Trusting Zane Page 5

  “These are great. Thanks,” he said, pulling out a chair next to Tyler and grabbing a cookie. “Who’s winning?” he asked with a nod toward the pile of cards in front of them.

  “Nobody,” Grace said as she rearranged her cards. “I’m still teaching them how to play and until they’re comfortable, we’re not keeping score.”

  “You don’t know how to play Go Fish?” Zane asked, glancing down at them.

  “We weren’t allowed to touch the cards. They were for the adults and on poker nights only,” Tyler said, cradling his cards as if they were fragile eggs in his hands.

  “No kids’ cards?” Zane said, finding it hard to believe that they didn’t have so much as a set of Old Maid cards or something.

  “No. Mom said there was no money for silly kids’ stuff that we’d just ruin anyway,” Tyler said.

  He didn’t even know Chloe anymore. They’d grown up with every board game under the sun. Their parents had showered them with Disney movies, extracurricular sports, vacations, anything they could ever want.

  They had a three-room tree house that made them the envy of all of their friends.

  She’d been showered with excess, and what did she give her children?

  Disappointment and pain.

  “Well, you know what I think about that?” He shoved the whole cookie in his mouth and let it push his lips out. He had to look ridiculous, but if it made a dent in the solemn faces before him, he’d toss himself on the pyre of humiliation as often as it took.

  Brielle looked up at him with a wide, shocked gaze, her cookie frozen in her hand.

  The flicker of encouragement had him upping the ante by crossing his eyes and pulling out both of his ears.

  Her pale, freckled face scrunched up, and she smiled with a sweet giggle—far and away the best sound in the entire world.

  Grace’s wink told him it was a good start.

  The kids finished their snacks, and Grace set them up in the den at the coffee table with a SpongeBob puzzle.

  “Where did that come from?” Zane asked as they sorted the pieces.

  Grace rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “I had Peter pick up a couple things and drop them off. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “No, really, I appreciate it,” Zane said, sliding his hands in his pockets.

  “I don’t know what happened to that little girl or what she saw, but men terrify her. It’s heartbreaking,” Grace said in a broken whisper.

  “I know, and I don’t have one clue what to do for her. It shouldn’t be Tyler’s job to comfort her all the time; he needs comforting of his own, but she’s so scared of me, I don’t think she’s going to let me get close to her,” Zane said, the frustration building inside him until his blood hammered in his ears.

  “You need a female buffer,” Grace said.

  Zane scrubbed his hand down his face. “I need their mother safe and with her head on straight.”

  “That too. In the meantime, I’ll help in any way I can. First things first. There is some shopping to do. Both for your refrigerator and for them. They need clothes. What they have is threadbare in places. They need toiletries, toys, and books,” Grace said, reaching in her purse for a pad and pen.

  Didn’t Brielle need a car seat for him to even do that? A booster seat at least. Not that the little girl would go anywhere with him. “I don’t think I can get them to a store just yet. I mean, did you see how they reacted when I answered the door?”

  She sighed. “Yes, I did. They did it again when Peter stopped by. It’s tragic. Have you told your parents?”

  The doorbell chimed. Zane and Grace glanced into the den to find Tyler in full protection mode, wrapping himself around Brielle and crawling under the table, the movements as automatic as breathing for them.

  “Those poor loves. I can’t imagine your parents would appreciate you keeping this from them,” Grace said, biting her lip.

  “My parents refuse to believe my sister has had a hand in any of the crap that happens to her. They make excuses and paint her as misunderstood,” he said as he headed for the door.

  “But one look at these kids and what they’re going through—”

  “Would break my parents. The denial is deep. Maybe just as deep as my sister’s.”

  “It needs to be addressed,” Grace said.

  “It does, but one thing at a time,” Zane said, flipping the monitor. “Son of a bitch.”

  “What?” Grace asked, stepping up next to him.

  “It’s the social worker,” Zane said.

