He planted a hand on the wall next to the window, his face hardening at the painful reminder. “I did. Find you. Ask your mom, Paige.”

“My mother isn’t here anymore.”

The fragile note in her words made him curse himself in silence. He plunged a hand into his jeans and fisted it inside his pocket. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

Silence fell. He could feel her frustration rising like a wind slapping around the room. “Please tell me something.”

Zach pinched the bridge of his nose, slowly emptying his lungs. What could he tell her? Why in Christ’s last day did you have to tell someone she’d loved you even though the world had warned her not to?

Paige felt robbed of her memories but he felt robbed of … damn it, of her.

He could tell her that he was tortured every day of his life, wondering if he should’ve fought harder for her. He could tell her the man whose blood ran in his veins was in prison for killing an entire family while driving intoxicated, and he could also tell her that the police force had rarely seen a man so driven to be a cop, so damned desperate to atone for what one of his had done. When he looked at Paige Avery again, he’d wanted nothing more than to have nailed her father’s killer to the ground so that he would never again be told—would never again believe—that a Rivers wasn’t fit for an Avery.

Then again. He could just tell her she’d been his girl. She’d think they’d gone for pizzas and held hands in the cafeteria and smooched at the movies.

None of which they’d done. Because he was Zach Fucking Rivers.

“Maybe I should go.” Within minutes, he heard, rather than saw, that she was wearing her shoes. Leadenly, almost grudgingly, she crossed the room. There was anger in her voice, even though it quavered. “I thought I could find some answers in Phoenix but I see I’m not getting any from you. And you’ve already gone above and beyond the call of duty.”

The front door clicked shut and Zach stiffened, ready to bolt after her, when through the farthest corner of his eye, he caught sight of the car outside. The headlights flared on, illuminating the vacant street. He saw red.

“Ahh, fuck.” He charged for his shirt, his guns, and stormed after her. “Paige!”

CHAPTER 3

She ignored his voice the first two times he called, striding down the warm moonlit sidewalk, feeling brittle inside.

“PAIGE!”

The third time her name tore through the darkness, she actually felt fear. The blatant alarm in that familiar voice sent a surge of adrenaline through her, spiking up her awareness. Awareness of tires over gravel, of headlights blistering her back, a car speeding … and Paige began to run.

Tires screeched behind her.

Suddenly all she could hear was that motor roaring in closer. Zach calling out behind her. What was he saying? What was he—oh!