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OceanofPDF.com Anarchy - Tate Jame

Anarchy: Hades #2 is a fictional narrative centered around Lucas, who is captured and tortured by a man with a scarred face. As he endures pain, he expresses his belief that Hayden, a strong and determined character, will come to rescue him. The story unfolds with themes of love, resilience, and the struggle against dark forces, culminating in a dramatic rescue attempt amidst chaos.

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0% found this document useful (0 votes)
109 views379 pages

OceanofPDF.com Anarchy - Tate Jame

Anarchy: Hades #2 is a fictional narrative centered around Lucas, who is captured and tortured by a man with a scarred face. As he endures pain, he expresses his belief that Hayden, a strong and determined character, will come to rescue him. The story unfolds with themes of love, resilience, and the struggle against dark forces, culminating in a dramatic rescue attempt amidst chaos.

Uploaded by

nakku353
Copyright
© © All Rights Reserved
We take content rights seriously. If you suspect this is your content, claim it here.
Available Formats
Download as PDF, TXT or read online on Scribd
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ANARCHY

HADES #2

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TATE JAMES

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CONTENTS

Stalk Tate

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41

CASS’S LETTER
COMING SOON
A Note From Tate
Also By Tate James

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Tate James

Anarchy: Hades #2

Copyright © Tate James 2020


All rights reserved
First published in 2020
James, Tate
Anarchy: Hades #2
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or
transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in
writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or
cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition,
including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. All
characters in this publication other than those clearly in the public domain are
fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely
coincidental.
Cover design: Tamara Kokic
Photographer: Wander Aguiar
Models: Evan Keys and Lucas Loyola
Editing: Heather Long (content) and Jax Garren (line).

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To the kid in primary school who threw a moldy lemon at
me and laughed at my imaginary friends.

Look who’s laughing now, asshole! Me and my imaginary


friends are making lemonade.
De-fucking-licious.

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STALK TATE

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1
LUCAS

B lood fell onto the floor at my feet, a soft splat with


each heavy drop rolling from my face. I hung loose
in my chains, long since given up wasting my
energy trying to get free. The manacles around my wrists
were metal, and for all my gymnastic skill, I was no
Houdini.
At this stage of the game, my best and only option was
to endure—grit my teeth, suffer through the pain, and
maintain my bone deep belief that it was only a matter of
time before I was found. After all, I'd put my body through
plenty of pain while training for a shot at the Olympics. I
could handle this... right?
It was only a matter of time. She was too smart for this
fucker. Too strong, too stubborn, too ruthless. He wouldn’t
be able to keep me here for much longer, and he knew it.
But that was part of the problem. He knew his time was
limited, so he wasn’t fucking around with long-winded
villain soliloquies.
More's the shame. I badly could have done with a break,
even if it meant listening to the complete bullshit of a
raving madman. Years of dance and gymnastics had given
me a small advantage over my pain, but nothing could have
prepared me for this literal torture.
“You have no idea who you’re messing with,” I told my
captor with a groan of agony as I tried to lift my head. I’d
taken several hard blows, and who knew how long the split
in my forehead had been bleeding. Everything hurt. Every
damn inch of me. But I desperately pushed the pain aside
in an attempt to keep my wits. I couldn't lose myself to fear
and desperation, because that was undoubtedly what he
wanted. He wanted to break me.
The hooded man in the corner of the room, his back to
me as he heated a tool with a blowtorch, just gave a low,
cruel chuckle. “What are you planning to do, stripper boy?
Seduce me? Seems like that's your only talent.”
I coughed a genuine laugh that hurt my bruised chest.
“Not me, moron. Hades. She’s gonna come for you. You’re a
fucking dead man.”
He turned back to face me, shrugging his hood back to
reveal a scarred face, partly covered with a leather
eyepatch, and a deranged smile. "You have no idea how
right you are, pretty boy."
The metal brand in his hand glowed a hot orange, and
he placed the blowtorch down on the counter. Apparently, it
was hot enough to do the damage he was planning.
This was going to hurt so much. Tremors already shook
my body as I eyed his weapon and swallowed heavily.
"Whatever you want to know, I'll never tell you." I forced
the words from behind gritted teeth, the bravado weak
even to my ears. It was a pointless statement. The asshole
who'd initially taken me from Hayden's apartment—one of
the security guards from 7th Circle who I'd stupidly opened
the door for—hadn't been even slightly interested in
information. Just violence.
Up close, I found eye-patch dude roughly the same
height as me, but a whole lot broader in the shoulders,
where I was slim and toned. But that gave me no insight
about what the hell was going on. Who the fuck was he?
Who was he to Hayden?
He barked a slightly unhinged laugh. "You don't know
anything useful anyway. No, pretty boy. I don't want you to
tell me anything... you're the message to her. My Darling."
With that, he pressed the brand tight against my chest,
searing the flesh over my heart with blinding pain.
The scream that tore from my throat echoed through the
small room, and I jerked against my bonds, frantically
trying to pull away from the agony. But my torturer gave
zero fucks, totally ignoring my cries. His one good eye
remained impassive as he branded me.
It probably only took a second, but it felt like an eternity
before he pulled the brand away and inspected his
handiwork with a critical tilt to his mouth.
"You shouldn't have moved," he told me with an annoyed
click of his tongue. "Now the lines won't be clean." He
narrowed that one eye at his brand, then gave a sigh. "It'll
have to do."
I was incapable of any snappy replies. I was incapable of
anything but hanging from my bonds and groaning as the
whole room swam. Cold sweat dripped down my bare back
and I had a sickening feeling I was about to pass out.
My tormentor's watch beeped an alarm, and he grunted
an irritated sound. "Apparently our time is up already." He
pulled a shimmery green butterfly knife from his pocket
and flipped it open. Using the blade tip, he tilted my chin
up so I was forced to meet his gaze. "That was quicker than
expected. Then again, if anyone could do it, it's her." He
looked... proud. Like this had all been some kind of game.
"Fuck you," I spat.
He tilted his head to the side, like he was really
considering that as a suggestion, then flashed me a grin
and shook his head. "Nah, you're not my type, pretty boy."
His watch beeped again, and his scarred eyebrow hitched.
"That's my cue. Let my girl know I'm coming for her." He
removed the knife from under my chin and trailed it in a
line down my sternum, carefully, stopping just below the
bone. Then he smirked again. "This is gonna hurt."
Then he stabbed me. As if branding me wasn't enough.