  “Oh.”

  “Oh, that’s all you have to say?” he said, flicking a glance over his shoulder.

  Grace shrugged with a sly smile. “She’s pretty.”

  “Don’t go there,” Zane warned her.

  “She’s also a social worker. Might be a good buffer between you and the kids until I come back,” Grace pointed out.

  “No.”

  The door rattled at Kinsley’s insistent knock. “I see your car, and I can hear you chattering. I know you’re in there, and I’m not leaving.”

  Grace let out a chuckle. “She’s got a backbone, too. She’ll need that dealing with you. You might have just met your match.”

  Zane pulled open the door. The sight of Kinsley stripped of her business clothes and instead standing in the doorway in a pair of snug jeans, Pink Floyd T-shirt pulled tight across round breasts, and her waves pulled into a high ponytail, the ends dangling over her shoulder, had him grinding his teeth even as parts south panted for more. “Do you realize every time the doorbell rings, those kids go into survival mode like they’re doing a bomb drill?”

  Kinsley stuck out her chin, but her lip wobbled. “I didn’t, but I’m partly responsible, so I’m here to do whatever I can to fix it.”

  “This isn’t the job for a Band-Aid, lady.”

  Wounded blue eyes didn’t hide. Didn’t deny. “I know. I screwed up. I’d like a chance to help make it right.”

  “Listen—”

  “Now you stop that,” Grace said, giving him a hard shove to the side. “Kinsley, is that your name? I’m Grace. Zane’s next-door neighbor.”

  “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for letting me in,” Kinsley said, stepping over the threshold with a pointed look at Zane.

  “Absolutely. It’s the polite thing to do,” Grace said, her gaze hard on him, making heat creep up until his ears burned. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some shopping to do while you two work this out. Zane,” Grace said, aiming a pointed look at him, “be on your best behavior. You’d both do good to remember there are two frightened children huddling in the den right now who can’t take one more minute of this.”

  Grace stepped out and quietly closed the door behind her, leaving them both chastised.

  “I had nuns that used to rap my knuckles almost daily, and they never scared me as much as the look your neighbor just gave us,” Kinsley said.

  “Didn’t I tell you to contact my attorney? Between this and what you did to my niece and nephew, should I just assume you suck at directions or?”

  Kinsley dropped her hands to her hips as fire lit in her eyes. “Why don’t I just stand here, and you throw it in my face as many times as you need to in order to get it out of your system. Then we can look back on all the time you wasted being bitter and angry and wonder why the hell we weren’t behaving as adults who wanted the absolute best for Tyler and Brielle.”

  He aimed to push her buttons, maybe even drive her away, but her stance and the heat with which she delivered her words said that she was staying right there, and short of him calling the police and actually pressing charges, she was in this thing for the duration.

  “Fine, you can see them for a few minutes; you’ll see that they’re fine, and then you can leave.”

  “Not happening. Chloe was adamant about these kids not being with you, and until I see something significant in you that indicates to me that she pegged you all wrong, I’m not going anywhere. Plus, the case is still open. There are steps that need to be taken to settle this.”

  “Wait, so you plan to monitor me. Is that what you’re suggesting?”

  “Yes,” she said, her gaze searching around the house, looking for who knows what.

  There was no way she was going to be under his roof indefinitely. And if she caught wind of what was going to go down tonight, planning to not only find his sister, but extract her from whatever mess she’d ended up in, she’d be whisking those kids away from him in a heartbeat.

  Brielle’s giggle from just a few minutes earlier echoed in his head. He could do this. There was no way Kinsley would take that away from him. “No.”

  She shrugged and looked him straight in the eye. “Well, then I can just go to my supervisor and tell her exactly what happened. She’ll have the legal right to inspect the home no matter what county it’s in and determine if you’re fit since it’s still an open case.”

  “And you’d lose your job for having left them with Chloe to begin with,” he pointed out, sure he would win this round.

