With Every Heartbeat
“Evening again, Mr. Hamilton. Did you ever find Miss Zoey?”
“Yeah,” I murmured as I passed. And then I’d made the ultimate mistake of walking away and hurting her.
Henry glanced curiously over Noel, Asher, and Ten as they followed me inside, but he didn’t say anything about their presence.
Once the four of us were packed into the elevator and waiting to reach the eighth floor, Noel glanced at me. “So, what’re you going to say to her?”
I didn’t want to say anything to Cora. I didn’t even want to look at her, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to get back to Zoey’s room for her things without getting past her.
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
“Well, I know what I want to say to her,” Ten started, but I held up a hand in warning and shot him a look.
“I’ll take care of her. None of you say a goddamn word.”
Ten opened his mouth to argue, but in the next instant, the elevator let out a ding and stopped, admitting us to the eighth floor. I ignored him and the other two as we marched to 8E. Then I had to pause in front of Cora’s door and wipe my hands over my face to collect myself before knocking. I’d be winging this big time because I still had no idea what to say.
I still wanted to hurt her, to wrap my hands around her neck and never stop squeezing. But I was going to be civil. At least, I was going to try to be civil.
Cora opened the door, wearing Zoey’s nightshirt, the one that liked to slip off one shoulder and expose her perfect creamy skin. I growled at her. And civil went right out the window. But seeing her in Zoey’s clothes made me lose my temper all over again. Plus my skin crawled big-time over the creepy Single White Female thing she had going on. When she pushed out her chest as soon as she saw it was me, displaying the fact she wasn’t wearing a bra, I snorted.
“You really are pathetic,” I couldn’t help but say.
She opened her eyes to respond, but a surprised Ten exploded from behind me. “What the fuck happened to your face?”
Cora glared past me toward him. “None of your damn business.” Then she blinked up at me. “What’re you doing here?”
She was embarrassed by the bruise. I suddenly realized how she’d gotten it. “Zoey gave it to you. Didn’t she?”
“Damn,” Ten murmured as if impressed. Then he slugged me in the center of the back. “Blondie gives a better black eye than you do, Ham.”
I ignored him. My icy gaze on Cora made her step back. I couldn’t even imagine what she’d done to sweet, pacifistic Zoey to make her lash out as she had. “I’m getting her things,” I said. “Now.”
When I took a decisive step forward, she dodged out of my way with a squeak. But a second later as Noel, Ten and Asher filed in behind me, Cora sniffed at us as if unimpressed, even though I could see in her eyes that we spooked her. She wasn’t sure how much she could push me tonight. Zoey must’ve really rattled her by fighting back; she wasn’t sure if I would too.
“I should’ve known she’d give you a sob story about what happened so you’d feel all sympathetic toward her,” she muttered.
“You mean, you should’ve known she’d give me the truth,” I deadpanned before I strode past her down the hall.
“Hey!” She snagged my arm. “I didn’t say you could go down there.”
I shrugged her off. “So stop me.”
She didn’t. She merely sniffed as Ten, Noel and Asher followed me.
After seeing her in Zoey’s clothes, I’d been forewarned that she’d been in Zoey’s room, but I still wasn’t expecting what I saw. Shock made my jaw drop as I jerked to a stop in the opened doorway.
All of Zoey’s clothes had been dragged out of her closet and drawers. They’d been slashed with scissors or a knife, something sharp. So had her bedding and pillows. But what dug into my gut the deepest was seeing the shelf above her bed bare. All the notebooks full of stories she’d written were now strewn across the room and torn to shreds, making the place look as if it was covered in confetti.
“No.” I set my hand over my heart, feeling the loss of Zoey’s precious words stabbing me through the chest.
“Holy shit,” Noel breathed from behind him.
Ten stepped around me and entered the room. “What the fuck?” He picked up the metal ring from one notebook, the only thing left of it. When he glanced at me, I swallowed.
“Her stories,” I said. “She wrote stories.”