I must have passed out from the pain, it was the only way to
explain how the eye-patched man disappeared from the
room so damn fast. The deafening sound of gunfire had
forced my eyes open, and the first thing I saw was the
green butterfly blade still protruding from my chest.
Agony racked my body, and it took every single ounce of
control I possessed over my muscles to keep from moving.
Any move, no matter how small, would only do more
damage with that knife sticking out of me.
That thought immediately became irrelevant when the
locked door and half the wall surrounding it exploded into
the room like someone had thrown a grenade at it. The
force of the blast made me jerk and twist in my chains, and
I screamed again. My voice was already hoarse, but the
intense pain in my chest still drew a sound out.
Blood ran down my stomach and soaked my trousers.
My vision was hazy and dark, the room in front of me
coming in and out of focus fast enough to make me motion
sick. Yet somehow when she came into sight, she was
crystal clear in my eyes.
"Hayden," I mumbled, relief washing over me in a
dizzying wave. Not because she'd rescued me, simply that
she was okay. When I'd first been taken, all I could think
about was how they'd probably been targeting her. That
someone wanted to hurt her. And I'd been glad it’d been me
in her apartment instead. Call me a lovesick fool, but I'd
happily take all the torture in the world to keep her safe.
My mama always said one day I'd meet someone and I'd
know. She always believed in love at first sight, my ma, but
not me. Nope. I was a cynic... or I had been until I laid eyes
on Hayden and my whole world tilted upside down.
She strode into view outside the ruined mess of the
doorway, pausing briefly over someone to fire three times
into the fallen body. Then her laser sharp gaze jerked up to
meet my eyes.
A million emotions crashed through me all at once, and
the fierce determination and cold fury painted across her
face was like the most soothing balm for my injuries.
Zed was at her side, as always, and for once I was
actually happy to see him. Even if he was head over heels
in love with my girl. But there was no way in hell I was
walking away from this mess. I'd be lucky if I even survived
long enough to get medical attention...
Who will look after my mom if I die?
Hayden stepped through the blown-out doorway, but my
vision was blacking out already. The pain was too much, the
blood loss making me too weak.
Zed shouted something and there was a flurry of motion,
but I'd lost the strength to hold my head up any longer.
"Lucas." Her rich, velvet voice reached my ears, and her
soft hand cupped my cheek. She was so short I didn't even
really need to lift my head to see her. "I've got you; you're
going to be okay."
I wanted to agree, but no words would come out. I could
do nothing but watch as her eyes darted to the knife
protruding from my chest. Her jaw tightened as her whole
body radiated tension, fury, but she didn't let it out.
Instead, she just whispered reassurances while someone
picked the locks on my wrist irons.
When the bonds clicked open, I dropped like a lead
weight. But two sets of strong arms caught me before I hit
the ground.
"Hang in there, kid," my boss, Zayden De Rosa,
muttered from one side of me. "Don't fucking die on us
now."
Whoever was on my other side just grunted a sound of
agreement, and I wanted to laugh. I’d never imagined
myself as the damsel in distress, but it seemed strangely
right that Hayden had come to my rescue. She was flipping
gender roles like nobody's business, and I was here for it.
"Ambulance is almost here," she barked to Zed. "Get him
up to the south exit, and whatever you do, do not let him
die. Clear?" Her tone brokered no arguments, no matter
how impossible her request.
"Where the fuck are you going?" Zed snapped as Hayden
started down the corridor away from us. "Dare!"
She hesitated, spinning around just long enough to
shoot him a hard glare. "Zed, I'm trusting you. Get Lucas to
the hospital and don't take your fucking eyes off him."
Oh man. I really wanted to laugh at him for that, but for
one thing, I was barely conscious. For another, I also
wanted to know where the fuck she was going.
She didn't hang around to debate it, though, and took off
again, completely ignoring the way Zed shouted after her.
"I've got this," the dude supporting my other side
rumbled. He smoothly transferred my weight entirely onto
Zed, then loped off after Hayden.
"Motherfucking shit fuck cunt-licker," Zed cursed, but he
didn't drop me to the floor to die like I half expected him to.
Instead, he adjusted his grip on me, then started toward
the exit. "If you fucking die now, kid, I'll personally take a
trip to hell, resurrect your ass, and kill you all over again."
With that comforting statement, I passed right the fuck
out.

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2
HADES

H eavy footsteps sounded down the corridor


behind me, and I simmered with anger, knowing
I'd been disobeyed but not altogether shocked by
that fact.
"Fuck off, Cassiel," I snarled, not turning to look at him.
"I gave you an order."
"No, you gave Zed an order," he replied, falling into step
beside me. "If you thought either of us would let you run off
after a goddamn ghost without backup, you're wrong."
His disobedience should have pissed me off, but I
couldn't even muster the slightest irritation. In fact, I was
almost glad for his company as I chased my dark past along
a corridor beneath Anarchy that I’d never even known
existed.
Neither one of us spoke again until we reached the end.
There was only one way out, a narrow ladder up to an open
hatch, and I took point. Both Cass and I had our guns at the
ready, but we were met with nothing but disappointment.
The hatch opened into a grass-covered clearing in the
woods behind Anarchy, with no immediate hints presenting
themselves as to where Chase—if it had really been him—
had gone.
A scream of frustration burned in my chest, and I
clenched my jaw tight enough to hurt in order to hold it in.
Nothing could be gained from throwing a temper tantrum
now. Nothing except possibly showing my hand to anyone
within earshot—if there was anyone. So I ground my teeth
together and swallowed the scream, the curses, the rage,
then turned back to Cass, who'd followed me out of the
hatch.
"There's nothing here," I said in a cold, detached voice
and tucked my gun away to free my hands for the ladder.
"Let's go."
"Hold up," he growled, grabbing my arm as I tried to
brush past him.
I glared up at him but couldn't muster the energy to jerk
my arm free. Partly because I was exhausted—it'd been
over twenty-four hours since Lucas was taken and I hadn't
slept a single minute as we’d tracked him down. Partly
because I liked the warm strength of Cass’s fingers circling
my arm.
"What now?" I snapped.
His expression darkened as he peered down at me. It
was close to midnight, and the faint sounds of partying in
Anarchy was the only sign of life around us. Otherwise, we
were totally alone... or seemed to be, at any rate. I knew
better than to assume.
"Cass, if you have nothing helpful to say right now, get
the fuck out of my way." I had zero patience left. None. I
needed to get some of my guys up here to thoroughly
canvas the area and figure out how someone could
disappear so easily.
An unreadable expression crossed his face, and he let
out a frustrated sigh. He let go of my arm to scrub a hand
over his face, but by no means did he move out of my way
or even give me any indication that he intended to.
"None of this is your fault, Red," he rumbled after a
moment's pause.
I cocked a brow and folded my arms under my breasts.
"Of course it's fucking not," I replied caustically. "Last I
checked, I didn't ask for my supposedly dead ex-fiancé to
rise from his grave, blow up my club, then kidnap and
torture the guy I've been sleeping with."
Cass wasn't buying my bullshit, though. He just stared
down at me, seeing right through my poker face to the
bottomless depths of guilt washing through me. It was my
fault that Lucas had been hurt. It was a direct attack on
me, and he was collateral damage. There was no two ways
about it. Had he never met me, he wouldn't currently be on
his way to a hospital with a knife sticking out of his chest.