  “Yes, I would,” she said quietly. “But at least I would not have let them stay with someone unfit a second time. I won’t make that mistake again. No matter what it takes.”

  Chapter 7

  You’re in it now, girl.

  Kinsley didn’t kid herself. She knew the only reason she made it through the door was Zane’s neighbor, Grace.

  Grace, she liked.

  Zane, well, that was a whole other matter. In just two short exchanges, he’d skyrocketed to the top of the list of the most stubborn souls she’d met in her twenty-five years.

  Too bad every time he stuck out that stubborn chin of his and took on that brooding, sullen stance, he also rocketed himself to the top of the sexy beast list, too.

  “Where are Tyler and Brielle?”

  His lip curled, and a low rumble slipped from his throat.

  “Did you just growl at me?” she asked.

  “No,” he said, turning his back to her and heading down a wide hall leading back to the white and stainless-steel and marble kitchen that, that from a glimpse, looked worthy of a magazine spread.

  “Yes, you did,” she said, reaching out and snagging the edge of his shirt, yanking it just a bit out of his pants.

  Sizable feet skidded to a stop. He looked over his shoulder and glanced down at the hand she still had on him.

  “You can act like a junkyard dog all you want. You’ll get no such warning from me. I don’t growl; I bite.” She pushed past him and spotted the kids around the corner in a den off the dining room. Tyler sat on the corner of the sofa, his eyes locked on the doorjamb, Brielle snuggled in his arms.

  They reminded her of those shelter commercials with dogs shivering in cages. Just the sight of them huddled together like they were adrift in a scary world with only each other to count on hurt enough, but her mind raced at the worst-case scenarios of what turned them into this.

  The last time she had seen them, they had a wary look in their eyes, but this went so much further than that.

  “This is my fault,” she whispered.

  Zane stepped up next to her and glanced down but said nothing.

  Not that she expected him to make this easy for her. She’d made this mess, and she certainly wasn’t trying to make any of this easier on him.

  God, these kids needed the adults in their world to get their shit together, and even now, she and Zane railed against one another instead of unifying in the way that was vital for Tyler and Brielle to thrive.

  That had to change. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she took care to step softly and keep her movements slow and casual on her way to sit down next to them.

  Zane’s gaze never left her. She didn’t see it with her own eyes, but she felt the suspicion trailing over her, wrapping around her, stifling her shallow breath.

  Be the example.

  “Hi, Tyler, Brielle,” she said, dipping her head to peek at Brielle’s worried face. “Do you remember me?” she asked.

  “You’re Miss Scott with the county,” Tyler said. Seven years old going on seventy. Pale and slouched, life had already beaten Tyler down so hard, he looked ready to collect social security. He’d taken on this pseudo parent role in a world where he had none of the power of an actual adult. The toll had been devastating.

  When she saw kids at this age, typically they displayed an air of defiance, but not Tyler. He exuded a quiet acceptance for the situation and for taking on the responsibility of nurturing his four-year-old sister.

  Brielle adjusted in his arms and watched Kinsley with solemn eyes.

  “That’s right. I’m here to check on you,” she said, giving them a reassuring smile.

  “Are you going to take us away?” Tyler asked, casting a worried glance toward the doorway.

  She would if she needed to, but she didn’t have to tell them that right at the moment. “No one is taking you anywhere. Why, do you like it here?”

  “Grace made us cookies,” Brielle whispered.

  “Mmmmm, cookies are my absolute favorite. What kind did she make?” Kinsley said, smoothing Brielle’s bangs out of her face.

  Brielle, bless her, didn’t flinch.

  Kinsley filed it away in her heart as a small victory. Hopefully, one of many to come for these kids whether they were here or elsewhere.

  “Chocolate chip,” Tyler said, glancing up at Zane and back at Kinsley as if he were studying the barely banked disdain sizzling between them.

  Brielle pointed at her uncle. “He did something funny with his,” she said with a giggle.

