Page 88 of Beautiful Killer

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Sunny

“Welcome to Roxford,” Zeke muttered beside me.

I glanced at him. He’d been quiet, contemplative, the whole trip. But after hearing him on the phone to his mother, the fear I’d heard in his voice, that wasn’t really a surprise.

“Are you okay?” I asked. “I know you’re worried about your dad, but your mom said he was doing okay?”

He was quiet a few seconds, then he glanced at me, and then back at the road. “Yeah, I’m worried.” Zeke drew in a shaky breath. “My dad and me, we’ve always been close, you know. Could talk about anything. I haven’t seen him in a long time—shit, I’ve barely talked to him. He’s not big on using the phone, and I . . .” His jaw tightened. “I should have made more of an effort.”

“Life gets in the way sometimes. I’m sure he understands.” God, I could see how stressed he was. “He’s going to be so happy to see you.”

More silence, and I thought that he was finished sharing, but then he surprised me by carrying on.

“My dad, he’s always been larger than life.” He glanced at me again. “I’ve looked up to him since I can remember, wanted to be just like him.” He sucked in a sharp breath. “I’m not. I let him down, then I vanished.”

“Zeke . . .” I didn’t know what to say.

Zeke’s strong fingers flexed around the steering wheel. “I walked away and I wasn’t here when they needed me most.”

I touched his arm, trying to offer comfort, and the muscle there bunched under my fingers. “They won’t see it that way,” I said. “They love you. They’ll just be happy to have you home.”

He dipped his chin, but said no more.

Nerves assaulted me as I turned away and stared out the window. God, so much had happened in the last twenty-four hours, I’d barely had a chance to process it all. The man who broke into my house was dead, and Zeke . . .

I still couldn’t believe what he said to me. “I want you here, with me, every night, every morning.”

Did he really feel that way? I wanted to trust him, believe in him so badly. Could I? Could I really try and make something real with Zeke, something lasting?

Another wave of nerves hit me.

Meeting his parents was huge. They thought we were already together. I inwardly winced. Was he going to tell them about the baby while we were here? What would he say about our relationship? Would he tell them the truth? I hadn’t asked; with how worried he was, there’d never been a right time. I focused on controlling my butterflies and took in the town of Roxford. I liked it, instantly. Beaches and palm trees, cool, off-beat colored houses. He’d explained on the flight here how busy the town was over the summer months, but in the off-season, it was the complete opposite. Which meant, right now, it was quiet, peaceful. I drew in a deep breath. I loved that I could smell the ocean. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d done that. It really was beautiful.

“This must have been a pretty cool place to grow up?” I said.

He drew in a deep breath, and the expression on his face made me think that it’d only just sunk in that he was here. Home. I couldn’t tell if he was happy about that or not. If he was happy to be home, he certainly wasn’t outwardly showing it. But then Zeke never really gave away much of anything.

Finally, he said, “Yeah.”

It wasn’t very convincing. “When were you last home?” I asked.

His fingers flexed around the steering wheel and a muscle jumped in his jaw. “Over a year ago.”

I bit my lip. I guess he hadn’t been all fired up to come home and possibly run into his cheating ex?

He indicated, drove down a short street then indicated again, turning into a driveway.

Oh God, we were here.

My nerves, that I’d gotten somewhat under control, roared back to life. Never having much of a family of my own, I wasn’t that great with them. Well, I was pretty sure I wasn’t—I hadn’t had much practice.

Zeke turned to me, expression kind of grim. “My mom, she can be a little . . .”

The door to the house in front of us flew open, and a petite woman wearing khaki shorts and a floral shirt came tearing out. “You’re here,” she cried.

“ . . . Enthusiastic,” he finished.