I didn't think for a second that he might die. It simply
wasn't an option.
When Cass still said nothing more, I swallowed heavily
and broke eye contact first. "He was holding him in the
basement of my own property, Cass." The words were
whispered so softly he might not even have heard me. "He
was right under my fucking nose for twenty-seven hours.
Now get the fuck out of my way so I can start to work out
how in the fuck I never knew about these underground
tunnels."
His dark brows dipped low. "You aren't going to the
hospital to make sure he's alive?"
I scowled. "He's alive."
Yeah, stubborn denial was one of my favorite coping
mechanisms. So what?
Cass just let out another long exhale, shaking his head.
"Sometimes, Red, I don't know if you're the most stubborn,
hardheaded woman I've ever met or—"
My temper flared hot, and I tilted my chin up. "Or
fucking what, Cass?"
He met my gaze unflinchingly, though. "Or the most
incredible," he murmured, his voice rough and low. "Or
both."
That was so far from what I'd expected him to say I was
taken completely off guard when he pressed a hand to the
small of my back to draw me close. Then he kissed me, and
I was shocked enough to let it happen.
But my wits returned a second later, and I shoved away
from his strangely intimate hold.
"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" I demanded
with a bitter laugh.
He goddamn knew he was out of line if the frustrated set
to his jaw was any indication. Or if he even possessed half a
brain, he would know.
"I've already apologized," he ground out from clenched
teeth. "When are you going to let me in? I hate the thought
of you facing this threat alone, Red. Every time—"
"I'm not alone," I cut him off. "I have Zed. Just like I
always have. And you had your chance, Cassiel. Hell,
you’ve had more than one chance, and you blew them all.
Suck it up and stop messing with my fucking head. I don't
have the time or patience to be manipulated by your dick
right now."
I didn't wait for his response. I wasn't in the mood to
have him change my mind, and this sure as fuck wasn't the
right time to reignite whatever micro-flame we'd had
burning for all of three seconds. Lucas was in the hospital—
hopefully—and Chase was potentially alive and gunning for
me. Public sex with a man I frequently wanted to strangle
wasn't ranking high on my list of priorities.
It only took a few seconds for him to follow me back
down the ladder, pull the hatch shut behind him, and twist
the locking wheel to prevent anyone from following us.
Good to see he hadn't completely lost his sanity.
We strode back along the unfamiliar corridor in silence,
the sounds of partying from Anarchy growing louder by the
second. Mentally, I kicked myself again for not sealing off
the supply rooms sooner. It'd been on my to-do list for ages;
lots of them had structural damage and I didn't want to
deal with the liability if anyone was hurt down here. But I
never would have guessed that one of the rooms had a false
wall leading to a section of tunnels and what seemed to be
jail cells.
When we reached the room Lucas had been kept in, the
one Zed had quite literally blown up to gain us entry into, I
slowed down, then stepped inside and looked around.
Blood decorated the floor, some dark and dried and
some still so fresh it was wet and glistening. Rusty
manacles hung from the ceiling, the same ones that Cass
had needed to pick to free Lucas, and I shuddered.
"Recognize this?" Cass asked, jerking me out of my
violent daydream about what might’ve happened in this
room. I blinked a couple of times to center myself once
more, then turned to see what he was talking about.
In his hand, he held a long iron instrument, like a fire
poker. But no, the end was flat with...
"Fuck me," I whispered, swallowing hard. "That sick
fuck."
When we’d found Lucas, I'd been so focused on the knife
protruding from his chest I had barely paid any attention to
the blistered, bleeding burn on his left pec. Now it made
sense, though.
"Looks like this freak branded stripper-boy with your
personal symbol," Cass muttered, curling his lip in disgust
as he eyed the brand.
I shook my head. "Don't call him that. I think if anything
should earn him some respect from you, it's this."
Cass gave me a sharp look, then nodded slightly. "Fair
point." He tossed the brand back on the floor, then gave me
a hard look. "Come on. Your Wolves can deal with this
mess."
"Excuse me?" I scowled at him.
His face was pure, stubborn bullheadedness though.
"You heard me. You've got plenty of employees that can
handle a cleanup." His strong hand gripped my upper arm
again as he led me out of the torture room and we stepped
over a body. Chase—or whoever—must have hired help
because we'd killed at least six unfamiliar faces on our way
into the tunnels.
I was just about done with him playing alpha dog in my
house. "Cassiel Saint—"
He whirled around on me, though, crowding me against
the wall and bringing his lips down close to my ear. "No.
You listen to me, Hayden Timber. I've stood back and
watched you push people away and isolate yourself time
and time again, making yourself utterly un-fucking-
touchable. For fucking years. Now, in the short time you've
been screwing Lucas, something has changed, and I for one
don't want to see it change back. You care for him. You're
going to the hospital and making sure he's alive. End of
discussion."
His speech shocked me enough that I didn't protest
when he started along the corridor once more, his hand
still around my arm. He wasn't dragging me along, which
was probably why I allowed it, and it seemed a whole lot
like he just didn't want to let go for his own reasons.
We stopped briefly along the way so I could relay clean-
up instructions to several of my security team, and I sent
off a quick message for Alexi, my head of security, to meet
me at my office in the morning. It hadn't escaped my notice
that one of the men guarding Lucas's cell had been a
Timberwolf. Had I not been in such a hurry to reach Lucas,
I'd have made his death a damn painful one.
I didn't take kindly to traitors.
Cass led me straight over to his bike, bypassing my car,
and jerked his head for me to get on behind him.
I hesitated, scowling, but he gave me that hard glare
that was fast becoming my weakness.
"You're in no state to be driving, Red. Get on."
As much as I wanted to argue with him, he was right.
The adrenaline of searching for Lucas, of finding him so
hurt and nearly dead, it was depleting fast. In its wake I
had nothing but shaky exhaustion and dizziness. Not to
mention the dull, persistent ache of my bruises and scrapes
from the explosion of 7 th Circle just a couple of days ago.
Yeah, in fairness, I was a damn mess. So I huffed an
annoyed sigh and climbed onto the back of Cass's bike.
"Hurry up and leave before anyone fucking sees this," I
growled as I wrapped my arms around his waist. "The last
thing I need is my Wolves thinking I've become your bitch."
Cass scoffed as he kicked over the engine and rolled us
out of the parking lot. "No one would ever think that, trust
me."
He was probably right; my reputation was too solid to be
cracked with one trip on the back of a Reaper's motorcycle.
But still, I remained tense and paranoid until we were well
out of sight of Anarchy and all my Wolves. Only when we hit
the dark, deserted streets of south Shadow Grove did I
relax.
Cass must have sensed it, too, because he placed a huge
hand over mine on his stomach. It was only a brief touch, a
small tug to tell me to hold tighter, then he returned his
hand to the handlebars. Yet it clicked something in my
brain, forcing me to see that he was—as he always was—
looking after me.
The few minutes afterward that it took to get to the
hospital gave me some time to wonder if maybe that had
been the motivation behind his hot-and-cold bullshit. He
was constantly looking out for my best interests, whether it
was keeping an eye on Seph—something way outside his
job description—or pushing me away from what he viewed
as a toxic relationship. Like, say, with an older gang leader.
Then again, maybe he was just an indecisive fuckhead
who couldn't decide if he liked me or not. Maybe I was
giving too much benefit of the doubt.
Only time would tell, though, because I sure as fuck
wasn’t putting myself on the line for him to reject again.
No. Fucking. Way.

