Under Fire by Jo Davis Page B

few seconds. “That’s not nearly as strange as my pet peeve; I don’t like clowns.”
    Cori laughed out loud, struggling to keep her attention on the road. “That’s just weird, Zack. Clowns? ”
    “As a kid, they seriously freaked me out.” He sighed. “Why doesn’t anyone but me think there’s something creepy about a grown man dressing in a clown suit and makeup? I mean, remember John Wayne Gacy?”
    Goose bumps broke out on Cori’s arms. “Point taken.”
    “Your turn.”
    “All right. Pizza rocks. Hate liver. There’s something really disgusting about eating an organ that used to filter bile.”
    “Well, thanks a million for that image.”
    “You’re welcome. Let’s see, pet peeves. I have a few. Ten weenies in a package, but only eight buns. Okay, that’s only a figurative reference, but you get the drift. Stupid concepts bug me.”
    “Then I’ll be careful not to reveal any dumb ideas around you,” he said wryly. “What about your family? Do they live around here?”
    “I have three obnoxious, overbearing older brothers. Which is why they live on the East Coast and I live here.”
    “Ah. Overprotective, are they?”
    Cori rolled her eyes. “They almost drove me insane after our mother died, especially my oldest brother. He kept his thumb squashed down on me so hard, I did something unbelievably stupid to get out from under his iron rule.”
    “Which was?”
    “I got married.” She glanced at Zack to see how he’d absorbed that tidbit. He simply nodded, a sage expression on his face.
    “It didn’t work out,” he guessed.
    “No.”
    Zack’s eyes narrowed. “Does your ex still bother you?”
    “Hardly.” She swallowed hard, weighing the wisdom of opening the door on the awful pain. The guilt. Once she did, there was no turning back. “My oldest brother killed him,” she said, her voice almost inaudible.
    He sucked in a sharp breath. “Jesus Christ. You mean like . . .”
    “In my defense. Alex had beaten me nearly to death and my brother caught him in the act. The grand jury chose not to indict.” Cori gripped the steering wheel tighter to hide the shakes. Zack was the only other person besides Shea with whom Cori had ever shared the darkest period in her life. Because sharing it also meant lying to those she’d come to care about, and it hurt too badly to do it.
    “You know, that story is one best told over a long evening involving lots of alcohol,” she said.
    “Understood. And as you said to me, when you’re ready to talk, I’m here.”
    Unexpected tears rushed to her eyes. This man wore his kindness as easily as his clothing. And, oh, God, she could get addicted to the whole package that was Zack Knight.
    “Thanks.” She sniffed and cleared her throat. “What about you? Where’s your family?”
    The instant the words left her mouth, she inwardly cursed herself for being an idiot. But there was no taking them back without revealing what she already knew.
    “My father is in a nursing home,” he said, surprising her. “He suffered a stroke last year and is basically a vegetable. He has waking periods, but he’s like an infant. Has to be fed, diapered.”
    “Oh, Zack, I’m so sorry. What about your mother?”
    He shrugged. “I never knew her. My father had lots of women in his heyday. One of them literally left me on his doorstep. Tests proved I was his, and he raised me by himself. Turn here.”
    His voice was tense, controlled, as though giving a highly edited version of the story. Much like hers. She could hardly blame him for not wanting to open a vein.
    Cori made the turn into a low-income neighborhood, each home more dilapidated than the last. Minutes later, as she pulled into his apartment complex, she blinked in astonishment, striving to keep the dismay from showing on her face. How could Zack—anyone—live in a dump like this?
    A sagging roof that should’ve been replaced a decade ago and was missing a ton of shingles. Overgrown hedges that covered