"What the fuck do you mean he's out on fucking bail?"

"Keep your voice down!"

A string of profanities, fainter now but still audible. "That's fucking bullshit. How the fuck did he make bail?"

"They lowered it for some reason. No priors. Clean record. Fuck if I know. Maybe the judge just got laid and was in a good mood."

"No record? He almost fucking killed her! He fucking stabbed her! He beat the shit out of her."

"You think I don't know that? I'm just the fucking messenger, don't take it out on me."

More profanities, even quieter. Haley strained her ears but she couldn't make out the other words, not with the bedroom door closed. The only way she'd be able to listen was to get out of bed and walk over and open the door. If she did that, they'd stop talking.

It didn't matter anyway, because the second voice belonged to Jason. And if Jason was here, that meant Megan was here. Which meant her friend would be coming through that door in three, two, one—

"Hey. You awake?" Megan pushed the door open and peeked inside, her voice quiet enough that she wouldn't disturb Haley if she was sleeping.

Which she wasn't.

"Yeah. Come on in." Haley pushed herself to a sitting position, wincing when she accidentally put weight on her left hand. God, she was so sick of the cast. So sick of being sore every single time she moved the wrong way. Sick of being treated like an invalid. Sick of being stuck in the bed or followed around every time she left the room.

Three weeks had passed. The stitches had been removed and the bruises were fading. Yes, the cast was still on her wrist. Yes, she still woke in the middle of the night, screaming or crying. Zach would reach for her, hold her close and whisper reassuring words in her ear until she fell back asleep, safely tucked in his arms.

But she was tired of it. So tired.

Megan walked over to the bed and gently sat on the edge, like she was afraid of jostling the mattress too much. Haley choked back a laugh. Yeah, that would be the only jostling this mattress had seen in the last three weeks.

And oh God, was she really going to complain about that? After everything Zach had done for her? Staying with her in the hospital? Bringing her home? Taking care of her every single minute when he was here, or making sure Megan was with her if he had a game or practice?

Not that he had any more games. The season was over, had ended a week ago. Which meant Zach was with her all the time now.

Haley wasn't sure how she felt about that.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine."

"You look better."

"Compared to what? Frankenstein's monster?"

Megan choked back a laugh. "You shouldn't say things like that."

"Why? It's the truth. At least the stitches are out and I can eat now."

"You never looked like Frankenstein—you didn't have those disgusting bolts sticking out of your neck."

Haley laughed then winced again. Okay, so maybe there were some lingering aches and pains still. They weren't anything she couldn't handle.

"I brought you something." Megan reached into her tote bag and brought her hand out with a flourish. A chocolate bar rested in the middle of her palm—dark chocolate, with almonds. And not one of the regular size bars, either. This one was king sized, big and thick.

Haley snatched it out of her hand and tore it open. She snapped off a piece and popped it into her mouth, then broke off another piece and gave it to Megan. Rich, creamy. Absolute perfection.

She finished chewing then glanced at the open door. "How'd you sneak it past the warden?"

"Who?"

"You know—Zach. The warden."

"Why are you calling him that?"

"Why? Because he won't let me out of his sight. He's worried something will happen. Worried I might fall or bang into something or who knows what."

"He's just worried about you."

"I know." Haley swallowed, wondering if her face was heating from embarrassment. Had she sounded ungrateful? Probably. "I'm just getting antsy. I'm not used to being cooped up. I'm not used to being waited on."

"It's only been three weeks, Haley. You need to give yourself time to heal." 

"What I need is to get back to work."

"You're kidding me, right? You're not ready for work. Not even close. Your wrist is—"

"I can carry a tray one-handed, as long as it's not overloaded. You know that. You've seen me do it before."

"It's not the same. I think you need to wait—"

"I need to get out of here. I'm going crazy. I'm not used to just sitting still."

"Maybe this will help." Megan reached back into the bag and pulled out two paperbacks. "I know you've read them already but they're still good."

Haley tried to smile but the effort failed. She released a heavy sigh, leaned to the side, and grabbed the e-reader next to her pillow. "Thanks, but I already have them. And probably at least another hundred books on here."

"When did you get that?"