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3

L ucas had been taken into emergency surgery to


remove the knife from his chest and repair the
damage done, but we only waited a short time
before the surgeon emerged to give an update.
"Mr. De Rosa?" the doctor asked Zed as he approached.
He was still head-to-toe in blue scrubs but had taken his
mask off and had it dangling from his hand. "You're Lucas's
brother?"
I gave Zed a sharp look, and he shrugged. "Sure. What's
the news?"
"Your brother is one lucky guy," the doctor said with a
brow raise. "Somehow that knife slid perfectly between all
the major blood vessels. It punctured his lung, but by
leaving the blade in like you did, we were able to fix it up.
So far, things are looking good for his recovery." He
paused, frowning. "The brand on his chest will scar,
though. He will need skin grafts if he wants to get rid of
that mark."
There was no doubt in my mind that it had been no
accident or miracle that the knife had been so perfectly
placed. That wasn't a fluke, it’d been deliberate.
"We need to see the knife," I told the doctor in a flat
voice that made his brows hitch. Then he gave my visibly
displayed weapons a nervous look and nodded.
"Absolutely, I'll have my nurse bring it out." He shifted
his attention back to Zed. "You will be able to see Lucas in
about an hour when he's out of the recovery room."
"Thank you," Zed replied, and the doctor made a swift
exit once more. I didn't blame him, either. The three of us—
Zed, Cass, and I—made for an intimidating trio, even if he
had no clue who we were. No doubt someone would fill him
in, though.
When we were alone again—or as alone as anyone could
be in a hospital waiting room—I cocked a brow at Zed. "His
brother?"
Zed just shrugged again. "And legal guardian. Seemed
like the easiest way to deal with paperwork. I doubt he has
health insurance, and I didn't want to waste time with the
whole don't you know who I am shit."
I just blinked at him a couple of times, then nodded
dumbly. It actually made a lot of sense, but I sure as hell
wouldn't have thought of it in the heat of the moment.
Lucas probably didn't have decent medical insurance, or he
wouldn't be in the situation he was in with his mom's
medical bills.
"Thank you," I murmured to Zed, "I probably would have
just pulled a gun and made the whole thing a million times
worse."
He arched a lopsided smile at me and bumped my
shoulder with his. "Nah, you'd have done the same." He
shifted his attention to Cass, who sat silently by my side.
He hadn't said a single word since we'd arrived at the
hospital but still made it abundantly clear he wasn't going
anywhere. "Are you sticking around for a bit? I need to
change my shirt and check in on Seph."
I flinched. Seph. Jesus Christ, what was she going to say
when she found out? When I'd realized Lucas had been
taken, I'd had Cass drop her off at Madison Kate's
mountain home some three hours away. Surrounded by
Archer and his boys, she was as safe as she could be
without me and Zed physically watching her. But sooner or
later, she was going to find out—not just about Lucas being
hurt but about why he was taken in the first place.
Fuck. She was going to murder me, and I'd deserve it for
not fessing up the second I found out Lucas was her high
school crush. In my own defense, I had been in shock. But
this was firmly on the shittiest sister alive list of things to
do.
"Not goin' anywhere soon," Cass replied, shifting into a
slouch that looked impossibly effortless in the
uncomfortable plastic chair.
"I'm just fine here on my own," I told them both with an
edge of irritation. "Or did I suddenly transform into a
helpless princess without noticing? Last I checked, I was a
hell of a lot bigger and badder than you two."
Zed arched a brow at me but didn't reply. Instead, he
gave Cass a nod and strode out of the waiting room. He had
a fair point, given that his white button-down was coated in
Lucas's blood from carrying him out of the tunnels, but part
of me didn't want him to go. Codependency built from years
of trusting no-one but each other, I guessed.
"You can go," I told Cass after a few moments of silence.
He just gave me a long side-eye, and I let out a frustrated
sigh. "This is pointless. I have shit I should be doing. I've
got traitors in the Wolves that need to be eradicated and
tunnels to seal up underneath Anarchy. Not to mention—"
"Stop it," he growled. "None of that is so urgent it can't
wait a couple of hours."
I ground my teeth together, wanting to disagree but
coming up blank. My brain was too fried.
"Besides," Cass continued in a low, quiet voice, "that kid
took a knife in the chest tonight. He deserves to see your
face when he wakes up."
That statement, from Cass of all people, gave me pause.
I bit my lip to hold back my stubborn denials and swallowed
heavily. Fucking hell, Lucas didn't need me messing up his
life. I should have listened to Demi when she told me not to
corrupt him.
Cass cleared his throat, pulling my attention once more.
"So... how old is he?"
I stiffened, turning my head slightly to peer at him.
"Excuse me?"
He met my gaze and dragged his thumb over his lower
lip thoughtfully. "Lucas. How old is he?" When I didn't
respond, he continued. "Because when Seph was on the
phone with you at the yogurt shop..."
I cringed. Hard. Oh fucking hell. Seph had said to me on
the phone that Lucas had come over to study with her.
Even if Cass hadn't seen him arrive in his Shadow Prep
uniform—which he likely had as well—there was no
avoiding the fact that Seph had told him Lucas went to
school with her.
"He used a fake ID when I hired him," I muttered,
fighting to keep the embarrassment from showing on my
face. "I didn't know until after."
Cass showed no signs of judgment but also no signs of
anything really. Fucker had a better poker face than me
some days. I'd kill to play a game against him one day.
"What I would have done to see your face when you
found that out," he muttered with an edge of amusement.
"So, eighteen?"
I groaned and ran my hand through my hair. Obviously,
this was a secret that was bound to come out sooner or
later, but if I was honest, I hadn't really been thinking long-
term when I agreed to keep seeing Lucas. I hadn't even
been thinking more than one day at a time. Fucking hell,
Zed was going to have a field day.
"Nineteen in a few weeks," I replied, as though that
somehow made it all better. I mean, he was legally an adult;
we weren't doing anything wrong. If our roles were
reversed, no one would even bat an eyelid at the age gap.
Hell, Archer's wife was four years younger than him and
that was just accepted as normal.
Cass grunted a sound, his eyes still glued to my face.
"Shit, Red. I'm old enough to be his father."
I snorted a laugh, not having thought of that. "Well, good
thing you're not fucking him then, huh?"
His lips tugged into a micro-smile, and I bit the inside of
my cheek to keep from blushing like a girl. For a man who
barely ever smiled, goddamn, he made it a sexy expression,
all sly and sexual, whether that was his intention or not.
"You look like shit," he told me in a rapid change of
subject that had my brows hitching in surprise. "Let's grab
coffee while we wait."
My eyes narrowed. "For one thing, it's rude to tell a lady
she looks like shit, Cassiel Saint."
Another smirk. Damn him. "Oh, you're a lady now, sir?"
My glare darkened. "And for another, if that's your idea
of a peace treaty—"
"It's not," he cut me off with a short headshake. "It's just
