Page 28 of Ripping the Odds

“I’m at your door. I’m going to let myself in. Don’t be afraid.”

“What do you mean let yourself in? How do you have the key?”

He hesitated. “Uh, it’s a long story.”

The phone call ended right as I heard the snick of the lock and the creak of my front door opening. Zak called my name, announcing his presence.

Looking down, my face flushed at what I saw. I was a freaking wreck. Yanking the sheet up, I covered my body a moment before Zak entered my room.

Normally, his shoulder-length black hair was pulled away from his face into a smooth ponytail, however at the moment, it was loose and messy, like he’d run his fingers through it countless times. He was barefoot, wearing a pair of navy-blue basketball shorts and a fitted heather-gray T-shirt with the casino’s logo on the front. The hardness in his blue eyes glued me in place until I saw what he was holding in his right hand. A sleek black gun.

“What happened?” he asked, setting the gun down on the top of my dresser when he realized there was no physical danger.

“Nightmare.”

“You called me.”

“I did.”

“Good.”

Without another word, he laid on the bed next to me, pulling me down onto his chest. I struggled initially, only because my brain said I should, not because I wanted to. Lying on him was comfortable, especially with the way his large hand stroked up and down my back. He made me feel safe for the first time in forever.

Still, I asked, “What are you doing, Zak?”

“Chasing the demons away.”

“Okay.”

“Close your eyes.”

“Okay.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Okay.”

His pecs shook beneath me, the deep rumble of his laughter reaching my ear.

“Pick a new word, baby.”

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“Sleep.”

So I did.

A while later, I awoke to us in the same position, me on his chest, his hand on my back. With blackout curtains drawn across the window in my bedroom, I had no way of knowing what time of day it was or how long we’d been like that. All I knew was how good it felt to be in his arms.

“It’s still early,” Zak grumbled, his deep voice scratchy with sleep.

“How do you know?”

“I don’t, but it doesn’t matter. I’m the boss, so if I say it's early, it's early.”

“We need to get up.”

Muscular arms tightened around me when I tried to move, holding me in place. His proximity did little to calm my racing heart. In fact, if the sheet covering me dropped lower, the tank top I wore would reveal exactly how much his closeness affected me, considering my nipples had tightened to the point of pain.