be able to read her mind. “I’ll give you one of my clean T-shirts and a pair of sweats to wear until Arrow returns with something for you.”

Zara bit her lip. She wanted to get in the shower more than she wanted just about anything—other than for her parents to be alive. But she didn’t want to seem greedy or rude. “I wasn’t kidding about wondering how much hot water this place has.” She tried to make light of her situation. “It’s been a very long time since I’ve been able to have a hot shower. Once I get in there, it’ll be a while before I come back out.”

Instead of laughing at her attempt at a joke, he frowned and stepped toward her. Zara held her ground and stared up at him; Meat towered over her. His broad shoulders blocked the overhead light. His scratchy dark-brown beard hid much of his face, but she could see the serious look in his eyes. “I don’t give a shit if you’re in there an hour, Zara. Take your time. Take all fucking night; it won’t faze me.”

“But I’m sure you want your turn,” she protested weakly.

“And I’ll get it. When you’re done.”

A momentary vision of them sharing the shower flashed through her brain.

Zara had no idea where that had come from. She’d pretty much thought she was uninterested in sex. She’d spent most of her adult life trying to avoid men and staying as far away from them as possible.

Yet here she was, alone in a motel room with a very good-looking guy.

She should be scared of him. Should be doing everything in her power to get away from him. But when he looked at her with respect, admiration, and tenderness, she couldn’t seem to think about anything other than how big he was, how he’d be able to stand between her and anything or anyone who might want to hurt her.

It was crazy. Insane. But she couldn’t stop her runaway thoughts.

“Okay,” she said after a beat.

“Okay,” he repeated with a smile. “While you’re busy in there, I’ll be out here seeing what I can find out about your situation and family. Is that all right?”

Zara couldn’t speak. This man had done more for her in a couple of days than anyone had since she was ten. She finally nodded.

She wanted to explain that, fifteen years ago, her parents had little to do with her mom’s family. That she remembered her maternal grandparents being cold and standoffish, and didn’t really remember her paternal grandparents at all. Her dad had been an only child, and his parents had passed when Zara was young. But her mom had a brother, Alan. He was ten years older and kinda mean and someone her mother hadn’t kept in touch with at all.

But she didn’t say any of that. Maybe they were different now. Maybe losing their daughter, and her uncle losing his sister, had changed them. Maybe knowing their granddaughter was missing in a foreign country had spurred them to be more sympathetic toward others in general.

She wanted to know if they’d looked for her. If they still wondered what had happened to her—or ever had wondered at all.

But she couldn’t open her mouth to ask Meat to find out. She was scared to know the answer.

Fifteen years ago, when she’d hidden in the barrio, terrified out of her mind, she’d stayed sane by convincing herself there was a massive search going on for her, and it was only a matter of time before the police would come marching through the barrio calling her name.

The first time she’d seen a police officer in the barrio, she’d come out of her hiding spot, eager to tell him that he’d found her. So ready to go home. But he’d raised and swung his baton when she’d gotten close, yelling something at her in Spanish.

Frightened, she’d backed away, tripping and falling, and he’d managed to smack the bottom of her feet with his baton. It had hurt. A lot. She’d run back to her hiding spot and didn’t come out again for days.

Slowly but surely, she’d realized that the big search she’d envisioned in her mind hadn’t happened. Or if it did, it hadn’t made its way to wherever the men had dropped her off. It had been scary and devastating at the same time.

All these years later, Zara wanted to know if her relatives had organized a search. She wanted to believe they had . . . but could she live with the knowledge that they hadn’t?

She straightened her spine. Of course she could. She’d made it this far on her own—she could continue to do just fine without them if it came to that.

“There’s a lot going on behind those beautiful eyes of yours, Zara. I won’t pry if you don’t want me to, but after seeing the media circus that surrounded Morgan’s return from the Dominican Republic, after she’d been missing for a year, I have a feeling your story will be even bigger. You were a kid when you disappeared, and somehow, against all odds, you survived. Everyone’s going to want to know your story. We’ll do our best to keep things under wraps, but the second Rex pulls his strings to get your passport and legal papers, word will get out. It’s just how things are. I need to know what we’ll be dealing with in regard to your family and your past. Okay?”