coffee because we both need it. We've got time."
I mulled it over for a quick moment, then sighed. "Yeah,
I suppose we do. Or something stronger. There's an all-
night diner across the street that doesn't make terrible
coffee." I stood up from my chair and made my way over to
the nurses’ station to let them know where we would be
and make sure they had my phone number in case Lucas
woke up sooner than the doctor’s estimate.
Cass followed my lead out of the waiting room and
across the road to the diner in question, but paused me
with a hand on my arm before we entered.
"Here," he murmured, shrugging off his leather jacket
and draping it over my shoulders. I made to object, but he
gave me a hard look. "I figure you might not want to attract
any police attention tonight."
"Oh," I replied with a nod, realizing what he meant. With
my Desert Eagle strapped under one arm, a Glock under
the other, and three throwing daggers strapped to my
thigh, I was far from inconspicuous. So I threaded my arms
into the sleeves of Cass's jacket and pushed through the
door to the diner.
He was only carrying one gun, tucked into the back of
his jeans, and he'd pulled his T-shirt over it, so the jacket
was much better served hiding my weaponry.
"This isn't going to do wonders for my reputation," I
muttered under my breath as I slid into a booth. Cass took
the seat opposite me and quirked a brow in question.
"Having coffee with me in the middle of the night?" he
asked.
I shot him a deadpan glare. "Wearing a Reaper's jacket."
He scoffed. "Big bad Hades cares what people think?"
"When it could potentially destabilize my hard-won seat
of power and lead foolish upstarts into thinking I've lost my
edge? Yeah, I care." I glowered, then sighed. "But you're
right. Too many of the SGPD are no longer under my
control, and I really don't need some Good Samaritan
reporting me as a threat tonight."
Our waitress came over then and took our orders for
coffee. We both remained silent until she came back with
our steaming mugs and placed them down with the bill.
"So, what else do I need to know about this Chase
Lockhart situation?" Cass asked in a quiet rumble when we
were alone again.
I frowned, then sipped my coffee. "Nothing," I replied,
firm. "I appreciate your help getting Lucas back, but this
has nothing to do with the Reapers. I'll deal with it, just like
I deal with anyone who threatens my business."
That clearly wasn't the answer he wanted, because his
jaw tightened and I could almost hear his teeth grinding.
"Red—" he started, but my phone vibrated in my pocket.
"Not up for discussion, Cass," I cut him off, pulling my
phone out to check who it was. Then I released a long
breath and declined the call. "Seph," I admitted when he
gave me an inquiring look. "She wants to know what's
going on, and I have no idea what I'm going to tell her."
Cass huffed a sound. "I can relate," he grumbled, clearly
sour that I still wasn't spilling all my deep, dark secrets
with him. After he'd dropped Seph at Madison Kate’s last
night, he'd returned to help Zed and I without being asked.
So we'd given him some information... like the fact that
we'd dug up Chase's grave and found it empty. And the fact
that we suspected he was still alive and waging war on me.
On us. I still couldn't work out if it was just me he was
targeting or Zed too. After all, they'd been as close as
brothers once.
But the rest of it? My history with Chase and what all
had led us to the Timberwolf massacre five years ago?
None of his fucking business.
My phone vibrated again, this time with a call from Zed,
which I accepted.
"All okay?" I asked, holding the phone to my ear as I
toyed with my coffee mug.
"Yeah, fine," he replied, then gave a short yawn. "I just
spoke to Seph, and she said you're ignoring her calls. What
do you wanna do about that?"
I wrinkled my nose. "Dunno. She's still safe with MK,
right?"
"Yes, sir. I spoke with Archer, and he's aware of the
risks. She's safe there as long as we need."
A small sigh of relief rushed out of me. As much as I was
avoiding my sister’s calls, her safety was—and always
would be—my number one priority. Always.
"Good. Get some rest and meet me at Copper Wolf in the
morning. I've told Alexi to come in for a meeting." Just the
thought of that meeting was making me tired. In reality,
though, I was going to need a meeting with my entire
freaking gang. First an undercover FBI agent and then a
traitor guarding Lucas? I didn't believe for a second there
weren't any other moles.
Zed scoffed a laugh. "Rest. Sure. Call your sister and
stop her blowing up my phone. It's past her bedtime."
I rolled my eyes and ended the call. He was right,
though; I couldn't avoid Seph forever.
"Everything alright?" Cass asked when I drummed my
fingertips on the table a couple of times, thinking.
I arched a brow. "Of course."
"I wish you'd let me help." He scowled.
With a bitter laugh, I ruffled my fingers through my hair,
then took a long sip of my coffee to collect my scattered
thoughts. "Somehow, Saint, I doubt you can help me
explain to Persephone that I've been fucking her high
school crush for the last two weeks without telling her. And
that because of me, he was abducted, tortured, and almost
killed. Oh, also that my ex-fiancé—who she doesn't know
played a heavy hand in her near-sale to a Saudi pedophile—
is back from the dead and gunning for me." I bit my tongue
to stem the flow of words that suddenly wanted to pour out
of me, then took a deep breath. "If you can help with that,
by all means, I'll happily listen to suggestions."
His only response was to stare at me intently. Sometimes
I seriously wished I could crack his skull open and see what
in the hell was going on inside there during moments like
this.
Then other times, like when he’d declared that I needed
to come to the hospital, his words hit far too close to the
truth and I'd rather he kept them inside.
My phone buzzed again, this time with an unknown
number, and I answered cautiously. To my relief, it was the
hospital calling to let us know that Lucas had been
transferred to a private room and we could visit if we
wanted.
I quickly downed the rest of my coffee, and Cass tossed
some money on the table before following me out of the
diner.
"This is stupid," I muttered to myself as we crossed the
street back to the hospital. "He's not going to want to see
me right now."
Cass gave me a slightly pitying look, shaking his head.
"You always lie to yourself like that, Red? Or is this a new
thing?"
I flipped him off and stalked ahead of him, making my
way straight over to the nurses’ station to get directions to
Lucas's room. Clearly Cass wasn't going to let up until I
actually saw Lucas, and... yeah, if I was honest, I also
wanted to see he was okay with my own eyes. It didn't
change the fact that I was probably the last person on the
earth he would want to see right now.
"The doctor asked me to give you this," the nurse told
me, holding out a plastic bag containing a folded-up, green
butterfly knife.
My stomach flipped, and I needed to swallow heavily
before I could take it from her.
Cass grimaced when he saw it in my hand , too. "That's
one of Phillip D'Ath's blades," he correctly observed.
I gave a jerking nod. "Yep."
"Let me guess," he rumbled, walking with me over to the
elevators. "This one belonged to Chase Lockhart?"
"Close, but no," I replied reluctantly as we stepped into
the elevator and Cass stabbed the button for the seventh
floor. "This one was Zed's."

