Chapter Two: Help
948 Words
The night was quiet. Too quiet.
Zion stood shirtless in his dimly lit apartment, towel draped across his neck as steam from the hot shower still clung to his skin. The city buzzed in the distance through the half-open window, but in here, it was just him, the silence, and the weight of who he used to be.
He lit a cigarette, staring blankly at the ceiling. He hated nights like this—too long, too still, too sober. He was almost grateful when his phone buzzed on the counter.
He picked it up lazily, not expecting anything but one of the guys or maybe a bad deal needing fixing.
*Alzira.*
His jaw clenched. That name was the last thing he expected to see on his screen.
It had been two years. Two damn years since she last spoke to him. Since she walked out of his life like he didn’t matter—like he hadn’t once begged her to stay after the mistake that ruined everything.
He hesitated. Fingers hovered.
*Then he answered.*
"Hello?" His voice was rough, defensive.
Breathless sobs greeted him on the other end. Quiet. Broken. Then her voice cracked through.
“Zion… please. I—I need somewhere to go.”
He blinked.
She was crying.
Alzira never cried. Not even the night he—
No. He shut that thought down fast.
“What happened?” he asked, trying to sound neutral.
“I can’t stay here. Please,” she whispered.
He exhaled sharply. Logic screamed at him to say no. Walk away. He owed her nothing. But something old and stupid inside him tightened. That same damn feeling that made him chase her once… made him ruin her.
“Text me the address,” he said finally. “I’ll come get you.”
There was silence. Then a quiet, “Okay.”
—
Twenty-five minutes later, he pulled up to the curb outside a small estate in the quiet part of town. She was already waiting, She looked gracious in the loosed fit that she wore. Her box fixed beside her as she paced back and forth the streets.
Her face was gloomy and her eyes puffed like she'd been crying.
His chest tightened at the tought of that. He never thought he'd come across her ever again, not after the evil he'd committed against her. But still now, he wanted to hold her close to his chest tightly.
He walked up to her. Slowly . Calculated. He looked at her deeply as she looked away shyly. He made for her box and they walked in silence to his car.
“You good?” he asked, voice low.
She nodded, but didn’t meet his eyes.
Wordlessly, he opened the door for her.
The drive back was quiet. Heavy.
He wanted to ask questions, but he couldn’t. Not yet. Not with the ghost of what happened between them still thick in the air.
He glanced at her—how small she looked in his front seat, wrapped in a hoodie, fingers trembling.
“What did they do to you?” he finally asked.
Her voice was hollow. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
He nodded once. “Alright.”
But his hands tightened on the wheel.
—
Back at his apartment, she didn’t say a word. Just stepped inside and stood awkwardly in the hallway, like she didn’t belong.
Zion scratched his head, unsure of what to do.
“You want water?” he asked gruffly.
She shook her head.
“You eaten?”
Another shake.
He sighed and walked into the kitchen. Grabbed a leftover container of rice, microwaved it, and dropped it in front of her at the dining table.
“This is for you,zira. please eat" He said calmly, his voice soothing.
She stared at the food like it might vanish if she blinked. Then she whispered, “Thank you.”
He didn’t answer. Just sat on the other side of the room, watching her.
Memories clawed at him—her laugh, her anger, her warmth. Her tears the night he lost control.
He’d been drunk. Angry. Lost.
And he had hurt her in the worst way.
He had lived with the guilt every single day since.
Now, she was back in his house, trembling and bruised. And the worst part? He still wanted to protect her.
He still *wanted her.*
“Zion…” her voice pulled him from his thoughts. She had stopped eating, her hands trembling.
He crossed the room instantly. “What is it?”
“I’m just tired,” she said quickly, backing away like she’d said too much.
Zion stared at her. Really stared.
She was thinner. Paler. The spark she used to carry around like armor was gone.
“You can stay here,” he said finally. “For as long as you need. You don’t have to explain anything.”
She looked up at him, eyes wide. “Why are you being kind to me?”
He almost laughed. “Because I want to. And I feel like I owe you kindness zira. I still want us to ta............... "
She stood sharply." Please Zion, can we not talk about this ?"
He chuckled." All these years and you still wanna run away from this?"
Her lips parted, but she said nothing.
Instead, she whispered, “Where do I sleep?”
He led her to the guest room. She stepped inside without a word and gently closed the door.
Zion stood there for a second, hand on the frame, unsure of everything.
All he knew was—she was back.
And everything was about to get complicated.
*Real complicated.*
---
- Writer