"Last week. Zach gave it to me, then went online and started buying a ton of books."

"That was sweet of him."

"Yeah. I guess. Also expensive. I don't know if I can pay him back."

"I don't think he expects you to pay him back, Haley."

"Doesn't matter. That's another reason I need to get back to work. I need money."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not? Because you think I'm helpless?"

"No. Of course not." Megan hesitated, a small frown creasing her forehead. She glanced over her shoulder then leaned closer, lowering her voice. "It's Jimmy. He's—"

"Out on bail. Yeah. I heard."

"Oh." Megan frowned again. "That doesn't worry you?"

Worry her? No, it terrified her. It made her want to lock herself in this room and never go out again because if she did, she'd always be looking over her shoulder. Always wondering where he was. Always waiting for him to come after her again.

But she couldn't admit that to Megan. She had a hard enough time admitting it to herself. She didn't want to live that way.

She wouldn't live that way.

"I have a restraining order against him—"

"Which isn't worth the paper it's printed on. That won't stop him." Zach's voice was hard, unforgiving. He leaned against the doorway, watching her, a muscle jumping in his clenched jaw. Haley tried to look away but the strength of his gaze held her immobile. He was angry, yes, but not at her. And under the anger, she saw worry. And fear. And something else she'd been noticing more frequently: guilt.

She didn't want to admit it, wanted to pretend she wasn't seeing it, that she was confusing it for something else. But she couldn't deny it, not any longer. Guilt was tearing him apart, bit by bit, a little more each day.

But why? That's what she didn't understand. He had no reason to feel guilty. She didn't bother to ask, not when she instinctively knew he wouldn't answer her, not when she was certain he'd deny it.

"I can't stay locked up in here, Zach. I'm going crazy. I need to get back to work. I need to get outside. To go home."

Pain flashed in his eyes again, slicing through her. Haley pulled her gaze from his and looked at Megan, silently seeking her support. But Megan was staring down at her foot, her fingers toying with the laces of her green-checked Chucks.

"It's not a good idea, Haley. Not until he's locked up."

"I can't stay here—"

Jason stepped into the room, talking right over her. "You still have that property up by the lake, right?"

"Yeah."

"So then why don't you go there? Just for a few weeks. Take a break. That way, Haley won't feel cooped up here, and there's no danger from that asshole."

"That's an idea. We could take my bike up, take in the sights—"

"No." Haley raised her voice. "No. I'm not going anywhere."

All three of them turned toward her with varying expressions of surprise on their faces. Like they just realized she was there, like they forgot she existed.

Like she was incapable of making her own decisions or living her own life.

She blinked back the sudden tears burning her eyes and focused on Zach. "This isn't your decision. You can't just tell me what I need to do. You can't decide where I go or when I leave. Don't you understand that?"

Zach moved closer to the bed, concern etched on his face. "I'm just worried about you. I don't want anything to happen to you again."

"I know that, Zach. I do. But you can't control everything I do. That's what Jimmy—" Her mouth snapped shut, cutting off the careless words, but it was too late. Pain flashed in Zach's eyes and he stepped back, like she had physically hit him. And oh God, what had she done? She didn't mean it like that, not even close. But she couldn't take the words back, couldn't think of anything to say to explain them.

Megan slid off the bed, not saying a word as she headed toward the door, grabbing Jason and pulling him behind her. Seconds later, Haley heard the front door open and close, felt the heavy silence of the empty condo settle over her and Zach.

He was still watching her, his face carefully blank, doing his best to hide the pain and the shock glittering in his dark eyes.

"I didn't mean it that way, Zach."

"Yeah? Then how did you mean it?"

"I just—" Her voice trailed off, her mind still struggling for the right words.

"You think I'm trying to control you?"

"No." She took a deep breath, looked down at the comforter covering her legs. Zach's comforter. Zach's bed. Zach's condo. The e-reader on the mattress next to her, purchased by Zach. Loaded with books purchased by Zach. Even the clothes she had on, a cute little pajama set covered with playful frogs, were courtesy of Zach.

"Then what? Tell me. Because you have no idea how I'm dying over here, wondering how you could even think of comparing me to him." His voice was hoarse, choked with emotion that squeezed her heart and brought tears to her eyes. This wasn't the Zach she knew. This wasn't the terminally constipated hockey player she butted heads with.