OceanofPDF.com
4

L ucas wasn't awake when we reached his room. Cass


still nudged me inside, though, then waited in the
hallway to give me... I don't know what. Privacy? To
talk to an unconscious guy I barely knew but had almost
gotten killed?
Awkward didn't even begin to touch on how I felt
standing there looking down at Lucas's bruised face, still
and calm in sleep.
"Nope," I muttered to myself. "This is weird." It wasn’t
like he was my boyfriend; he was just a guy I was fucking.
Right? Right. He was just an addictively good lay who had
gotten caught in the crosshairs of a burgeoning gang war.
"Hayden." His hoarse voice stopped me dead in my
tracks as I tried to sneak back out of the private hospital
room again. Despite how I'd just mentally labeled him as
nothing more than a good lay, the sound of his voice hit me
like a thousand volts of electricity. "You're here."
With a cringe, I turned back around to face him, guilt
flooding through me harder than any drug I'd tried.
Nothing could have prepared me for the look on his face,
though.
"Yeah," I replied, backing up a step, getting closer to the
door and my escape. "I just wanted to make sure you
were... you know... alive."
The pure, unfiltered look of relief and joy on his face
only got more intense as he smiled. Wow. Just wow. It
should have been illegal for a guy to have that good a smile
while beaten and bruised in a hospital bed after a near-
death encounter. Straight up illegal.
Not a flicker of hurt or accusation showed on his
gorgeous face, and that only made me feel all the more
guilty for my part in his torture. He didn't blame me, and
he should. He should be goddamn terrified. He should be
running as far and as fast as he possibly could. But no...
No, all I saw when I met Lucas's sea green eyes was
something scarily close to love. Which, obviously, was
insane.
No one fell in love at first sight. That shit was reserved
for fiction and fiction only.
He stretched out a weak hand to me, his fingers limp but
the gesture clear that he wanted me to come closer. The
last thing I wanted to do was get any closer to Lucas than I
already was. Physically and emotionally. Yet my traitor feet
moved me across the room without my permission, and I
stifled a small gasp when our fingers met.
Fuck. Fuckity fuck shit, I was doomed.
With a groan of despair, I sank into the chair at his
bedside and dropped my forehead to the mattress. "Lucas,
I'm so sorry," I mumbled into the sheets.
"For what?" he asked, his voice rough like he'd been
screaming all night. Hell, he probably had. That brand on
his chest would have been straight up blinding agony. His
fingers trailed through my hair, gently offering me comfort,
like I deserved it in the least. "You're not the one who did
this. It was that deranged fucking eye-patch dude."
My shoulders stiffened, and I lifted my head to look at
him. "What?"
He blinked sleepily at me, that soft smile still on his lips.
"Fuck you're beautiful," he mumbled. "I thought for a
second I had died when you appeared in that room. You
looked just like an avenging angel."
His words were slightly slurred, and there was a
glassiness to his gaze that betrayed how heavily drugged
he was for the pain. Shit. He probably had no idea what he
was even saying. Still, I was desperate to know what he
might have seen or heard.
"Lucas," I whispered, linking my fingers through his and
squeezing gently. "What eye-patch dude? Did he tell you his
name?"
His smile slipped a little, a small frown touching his
brows. "No. No, he was..." He gave a small headshake, then
blinked a couple of times like he was trying to fight the
urge to sleep. Shit, I should just leave him alone. I was
already pretty confident I knew what he would tell me,
anyway.
Just as I was about to make my exit, his fingers
tightened on mine. "He kept calling you his. He kept talking
about his darling."
Bile rose in my throat, and I shoved it back down with
Herculean effort. "Chase," I whispered, my voice full of
dread and five-year-old fear. "He's alive. How..."
"He was pretty messed up," Lucas told me, his voice still
a sleepy mumble. "Did you do that to him, angel? Did you
take his eye and scar him up like that? I hope so."
That made me bark a short laugh. His lids dropped
closed, but another smile touched his lush lips.
"I'm so happy you're here," he whispered. His fingers
tightened on mine again, and even when his breathing had
evened out into sleep, it took me a long time to force myself
to pull away.
When I finally did, I sat back in the chair and just stared
at him for the longest time. He was so... innocent. It should
have been a major turn off for me. It should have creeped
me out and made me run a mile in the opposite direction.
Everything about him screamed nice guy, and that was
firmly not my type.
And yet... here I was, watching over him as he slept in a
hospital bed wrapped in bandages and covered in the
marks of my ex's fists. Here I was, dreading the thought of
ever pushing him away, even if it was to keep him safe.
I couldn't even put a finger on when it'd happened,
whether it’d been the night we met, or just now, but he'd
firmly surpassed the just a good lay category. He'd become
a weakness... because goddamn it all to hell, I cared about
him.
The soft click of the door opening behind me interrupted
my train of thought, and I tilted my head up to see Zed
there. Then glared at him.
"I thought I told you to rest," I whispered.
He just gave a casual shrug and nodded to Lucas's
sleeping form. "Had to check on my little brother. How's he
doing?"
I grimaced, then pushed up out of the chair. We could
speak outside the room so we didn't wake Lucas up, seeing
as he'd just come out of surgery. The best thing for him now
—aside from painkillers—was sleep.
Zed closed the door behind us again when we stepped
out, and Cass looked up from where he waited, leaning on
the wall opposite. The tilt to his head was questioning, and
I indicated he should follow us down to the end of the hall.
"He's pretty foggy and shit," I told them, crossing my
arms under my breasts. I still wore Cass's jacket, which
was so big on me it probably looked ridiculous, But it was
also comfy as all hell, so I hadn't offered to give it back.
Zed noticed it, too, giving the Reaper patch on the left
shoulder a hard look before frowning at me with irritation
painted across his face.
"To be expected," Cass said, responding to my statement
and ignoring the way Zed was glaring at me. Or I thought
he was ignoring it until he shifted his position to lean on
the wall a whole hell of a lot closer to me than he'd been a
moment ago. "General anesthesia takes a bit to recover
from."
I gave a sigh, rubbing at my temples where I could feel a
blinding tension headache building. "Yeah, well he was
lucid enough to mention he'd been hurt by a scarred man
with an eye patch." I winced just at the thought of Chase
surviving the bullet I'd put in his face. "Oh, and the nurse
gave me this." I pulled the bagged knife from my pocket
and handed it to my second.
Zed just grimaced and pocketed the bagged blade
without even looking at it. He already knew what it was;
he'd had to stare at it sticking out of Lucas's chest the
whole way to the hospital.
"So he's alive," he murmured, resigned.
"It would seem so," I agreed.
Zed just nodded, silent. Cass said nothing, but watched
me with an intensity that made a shiver run down my spine.
"We need to send someone to check on Lucas's mother,"
I finally said, breaking the tense moment between us all.
"She uses a wheelchair, and he's her primary caregiver."
Zed jerked a nod. "On it. You want someone posted to
keep watch or...?"
I thought on it for a moment, then shook my head. "No,
see about getting her moved to a care facility, even just
temporarily while Lucas heals. Then have Dallas run a
health check on the security at the facility in case Chase
decides to target her there."
"Yes, sir." Zed was all business as he pulled out his
phone and got to work.
"What can I do?" Cass asked, seeming to move closer
still. Or maybe that was just my imagination now that I'd
met his dark gaze.
A handful of completely inappropriate ideas flitted
across my mind, but I kept them to myself. Not the time or
the place. So I just smoothed out my face and pushed aside
my baser instincts to focus on business.
"Nothing," I told him firmly. "We've got this from here.
You have a gang to run. How's that search for a second-in-
command going, anyway? It's been over a year."
Cass's glower was pure death, because he knew damn
well what I was doing. I was reestablishing the political
lines that had become so very muddied in the last day and a
half. He had his place, just like I had mine. It was about
damn time we stepped back into them.
"I'm taking my time," he answered after a few beats. "No
one has impressed me enough so far, and I'd hate to
accidentally appoint a turncoat now—especially given how
many people seem to be secretly working for the
resurrected Chase Lockhart."
I shrugged like it didn't make an ounce of difference to
me if he had a second or not. "Your funeral, Cassiel. Not
having a second makes you an easy target. Make smart
choices."
His lips curved in that sly, sexy smirk, and he huffed a
short laugh at his own advice on my lips. "Cute. This isn't
over, Red."
I tilted my head to the side, playing dumb. "What isn't?"
His eyes narrowed. "This. Us. I know you've got bigger
things on your mind right now, but I'm not taking no for an
answer."
The audacity of some men was astounding. After all the
chances I'd given him... I shrugged. "Well, you know what
to do, then."
He gave a brief frown of confusion, then quickly realized
what I meant. "I thought you were joking about writing you
that letter."
I had been. But he didn't need to know that. "And I
thought you weren't interested." I started along the
corridor toward Zed, who was on the phone sorting out my
requests. He gave me another hard look, and I understood
his silent reminder. Pausing, I slid Cass's jacket off and
tossed it back to him.
"See you around, Saint."

