Defending Zara (Mountain Mercenaries #6)(38)

Sighing, Zara shifted uncomfortably. The mattress was too soft. She was used to sleeping on the hard ground. The pillow put her head at a weird angle and made her neck hurt. But she knew she was supposed to like this. Normal people slept on soft mattresses and used pillows. She’d just have to get used to it.

Turning over on her side, putting her back to Meat, Zara stared at the wall in front of her. She was scared about going back to America. Mags had told her to tell the American the truth and beg him to help her. But now she wasn’t so sure. Apparently she had no one waiting for her return. Her grandparents didn’t care, and it sounded like her uncle only wanted her money. Lots of people would pretend to be nice to her to get that money. It sounded like hell.

Maybe she would wait until Meat fell asleep, get up, put her own clothes back on, and slip out. Go back to what she knew.

Her mind swirling in confusion and distress, Zara closed her eyes and waited for Meat to turn out the light and go to sleep, so she could decide what to do.





Chapter Thirteen

Meat knew Zara wasn’t asleep when he turned off his computer and clicked off the light next to the bed. The hug he’d given her hadn’t gone well, and he had no idea why. Something had happened in her head, and he didn’t feel as if he had the right to ask.

He also didn’t know what had woken him up in the middle of the night, but he knew immediately it had to do with Zara.

He quickly sat up, forcing back a moan at the pain the movement caused in his ribs. Looking over at the bed next to his, he saw it was empty.

He carefully swung his legs off the mattress with the intent of going to the door and chasing her down. The sound that woke him up had to have been the door closing behind her as she snuck out.

But he stopped when he saw the small lump on the floor at his feet. Zara.

She hadn’t left.

She’d taken the comforter off the bed and dragged it to the opposite side of his bed, as far away from the door as possible. She’d made a pallet on the floor and was curled into a small ball.

His heart still racing from adrenaline, Meat carefully stood. He pulled the comforter from his own bed and got down on his knees. Very slowly, ever aware of his ribs, he lay down behind her, spreading his blanket over both of them. He wrapped an arm around her and cuddled his front to her back.

She didn’t move, didn’t turn over, but asked quietly, “What are you doing?”

“That should be my question,” he returned.

“The bed’s too soft,” she said. “The pillow too.”

Meat nodded. Of course it was. When you hadn’t used either in fifteen years, it would be extremely weird to try to sleep on a real bed.

“I don’t think this is going to work,” she said sadly.

“Yes, it is,” he countered immediately.

She shook her head. “I don’t know how to be Zara Layne. I’m not that ten-year-old girl anymore. I’m Zed. Daniela’s assistant, a pickpocket.”

Meat tightened his hold around her waist. “You are Zara Layne,” he insisted.

“I don’t know who that is,” she whispered.

“She’s whoever you want her to be. I know this is hard. And I can’t promise that from here on out, all things will get easier. Because they won’t. But you don’t have to change everything about who you are to be who you think you’re supposed to be. You’re more comfortable sleeping on the floor? Fine. Do that. Who cares? You want to continue to help sick people? We’ll look into what it will take for you to volunteer at a hospital or something.

“My point is, you were able to adapt to become Zed. You excelled at it. You’ll adapt to this too. And this time, you’re not alone. You’ve got me and the rest of the guys to help you. And their women too. And you’ll make new friends in the States.”

“You make it sound easy,” she replied.

“It’s not. It’ll be fucking hard,” he said. “There will be times you’ll wonder why in the hell you ever came back. You’ll want to rail at the world and say it’s not fair. But you’re going to make it. I know.”

“How?”

“Because you could’ve walked out that door tonight and disappeared again. You know the barrios way better than I ever could. I never would’ve found you. But you didn’t. You stayed. You came over here and put me between the door and yourself. Deep down, you trust me. Even if you don’t know why yet.

“I don’t know why your grandparents or uncle didn’t try harder to find you, and I don’t particularly care right this second. What I do care about is that I did find you. Or rather, you found me. And now that you’re here, I’ll do whatever it takes to give you back the life that was stolen from you fifteen years ago. You just have to have the strength and courage to want it too.”

She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t disagree with him either.

“We can’t leave for another day or two. We’ll stay here in the room and just talk. I’ll tell you about Colorado Springs, about myself, about my friends’ women . . . anything you want. I’ll show you how to use the computer, maybe set up an email account for you, and we’ll figure out our strategy for dealing with the press. We can even notify the lawyer who’s been in charge of your trust and warn him that you’ve been found, so he knows to start preparing the necessary documents so you can get your money. This might be tough, but this time you aren’t alone. Got it?”