“You and Zyah thought it best not to call the police?” There was no judgment. With Anat, he never found there was.
“Yes, I’m sorry, Anat. Torpedo Ink and the police don’t always see eye to eye. We get blamed for a lot of things. We were escorting Zyah home. She works for us and it was late. Czar heard about the robbery and what happened to you, so he told us that Zyah was to have someone escort her home every night that she worked late. Normally, there would have been two of us, but Maestro had returned to the club to pick up a couple of things before he caught up with us. That was why he was late getting here and arrived just when we came into your house.”
“What really happened to your head?”
He took a deep breath. “I was shot.”
Anat was silent for a moment, digesting the information. She shook her head. “I can’t imagine what these people think I have. They took what little jewelry I kept. I live very simply. Zyah bought the house for me. She loved the views and thought it would be nice for both of us when she came home. She always talked of coming to live with me, although I didn’t think she’d really come.”
Player thought Anat sounded tired, and that alarmed him. It was still early, too early for Zyah to come home. He’d spent the day with Anat because, since he’d been there, no one had been scheduled to stay with her. He wasn’t about to leave until her granddaughter was home and they both were safe, locked inside.
He knew the sheriff sent extra patrols, which didn’t say much. They were stretched thin. Sea Haven didn’t have a police department. They were under the sheriff’s jurisdiction. It was only because both Jonas and Jackson lived in Sea Haven that the sheriff was around as much as he was. There were simply too many miles in the county to cover and not enough manpower. Torpedo Ink picked up the slack with Anat Gamal’s home. They had someone watching it at all times.
As if she were reading his mind, Anat made a guess. “Torpedo Ink is watching over us, aren’t they? Not just here in the house but outside as well.”
“Yes, ma’am, they are. They’ll continue to do so even after I’m gone, but you shouldn’t tell anyone, including your friends, not even Inez.”
She was silent a moment studying his face as if trying to read his reasons. “Your people are good people, Player,” she said. “Very good people. Why are you leaving when you should be trying to make my stubborn granddaughter see that she is making a big mistake by not forgiving you?”
“She’s forgiven me.” He didn’t want Anat to think Zyah was at fault. She wasn’t. Not in any way.
Player detested these kinds of conversations. He was too restless to stay still in spite of the fact that when he moved around too much, it brought on a migraine. He had to admit, his head was much better—good enough for him to get on his bike and ride the hell away from temptation. He didn’t have illusions when he was awake. Or nightmares.
“She’s too damn good for a man like me.” He told the truth. Straight up. What was the point of trying to beat around the bush? Anat had some kind of built-in radar for bullshit anyway. “She’s a good woman.”
Anat shook her head. “Hearing you talk this way makes me sad for you, Player. I thought you were more of a man than that. What you’re saying to me is nothing but an excuse. An old one. Anyone can make such an excuse. Everyone has a past. Something bad that happened to shape who we are. Some more than others.”
“You have no idea.”
She waved her hand in the air dismissively. “In the end, it doesn’t matter. It really doesn’t because it is in the past. We can only choose to go forward. We can’t change what’s behind us. What was done to us by others, by our parents, by anyone. Even what we did. It is done. We have to live with it. Our responsibility is to move forward and do the best we can, be the best we can.”
“Nothing is that simple.”
“Of course it isn’t, and yet it really is, Player. Life is very short. You have the choice to decide whether or not you’re going to blame your past for refusing to take chances. You have to push yourself to become different, to change with the years and grow and learn. No one says it’s easy, but it’s what people do. That’s what we all do. At least most of us. We try. We work at it. We’re never perfect and we make mistakes, but they’re our mistakes and we own those mistakes, and then we have to let them go so we can move on and grow more. That’s just life.”