OceanofPDF.com
5

I t was harder than I’d expected to force myself


away from Lucas's hospital room. But sitting in
his room watching him sleep simply wasn't an
effective use of my time. There were plenty of other things
I could be doing, plenty of things I should be doing. So I
left.
"I've got Boris and Rixby here watching the hospital,"
Zed informed me as we exited the building. "One of them
will head up to Lucas's room now and keep physical eyes
on him until further notice. The hospital staff will send
through any and all updates from his doctors when they
check on him in the morning too."
I drew a deep breath, feeling the ache of stress in every
damn muscle of my body. "Good. Good thinking. Thanks,
Zed." I yawned heavily, then scraped my hair up into a high
ponytail to try and stop messing it up. Running my fingers
through it was a stress fidget and tended to result in me
looking like a lion.
He unlocked his Ferrari with the key fob, then held the
passenger door open for me to get in. I didn't argue at the
chivalrous gesture; I was pretty used to it from him by now.
Instead, I just sank into my seat and cranked the heater up
while he circled around to the driver’s side.
"Did you call Seph back?" he asked as he drove us away
from the hospital and in the direction of our neighborhood.
I wrinkled my nose. "No. She should be asleep, anyway."
He just gave me a sidelong glare, calling me on my
bullshit without even needing to say a word. Yeah,
whatever.
"Why aren't you telling her about Lucas anyway?" he
asked, his eyes back on the road but his attention fully on
me. "She knows something has happened."
Ah crap. Zed was going to be totally insufferable when I
told him Lucas was in high school with Seph... and that she
had a huge crush on him.
I wasn't in the mood to deal with that, so I just shrugged
and avoided looking at him while I lied. "No reason. I'll talk
to her in the morning."
Zed slammed his foot down on the brakes hard enough
to make me jerk against my seatbelt, then moan in pain at
all my bruises.
"Shit," he muttered, cringing. "Sorry. But did you just
fucking lie to me?"
Wincing, I rubbed my chest where the belt had just
assaulted me. "What? No."
Zed gave a dramatic gasp. "You did it again!"
Rolling my eyes, I huffed. "Like you're one to talk right
now, Zayden. Can we please just go? I want to get home
and sleep for about six years."
His frown dipped low, but he did as I asked and
accelerated once more. Except he wasn't heading in the
direction of my apartment anymore.
"Zed..." I said his name in a low, suspicious growl.
"I'm not taking you back to an apartment that Chase has
already proven isn't secure. You can stay at my place until
this shit gets sorted." His tone was firm and unyielding, and
I was too tired to argue. So I just shrugged and settled in
for the ride. Seph was safe with Madison Kate, Lucas was
safe in the hospital, and hopefully Demi was on a plane to
Italy with her wife by now. Everyone I cared about was
safe.
Or as safe as they possibly could be in our world.
Besides, Zed had a point. My apartment was no longer
secure, while he lived in a veritable fortress. His house was
on acreage outside Shadow Grove and had been built to
mimic a Scottish castle, but in a modern, architect's-wet-
dream kind of way.
About half an hour of silence passed until we reached
his front gate, within which time I had fallen asleep and
jerked awake about a dozen times. I hated sleeping in cars.
Zed had a similar biometric access panel at his gate to
allow access, and I yawned heavily as we waited for the
decorative wrought iron gates to open.
"Take my room," he told me as we headed into the
house. He didn't have any staff because of trust issues, but
his lights were motion activated so the house lit itself up
before we got inside. "I haven't made up any of the guest
rooms, and you look way too tired to wait for me to find
sheets."
I should have declined, but fuck it. What were best
friends for if you couldn't occasionally claim their nice, cozy
bed? So I just nodded, yawned, and started up the grand
staircase without waiting for him.
In his room, I helped myself to one of his old T-shirts
that’d been stuffed into the back of his closet behind a
million and one designer button-down shirts and suits. I
changed and left my dirty clothes in a crumpled pile that I
knew would annoy the shit out of him and climbed into his
bed.
Before letting myself crash, I set my alarm for the
morning... then groaned when I saw it would only allow me
three hours sleep. Still, it was better than nothing, so I
tossed my phone onto the other side of the bed and closed
my eyes.
I could have sworn that barely a minute passed before
Zed shook me awake, and I snarled insults at him before
my eyes adjusted to the daylight and my brain processed
the fact that I had, in fact, slept.
"Whoa, Dare," Zed interrupted my mumbled abuse with
a smirk. "That was all a little harsh after I let you hog my
bed all freaking morning."
Huh? I blinked about a thousand times to try and find
my bearings and slowly remembered I was at Zed's house.
In Zed's bed. With him... shirtless... and...
Fuck's sake. This was far from the right time to start
developing feelings for him. Far fucking from it. I needed a
slap. Or a cold shower.
"What time is it?" I asked in a sleep-thick voice as I sat
up.
Zed was already propped up on one arm, his bicep
curled under him like—
"Shit, you asshole," I snapped, noticing the sheepish
look on his face. "You turned my alarm off, didn't you?"
He just gave a shrug like he didn't feel all that bad about
it. "You needed the rest and Alexi could fucking wait."
Fair point. "So why the fuck am I awake now?" I
muttered, climbing out of the bed and groaning at how stiff
and sore my whole body was. In fairness, it hadn't been
that long since I was thrown across the 7th Circle parking
lot by a gas explosion.
"Because Seph is blowing up my phone trying to get
ahold of you," he replied with a cringe. "And she sounds
pissed. I figured you might want to call her back before she
shows up here and sets fire to my house."
Crap’s sake. I exhaled heavily and raked my fingers
through my hair. Where did I leave my clothes? I was only
wearing underwear under one of Zed's shirts...
A moment later, I spotted my clothes from the night
before neatly folded on the chair in the corner and smirked.
"Yeah, alright," I said as I tugged my ripped, black
skinny jeans on. "I'll call her back."
Zed wrinkled his nose at me in disgust, still propped up
on his elbows in bed. "She can wait five minutes while you
shower. I'll reply and let her know you're here."
I glared back at him, not missing the implication that I
was dirty. But he was probably right, given how our night
had ended up going after we’d worked out where Lucas
was being held. There was every chance I had blood
crusted in my hair somewhere.
So I just flipped him off, grabbed the rest of my clothes,
and headed into his bathroom to shower. Seph could
definitely wait. So could that explanation about why Lucas
was in the hospital right now.
I kept my shower quick, then roughly towel dried my
hair when I was done. With clean skin, I was less than
excited about putting dirty clothes on. But I had shit that
needed to be done today, and it wasn't going to wait. Nor
was it going to get done while wearing borrowed clothes
from Zed.
My phone was sitting on the bedside table when I
emerged, so I grabbed it and scrolled for Seph's number
while I made my way downstairs. It only rang twice before
she picked up, and I steeled myself against whatever she
wanted to say.
"Seph, what's going on?" I asked her, slightly annoyed at
her persistence in getting ahold of me. For all she knew,
we'd had a break-in at the apartment and she was staying
at Archer's house until the security could be reset. That
was the best story I'd come up with in the heat of the
moment on Friday night.
"I'm five minutes away," she snapped down the phone at
me. "Tell Zed to make me breakfast."
I coughed a laugh. "Tell him yourself, your highness.
Jesus, Seph, what's with the attitude?"
There was a pause, then I heard her sigh. "Please? He'll
tell me to make it myself, but he won't say no to you."
A grin tugged my lips as I walked into the kitchen and
found Zed—as Seph correctly guessed—standing at the
counter and mixing up his family waffle recipe. "I'll think
about it," I replied to my sister, teasing. "Looks like he's
only making enough for me right now."
Seph gave a whine of protest. "Don't be mean! Oh, also,
I've got Kody with me because apparently I need a twenty-
four-seven bodyguard right now?" She phrased it like a
question, and I grimaced. No wonder she was blowing up
our phones to talk. I was usually a little more subtle with
her protection detail, but I should have known Archer had
told MK and in turn... Yeah, not surprising she was worried.
Or suspicious.
"See you soon, brat," I chuckled, then hung up on her
and gave Zed a raised brow. "You’d better double that
batch. Seph's on her way with Kody."
Zed didn't complain, just jerked a nod and set about
mixing up a second batch of waffle batter.
"You wanna tell me what's going on before she gets
here?" he asked quietly as he poured the first batch into his
waffle iron.
I wrinkled my nose and slid onto a stool at his kitchen
island. "Not really," I muttered. He'd already poured me a
huge mug of coffee and added a heavy splash of real cream.
He just gave a slow nod, his eyes on the cooking waffle.
"Fair enough," he replied after a moment. "So you don't
want to tell me about how Lucas is actually an eighteen-
year-old high school senior at Shadow Prep?"
I'd been taking a sip of my coffee when he said that and
promptly choked on it. Zed barely reacted to my coughing
fit, just cocked a brow at me while I spluttered and turned
red in my attempt to expel the fluid from my windpipe.
"What?" I squeaked when I could draw enough air into
my lungs.
"What?" he replied, blinking at me innocently. "You think
I don't run my own background checks on our new
employees?"
"Since fucking when?" I exclaimed, slamming my mug
down on the stone countertop. "Did Demi give you that
information? I'll fucking kill her!" And for once, I only
meant that as a figure of speech. I loved my aunt like a
second mother.
Zed just shot me a glare. "No, I had someone else run a
check on my little brother, and I'm sure you can imagine my
surprise when I found out the truth."
My cheeks were flaming and nothing I could do would
make them cool. Fucking hell. I really badly had not
thought things through before becoming involved with
Lucas.
"Since when?" I demanded again. He'd never run a
double background check on our dancers before, at least
not to my knowledge. Hell, we hardly ever ran background
checks at all if they were only being employed by Copper
Wolf as a legal worker. It was none of our business if
Aphrodite the exotic dancer was actually Diane Green, a
bored housewife from the Rainybanks suburbs.
Zed's cool snapped, and he smacked his hand down on
the counter with a flare of anger in his stare. "Since you
decided to give him additional job perks, boss. That's when.
When did you plan on telling Seph that you're fucking her
classmate?"
Uh... never. Probably. If I could get away with it...
"Why didn't you say anything sooner?" I asked in a cool
voice, deciding that I wasn't gaining any ground by letting
him drive the conversation.
He just glared at me for a long, tense moment, his gaze
full of judgment and accusation. Frustration. "I only got the
report while you were in the shower," he admitted after a
heavy pause. "I requested the search last night to check for
his health records."
Well shit, now I felt like an asshole. He hadn't been
prying into my love life; he'd been taking care of business.
Just like he always did.
I swallowed my pride and ducked my gaze back to my
coffee. "Well... trust me, it's worse than you think."
He gave a grunt of disbelief, flipping the first cooked
waffle out of the iron and pouring in fresh batter. "It can
get worse?"
As if the universe was laughing at me, his gate buzzer
sounded right then, announcing that my little sister had
arrived. Was it too early to start drinking? I definitely
needed something stronger than straight coffee.

