Nicole Edwards: Zane

“You talk to V lately?” Now it was Braydon’s turn to ask questions.

“Not today, no.” Zane hadn’t talked to V in two months actually. They’d texted back and forth a couple of times, but even those had significantly declined in recent weeks. He’d been lucky yesterday because she had actually responded to two of his texts.

Ever since the day he woke up to find V sitting by his bedside, holding his hand, her tears dropping onto his fingers, Zane hadn’t seen her either. That day had been the one and only time he had physically laid eyes on her while he had been in the hospital, although his mother said V had remained by his bedside from the minute his parents gave the hospital permission to let her see him until the moment he woke up.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to speak for the first couple of days that he was awake, but he found a way to communicate as soon as Sawyer offered up his cell phone. For those two days, that was exactly how Zane communicated with everyone. Including V. The only difference was that once he was coherent and finally able to talk, he’d had the honor of talking to every single member of his family, his best friend Beau, and even Zoey, Kaleb’s fiancé, on a daily basis. But he hadn’t yet been able to say two words to V in person.

And since he came to, she’d become even more unresponsive as each day passed, to the point Zane had stopped texting her altogether. His attempt at interrogating both Zoey and Beau hadn’t worked either. Neither of them shared much information with Zane when he asked. The only thing he managed to pull out of Zoey was that V was doing fine and that she felt responsible for what happened to him, which she seemed to be having a hard time dealing with.

Her being responsible was so damn far from the truth, Zane was livid when Zoey had told him, and from what he remembered, he had told her as much. That might explain why V wasn’t showing her face or answering when he called. At least he hadn’t been stupid enough to leave her a voicemail telling her what he thought. It wasn’t V’s fault. That bastard Jake Sanders was responsible.

And his pussy ass friends.

It took a couple of weeks after he woke up for Zane to remember what happened. Once he did, the images continued to sneak up on him at the most inopportune times. Just thinking about how they came at him, all four armed with fucking tire irons, still pissed him off. But, Zane wasn’t all that worried about Jake and his band of losers. Not a single one of them had shown their face in town since that day, and he figured it would be a long time before they did.

Especially since, word was out that Travis Walker, Zane’s oldest brother, was looking for them.

Literally.

But Trav wasn’t going to be the only Walker looking for them. As soon as Zane was able to walk out of the hospital on his own two feet, he vowed to apply a little Walker retribution of his own.

As it turned out, that day was today.

“So you haven’t heard that Jake contacted her?” Braydon spoke, and Zane turned to look at him.

“ What? ”

“Kaleb mentioned it this morning. V seems to be blowing it off, but Zoey’s really worried.”

“What the hell did he say?”

“Don’t know for sure, but apparently he got her phone number somehow. Looks like he might’ve been the one behind the texts she was getting, too,” Braydon stated calmly, as though they were talking about the weather, sitting in the guest chair with his attention divided between the silent television and Zane’s face.

“Texts? When did she start receiving them?” What the fuck? No one told him anything about any damn texts.

Braydon managed to pry his face out of the television long enough to look back at Zane, but turned back again.

Fucking hell. Having a conversation with Braydon, or Brendon, for that matter, took a considerable amount of effort. Their attention spans were so damn short, it was a miracle they remembered their own fucking names.

“Don’t know. Ask her.”

He would ask her if she would answer her damn phone.

Zane grabbed his cell phone from the rollaway bedside table and ran through his contacts. With surprisingly nimble fingers, he typed out a text.

You better get your ass here to pick me up, or I’m walking.

Zane had had enough of this hell hole. If luck was on his side, Travis would answer the text quickly because it was time for Zane to blow this joint.

An hour and a half later, and not a second too soon, Zane was following Travis out into the brilliant Central Texas sunshine. He didn’t look back at the hospital, just continued to move his feet forward. His oldest brother had been kind enough to bring Zane a pair of jeans, his boots, and a t-shirt and for the first time in a long time, he actually felt like himself.

He’d been wearing his own clothes for the last month and a half while he was in the hospital, but never more than sweats or shorts. He figured there wasn’t any reason to get dressed more than that because someone was always poking and prodding, or sending him down to the rehabilitation center for a few minutes of “activity”.

The weather had changed a bit since he went in. No longer was it oppressively hot. Instead, it was mildly warm, but that’s what was to be expected in Texas. They didn’t have harsh winters because the severe weather was reserved for the blistering summers. Even in December he didn’t need a jacket. However, that could change overnight.

When they approached Travis’ Silverado pickup, Zane suddenly missed his own Jeep. It was strange to be outside, and even more so to be climbing into a vehicle. Three months were a long damn time to be cooped up inside of a building, never allowed to go too far because he was pretty sure they feared he’d run.

He would’ve.

“Need help getting in?” Travis smirked as he moved around to the driver’s door.

Zane grinned, shot Travis the finger, but didn’t say a word.

He never thought it possible, but he had missed his brothers harassing him. Being the youngest of seven, he was intimately familiar with the constant pestering and irritating comments that his brothers bestowed upon him. At twenty four, he’d had years to get used to it, although that was easier said than done. Although, at that moment, Zane didn’t necessarily hate the snide comments he knew would be directed at him. He actually welcomed them. At least for a little while.

“Where to?” Travis asked when they were pulling out of the hospital parking lot a minute later.

“V’s,” Zane said without hesitation. He hadn’t been able to do anything about her avoiding him for the last couple of months, but now that he was out of the hospital, he was the one who would be calling the shots from here on out.

“You sure?” Travis questioned, and Zane promptly hated his brother’s inquisition.

If Zane was smart, he would go home, get his Jeep and head over to V’s without involving his brother. It was apparent that he needed to acclimate to being out in the real world a little while longer before he opened his big mouth. Before he could say anything more, Travis’ phone was dialing through the Bluetooth speaker in the truck at his brother’s voice command.

Shit.

“You get him?” Kaleb’s voice reverberated through the interior of the truck, and Zane rolled his eyes. He was fucking twenty four years old, and it still galled him how much his brothers tried to baby him.

“Yep,” Travis replied.

“Y’all do realize I’m sitting right here?” Zane glared at his brother.

Travis didn’t even bother to look at him, but both Kaleb’s and Travis’ laughter filled the truck.

Zane couldn’t help but smile.

It felt damn good to be back.