She didn't know who he was. All she knew was that she missed the other Zach. 

"I'm not comparing you to him. God, I'm not. You're nothing like him, Zach. Never. I know that."

"Then what? What did you mean?"

"I meant—" What did she mean? She didn't know. Or rather, she did—she just couldn't find the right words.

"Haley, please. Tell me."

"Why don't you call me Red anymore?"

Zach's head snapped up. The confusion in his eyes matched her own at the question. "What?"

"You never used to call me Haley, not until—not since Jimmy attacked me." And oh God, why was it so hard to say those words out loud? Why was just saying them enough to coat her skin in a cold sweat and send a shiver of panic racing along her spine?

She took a deep breath and forced the words from her mouth. "You haven't called me Red since Jimmy attacked me. You're afraid to let me out of your sight. You're rushing out to get me things I don't even need, buying things I would never buy for myself."

"Haley—"

"Stop! Stop calling me that." She kicked the covers from her legs and climbed out of bed, anger and frustration welling deep inside her, pushing their way out even though she wasn't sure why she was angry.

"I don't know what's going on, Zach. Everything's changed between us. Six months ago, we were butting heads. Six weeks ago, we were sleeping together. And now—now it's like you're afraid I'm going to crumble at the least little thing. I don't understand. I don't know what's changed."

Zach ignored her outburst and hurried to her side, his hands reaching for. Like she wasn't capable of standing. Like she wasn't capable of taking care of herself.

She brushed his hands away and stepped back. "Don't touch me. I don't need your help. I can get out of my bed on my own."

"I don't want you to get hurt again."

"So what if I do? So what if I fall down? Or bump into something? Or stub my toe or hit my wrist? So what? It won't be the end of the world, Mummy. I'll survive."

"I know you will. That doesn't mean I want to see you hurt again. I couldn't handle that, not if I knew there was something I could do to prevent it." There it was again, that flash of guilt in his eyes. Sharp and painful. For him. For her.

"Is that what this is about?"

"What?"

"This. All of it." She waved her arm around the room, taking in everything and nothing. "Buying me things. Not wanting me to be left alone. Is it because you think you'd be responsible if something happened?"

"I would be—"

"No, Zach, you wouldn't be." She swallowed around the lump in her throat. "No more than you're responsible for what Jimmy did to me. I don't want your guilt. I don't need your guilt. So if that's what all this is about, just let me go home now."

Zach was silent for a long time. So long, Haley was certain he wasn't going to answer. She nodded, took a step back and ran a shaking hand through her hair. She started to say something, not exactly sure what stupid words would fall from her mouth this time, when Zach finally spoke.

"Guilt? Guilt?" His voice climbed, growing louder as he started pacing in a tight circle. "Yeah, Haley, I feel guilty. You have no idea how fucking guilty. You wouldn't have been hurt if not for me. None of this would have happened if not for me."

She stared at him, her mouth hanging open, disbelief freezing her in place. Zach kept moving, back and forth, back and forth. He paused, ran his hands over his head, started pacing again.

"Jesus fucking Christ. Don't you get it? This happened because of me." His voice cracked and he choked, turning away from her.

"What are you talking about?" She could barely get the words through her clogged throat. Maybe they weren't loud enough because he didn't move, gave no indication of hearing her. She stepped closer, placed her hand on his arm. His body stiffened, the muscle bulging under her fingers. Tight, tense, his whole body vibrating with it.

"Your fault? Zach, none of it is your fault. If there's anyone to blame besides Jimmy, it's me. I should have never listened to him after he hit me the first time. Or the second or the third. I should have called the police. I should have filed a report or asked for a restraining order." She swallowed and wiped a hand across her eyes, surprised when her fingers came away wet.

"I should have never opened the door. I should have looked first. I should have slammed it in his face. Or pushed him down the stairs. Or screamed. Or—or fought harder or..." The words died in her throat, unable to get past the growing lump. It didn't matter. The list was endless. There were so many things she could have done and didn't.

"It's my fault, Zach. Not yours."