  Kinsley glanced over at Zane in time to see his lips twitch and the wink he shot to his niece. Kinsley’s breath hitched at the hint of warmth, and a part of her, a part deep inside, sighed.

  His gaze locked on her, and he went right back to his rigid stance and icy stare.

  “I don’t know if I believe that. He doesn’t seem all that funny to me,” Kinsley said.

  “He is. He put the whole thing in his mouth and stuck his ears out like a chimp,” Brielle said, pushing out of Tyler’s arms and leaning toward Kinsley. “Maybe he’ll eat another one and show you.”

  “I don’t know. I think maybe that’s something he does special for people he loves,” Kinsley said.

  Brielle pinched her lips together and tilted her head, her hair falling over her shoulder. “He doesn’t love us,” she said.

  Kinsley swallowed hard. “Why wouldn’t he love you? He’s your uncle.”

  “But he doesn’t know us,” Brielle said.

  “It’s different when you’re related. They don’t need to be close to love you. You’re their family. You come from them. They always love you and care about you even if they don’t get to see you.” Kinsley tried to reassure her despite knowing nothing about Zane’s heart.

  “Our mother doesn’t even love us, and she saw us every day,” Tyler said.

  Zane sucked in a breath behind her.

  So the man did have a soft spot. Only he buried it under so much anger, he made it next to impossible to find.

  Kinsley cupped the boy’s chin, his soft skin cool under her hand. “Oh, Tyler… I promise you your mother loves you. She hasn’t always done the right things, but she loves you. Right, Zane?” Kinsley said, hinting to the man to back her up.

  When she glanced over her shoulder, she found him standing there, his lips pressed tight, stubbornly silent.

  These kids needed to hear this, not for the purpose of defending his sister who, after their conversation earlier in the day, he had a ton of animosity for, but so they didn’t completely give up on feeling worthy of love.

  “Zane?” she said, putting some force into her voice.

  “She loves you. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have gone through what she did to get you to me,” he finally admitted in a quiet rumble from behind her.

  Tyler turned away as if he didn’t dare to believe either of them.

  She scooted to the edge of her chair and glanced between Zane and the kids. “So, about those cookies I heard so much about. Are there any left?”

  Zane stood at the edge of the kitchen while Kinsley ate a second round of snacks with the kids. With every glance at their skinny bodies, he fought the urge to put food in front of them—like he could really undo all the times they went to bed hungry.

  Not that they said they had, but he didn’t kid himself into believing for a minute that despite all the other ways they suffered, the one thing Chloe got just right was making sure her kids had three meals a day and snacks in between.

  Well, they’d never miss a meal in his house, and if he had his way, they’d never miss a meal again.

  They deserved to have everything he and Chloe had as kids and then some. He couldn’t remember a night of his own childhood when they all didn’t sit down for dinner together.

  Sure, there were times a practice ran late or a school event squeezed them for time, but even if all they had time for was a bucket of fried chicken and bagged salad, they made time to fit it in, and they ate as a family.

  He propped himself against the wall, content to give Brielle her space. If he took a seat, her face would scrunch up, and her sage eyes turned wary. How many times could a kid flip from cautious comfort to being on edge in one day?

  He didn’t intend to find out.

  He’d rather watch from a distance as she grew more comfortable, and he couldn’t deny the child gravitated toward women. He had to admit, at least to himself, that Kinsley being here might be just what it took to get them through this adjustment.

  Sliding his cell from his pocket, he swiped the screen and spotted a message from Dylan.

  We have some information to share. The rest of the team would like to meet you. I don’t imagine you have a sitter. What if we met at your place? We’ll bring pizza.

  They’d all be in his space. More concerning, they’d all be in Brielle’s. Tyler seemed to do a whole lot better with people, other than the fear of people on the other side of the door.

  Zane shifted and glanced over to see the kids looking at something on Kinsley’s phone.

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