Serengeti Sunrise - By Vivi Andrews Page 0,41
just find that you’re perfect for each other. If you would just let yourself be.”
Zoe waited until the door clicked shut behind Ava to slump down onto the bed. Ava was right. Tyler was perfect, but more than that. He was perfect for her.
But perfect didn’t change anything. Zoe grabbed her toiletry bag, zipping it up and shoving it into her pack.
Tyler trotted down the steps of the infirmary, ignoring the doc’s order that he take it easy. One thought drove all others right out of his brain. He needed to find Zoe. Now. He hadn’t seen her since the doc had taken her out of his arms, and his heart wouldn’t slide down from the place it had lodged in his throat until he could see with his own eyes that the reports that she was good as new were true.
He needed to touch her, to feel the texture of her skin beneath his fingertips so he could breathe again.
The path to Zoe’s bungalow felt a million miles long, like it had been stretched since the last time he walked it. He moved faster, half-jogging and then running. His shoulder ached like the devil, little jabs of hot pain spearing into him with each jolting footfall, but he didn’t slow. Mara was coming up the path, but stepped out of the way as she saw him coming, a knowing smile quirking her lips.
He didn’t care who saw him. Didn’t care who gave him that smug must be newly mated look. He just ran.
The door was open when he got to her bungalow. The room was usually so bare it took him a moment to realize it had been stripped even further. The only item that was Zoe’s left inside was the cowboy hat someone must have collected from the perimeter where they’d been taken. It sat lonely and abandoned on the bed.
She was gone.
Tyler didn’t waste time searching her place. He scented the air and took off after her. He’d be able to track her more easily in lion form, where his sense of smell was sharper, but he wasn’t quite panicked enough to rip his stitches by shifting form. Yet.
Rounding the corner of his garage, he saw her. She stood at the door where he’d pinned her only days ago, a piece of paper in hand, her backpack resting against her ankle. His heart eased its panicked seizing at the sight of her. But his voice was gruff with the aftereffects of fear and anger when he spoke.
“A note?” he growled. “You weren’t even going to wait until I was released from the infirmary?”
Zoe spun toward him, her eyes widening in a way he would have thought was pleasure to see him and something like relief—if not for the fact that she was clearly leaving him. “Tyler.”
“Going somewhere?”
Her expression hardened, firming with resolve. “Yes. I have to go.”
“You don’t have to. No one wants you to leave, Zoe.”
“I want to.” She made a face, turning away from him then turning back before he could take a step toward her. “I don’t like who this is making me,” she said, waving between them to indicate the this. “If I leave, at least I’ll be me again.”
Tyler felt his expression softening, even as his chest ached with remorse. This was his fault. He’d failed her. “I’m sorry about what happened in the trailer,” he said, fighting to keep his voice low and steady. “I shouldn’t have let you be put in that position. You shouldn’t have to feel guilty for killing that man.”
Zoe’s snort cut him off. “God, Tyler, that isn’t it. You think I feel bad for killing that bastard? He was trying to shoot us. Put us down like animals. I’d kill him again in a heartbeat—and I’m sorry if I’m a little too bloodthirsty for you, but I figured you of all people would understand why I had to do it.”
“Of course, I—Zoe—if not that, why are you…?”
Her shoulders sagged. “I was the damsel in distress,” she muttered toward her feet. “I expected you to save me. Yeah, I got over it and kicked some ass, but there was this moment when I just waited for you. I can’t be that person, Tyler. I don’t like that part of me. The part that wanted to just sit back and let you rescue me. It feels too much like I’m losing who I am, if I become that girl.” She looked up, meeting his eyes for the first