He spun around, caught her arm and pulled her against him, trying to hold her. But she stepped back. "Haley—"

"No. I don't want your guilt. It wasn't your fault. I don't want it, okay? There is nothing for you to feel guilty about—"

"If I had been there, if I hadn't stopped at the bar first—"

"What? You think you would have stopped him? You wouldn't have, Zach—because he would have never showed up. He would have waited until another time when I was alone. You know that."

"No, I don't. I don't know that at all. The police don't know that, they're just speculating—"

"Bullshit, Zach. It's not your fault. My God, if it hadn't been for you showing up when you did, who knows what might have happened? Who knows if anyone would have found me? I could have died. It could have been a lot worse. But it wasn't, because you were there. So don't tell me it was your fault."

Haley didn't push against him when he pulled her into his arms this time. She just leaned against him, her tears leaving a damp stain on his shirt, and held onto him as he rocked her. She felt herself being lifted, tightened her hands around his shoulders as he carried her to the bed and sat down with her. Cradling her. Comforting her until her tears slowly dried.

"I was scared." The words were quiet, nothing more than the barest whisper of breath against her temple. She tried to look up, felt Zach shake his head as his arms tightened around her.

"More than scared. When I walked in and saw you lying there—" He took a deep breath, swallowed. "I was so afraid you were dead. And part of me died, Haley. Right there next to you. I didn't know what to do. I freaked out. I lost it. And when I saw you breathing, saw all the blood—"

He hesitated, his voice shaking. And quiet, so quiet. His arms tightened around her again, almost painfully tight, but Haley didn't say anything. She was afraid to move, afraid to breathe.

Afraid of what he might say next.

"I swore, right then and there, that I would do anything to protect you. To keep you safe. To make sure nothing would ever happen to you again."

"Oh God, Zach." She shifted in his arms, finally sat up enough so that she could at look at him. The breath froze in her chest when she saw the tears in his dark eyes, when she noticed the way he tried to blink them back. The way the muscle jumped in his cheek because he was clenching his jaw so tight.

She cupped his cheek with her good hand, felt the warm skin under her palm. The flesh and muscle and bone of his cheek. The faint roughness of the stubble on his jaw. Real. Alive.

Her heart expanded in her chest, a true physical ache that made it hard to breathe, hard to think. Did she love him? She was afraid of the answer, afraid of what it would mean if she said yes. Afraid that maybe she was twisting things and calling it love when it was really something different. What did she know about love?

Nothing. Not a damn thing.

But what she did know was that imagining life without Zach left an ache deep inside her unlike any she had ever before experienced.

Was it enough?

She didn't know.

"Zach, I don't want your protection. I don't want you to keep me safe. And I don't want your guilt."

"But—"

"What I want is the obnoxious, terminally constipated, pain-in-the-ass who used to annoy me. What I want is for you to call me Red in that sexy voice you always use. What I want is the way things were. I—I think what he did might stay with me longer than I want it to. I need a constant to fight that off. I need something to rely on, something that won't change."

He watched her for a long minute, his gaze clear and intense and filled with emotion. Was she really seeing it, or was it just wishful thinking? She didn't know. And right now, it didn't matter.

A slow smile teased the corners of his mouth, wicked and sensual and oddly boyish. "Sexy voice?"

Haley laughed, the sound a little rusty, but still a laugh. "Maybe."

"I thought you hated it when I called you Red."

"Not really."

"Terminally constipated?"

"Pretty much."

Zach chuckled. The sound wrapped around her, blanketing her with warmth, chasing away the chill that had been with her for the last three weeks. He leaned forward, pressed a gentle kiss against her lips, pulled away too soon.

"Haley, I lo—"

She placed her fingers against his mouth, stopping him. "Don't. Not yet. It's too soon."

"But—"

"No buts. Show me instead." She wrapped her free hand around his neck and pulled his head down to hers.

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't. You'd never hurt me."

Zach hesitated, but only for a second. Then his mouth was on hers. Soft, tender. Growing warmer, sending wave after wave of sensation crashing over her. He deepened the kiss, swept his tongue inside hers. Slow, deep, hot.

He fell back, cradling her, his rough hands warm and gentle.

Showing her, just like she had asked.