OceanofPDF.com
6

Z ed buzzed Seph and Kody in, and a minute later


my far too energetic sister burst into the kitchen
where I was gulping coffee and quietly thinking about the
easiest escape routes out of Zed's fortress.
"Wow, you look like total crap," she announced when she
laid eyes on me, wrinkling her nose in disgust. Then she
shifted her gaze to the cooking waffles. "Oh, Zed... you're
making breakfast? I had no idea."
My second just snorted a laugh and shook his head.
"Sure. Sit down, Seph. Where's Kody?"
Seph slid into the seat beside me and waved her hand in
the direction of the front door. "He's waiting in the car.
Apparently, you guys are that unpleasant in the morning,
and he didn't want to risk getting shot."
Zed and I both glared death at my little sister, and she
snorted a laugh.
"Kidding. He had some work calls to make for KJ-Fit so
he said he'd wait outside, then drive me back to their place
later. Unless you want me to come stay here? The security
doors won't take that long to fix at home, right?"
The hopeful look she gave me was actually gut-
wrenching. I couldn't lie to her forever... It was only going
to get worse the longer I kept my mouth shut.
Zed came to my rescue, though, breaking the silence
when no words left my frozen lips.
"Actually, it's a bit more complicated," he said as he
plated up a waffle for each of us. With deft movements, he
chopped a banana and several strawberries to scatter over
the hot waffles, then drizzled them in maple syrup. To top it
all off, he added a scoop of ice cream, and Seph bounced in
her seat like an excited three-year-old.
"Complicated how?" she asked as she took a big forkful
of food.
Zed shot me a look like he wanted me to take the
opportunity and explain... but I really preferred to eat my
breakfast before Seph tried to claw my eyes out. So I just
filled my mouth with food like a big old coward.
He glowered at me, then shifted his attention back to
Seph. "The security breach is likely part of a bigger
situation we're currently dealing with. Until it's contained,
it's not safe for you to go home. For either of you." This was
added with a sharp look directly at me, and I narrowed my
eyes in response. I'd agreed to stay one night because I was
exhausted and hurting. I sure as fuck hadn't agreed to
move in with him indefinitely.
"Wait, what?" Seph squeaked. "How long are we talking?
I can't stay with MK forever, you know."
"Yes, you can," I mumbled around my food. "Already
cleared it with D'Ath."
She scowled. "No, I mean, I really can't. I love MK, don't
get me wrong, but holy shit she's loud in bed. I actually got
Kody to buy me earplugs this morning on our way over. If I
have to hear my friend begging for one of the guys to fuck
her ass one more time, I'm gonna puke."
Zed gave an exaggerated cough as he turned his back on
us, and I suspected he was trying to hide a laugh. I didn't
blame him, either, and only Seph's outraged stare kept me
from snickering myself.
"Well... too bad." I shrugged. "It's not safe to be at the
apartment."
Seph pouted. "What aren't you telling me?"
"Lots of things," I replied with a grimace. "But all you
need to know is that Archer and the boys will keep you safe
while we deal with this... threat."
She huffed but ate her breakfast in silence for a short
while. When she finished, she slid off her stool and took our
dirty dishes to the sink to rinse. Then she turned back to
face me with a troubled frown creasing her brow and
something quite clearly on her mind.
"I'm... going to go shower," Zed announced after an
extended pause. When neither my sister nor I responded,
he gave a nod and made a speedy exit from the kitchen.
"What's up, brat?" I asked Seph when we were alone.
"You're not seriously that grossed out by MK's sex life, are
you?"
Seph shook her head, giving a dismissive wave of her
hand. "No, that's... whatever. Good for her, right? Hashtag
girl power and shit." She folded her arms tightly, like she
was comforting herself, and her gaze skittered all around
the kitchen but never met mine.
"Okay..." I drew a breath. "So what's going on?" She
couldn't know about Lucas already. She was too... calm.
She drew a deep breath, then let it out in a heavy sigh
as she returned to her seat beside me at the counter. "It's
Lucas."
Oh shit.
"Uh..." I had nothing constructive to say here.
"It's not what you think," she rushed to say, and I
mentally replied, Fuck, I hope not.
"Okay... why don't you explain?" I suggested, licking my
lips when my whole damn mouth went dry.
She gave another dramatic sigh. "I know he has a
girlfriend and stuff; I totally get it. And I know I was being
super inappropriate pushy, too, which was totally not cool
of me because, like, what if that was me and some girl was
constantly hitting on my boyfriend, right? So, so not cool."
She was talking at a million miles an hour, but I was happy
to let her word vomit and save me the need to respond.
"Mm-hmm," I offered by way of agreement. She was
right too. Even without my involvement, it’d been a dick
move on her part when he'd already told her he wasn't
interested.
"Right. So that's half the reason I asked him over to
study on Friday night. I wanted to apologize and, like... be
friends. You know? Because he's a really cool guy and we
could totally just be platonic friends. Couldn't we?" She
gave me a pointed look, and I gave a slight shrug.
"I suppose..." Where the fuck is she going with this?
She gave me a pained frown. "Did he say anything when
you dropped him home the other night?"
I'd told her it was a minor break-in attempt on our
apartment, someone trying to pick the lock while Lucas
was still there, and that I had dropped him home so I could
deal with it. Yep. Big old liar.
"Like what?" Fuck it, I was playing dumb. It seemed like
the easiest course of action.
Seph shrugged, oblivious to my anxiousness. "I dunno.
But he hasn't replied to any of my messages, and I'm sort of
worried he finally got scared off. Did you say something?"
Oh geez. Of course he hadn't, his phone was still in our
apartment amidst the destruction caused by his fight with
my double-crossing Timberwolf. Also, he was in the hospital
recovering from a full twenty-four hours of beatings, a
brand, and a stab wound.
Blowing out a long breath, I peered down at my empty
coffee cup. I needed to rip the Band-Aid off before Seph did
something dumb out of ignorance and got herself in danger.
"Seph, there's something I've been meaning to tell you
about Lucas," I reluctantly gritted out. "I probably should
have told you when I first realized he went to school with
you."
Probably? Definitely.
"I already know," she said quickly, cutting me off before I
could speak again. I jerked my gaze up from my coffee mug
to look at her in alarm, and she gave me a sheepish smile.
"Cass told me."
My brain short-circuited. "Cass did what?"
Seph wrinkled her nose. "Don't be mad; he didn't know
it was a secret. He assumed I already knew that Lucas was
a stripper, and I mean, it totally explains his body, right?
And I know Zed does all the hiring and shit, so you
probably didn't even have anything to do with hiring him,
but anyway, I totally would never judge him for stripping.
It's just a job, right? And he needs the money for his mom,
so it's kinda admirable."
"Right." I blinked at her slowly. "Cass told you..."
She gave a small frown of confusion. "That Lucas was a
stripper at 7th Circle. Why? Was there something else?"
Crap.
That was my opening. I really, really wouldn't have any
excuses left if I didn't tell her now. She was going to
completely blow her lid, I already knew it. But the nice
thing about Seph was that her temper worked like
magnesium. It burned white hot in a flash, but quickly
extinguished. Once she'd screamed and thrown shit, she'd
get over it.
I hoped.
"Yeah," I finally forced myself to say, "so... okay, I'm
going to preface this by saying he gave a fake ID to get the
job at 7th." Seph's eyes narrowed, and I looked away. I
could stand up to the biggest bad guys around and not even
bat a lash, but my little sister? Nope. "So, in saying that..." I
drew a deep breath, then ripped the Band-Aid off. "I've
been sleeping with Lucas."
For a second, I thought she hadn't heard me. Then she
blinked, frowned, and shook her head. "What? No, you
haven't. He has a girlfriend."
I winced. "Uh, yeah. Me."
She shook her head again, a confused smile on her lips
like she thought I was messing with her. "No, because..."
She trailed off when I just met her gaze and didn't laugh.
Her expression slipped quickly, and her frown deepened.
"You've... you're the girl on his phone. H. She was saved as
H..." She blinked in disbelief, and I braced myself for the
screaming.
But it didn't come.
Instead, she just pursed her lips and swallowed heavily.
"I didn't realize you were in the habit of fucking your
dancers," she finally said with an edge of bitterness in her
voice.
I groaned. "I'm not. It was a one-off thing that just...
kept happening."
"And you never thought to tell me? After I poured my
heart out to you about how much I liked him? You never
thought, hey, maybe I should tell Seph that it's me who is
screwing him?" Then her brows shot up, and she looked at
me in horror. "Oh my god. That's why he kept coming over
to study? Because he wanted to see you?" She let out a
bitter laugh and slid off her stool. "I'm such an idiot," she
muttered under her breath, starting toward the door.
"Seph, where are you going?" I asked, sliding off my own
seat.
"Anywhere but here," she snapped back, but it wasn't
the diva tantrum I'd been expecting. No, this was just cold
fury. Fuck me, she was handling this completely unlike her.
She was handling it like me... and that was way worse.
"Fuck’s sake," I growled, following after her. "Seph,
that's not everything. You need to know—"
"Was there really a break-in?" she demanded, whirling
around to face me with a stonelike expression hardening
her features. "Or was that some bullshit excuse to get me
out of the way so you could fuck Lucas all over the
apartment?"
My brows shot up and my pulse raced. "Okay, you're
upset, so I'm not going to point out how insulting that was.
But now that you know about Lucas, I'll give you the whole
truth, shall I?"
She folded her arms and gave me a sarcastic look like
she wasn't going to believe me, no matter what I said.
I forced myself to set aside my anger and frustration,
though. She was upset, hurt, and the last thing I needed
was her ending up in danger for doing something dumb like
running away.
"The apartment was broken into, not just an attempt.
They’d gotten in and left before I called you that night." I
paused, gritting my teeth against the fresh anger and guilt
over Lucas's torture.
Seph just curled her lip in disbelief. "Oh yeah? And
where was Lucas during all this? I wasn't gone that long."
"They took him," I bit back, clenching my fists at my
sides. "And then they tortured him for over twenty-four
hours while Zed, Cass, and I tried to find him. Lucas isn't
returning your texts because he's in the hospital, Seph. He
almost died because he was sleeping with me, and my first
reaction was relief that it hadn't been you."
She said nothing for a second, then tightened her jaw
and gave me a hard look. "Who? Who took him?" She tilted
her chin up in determination like she was daring me to try
and lie to her. "Who are you trying to protect me from this
time?"
I swallowed heavily again. "Chase," I croaked, hardly
believing myself.
Seph looked stunned for a second, then she shook her
head with a harsh laugh. "You're a piece of fucking work,
Dare. You wanna tell me your dead ex tortured some high
school kid that you've been fucking? For what? You sure as
hell aren't in love. You've been using him, just like you use
everyone you meet. And when they're no longer useful, you
kill them. Just like you killed Dad when he wouldn't give
you the power you wanted. You're fucking sick, Dare. You
need professional help."
Her bitter accusation left me speechless, and I made no
move to stop her as she rushed out of Zed's house like
hellhounds were snapping at her heels.
I just stood there shocked and hurt, turning over what
she'd said in my mind even as the sound of Kody's car faded
into the distance.
"She didn't mean any of that," Zed murmured from
somewhere close behind me. The sound of his voice made
me flinch, and I shuddered to know he'd heard the whole
thing.
I cleared my throat, then turned to face him. "Yes, she
did. But that's okay. She can think whatever the fuck she
wants about me so long as she's alive and thriving." I wet
my lips and ran a shaking hand through my hair. "Give
Archer a call and let him know that he's to keep her safe
indefinitely. I don't want her around here until Chase is
dealt with."
Zed jerked a nod, but concern was painted all over his
face. "She's wrong, Dare. You know that, don't you?"
I let out a bitter laugh and shrugged it off. "Doesn't
matter if she is or not. I can't change the past, and I
wouldn't, even if I could. All we can do is keep moving
forward. Right?" I made to move past him, intending to
grab my phone from the kitchen then head into Copper
Wolf for our meetings. But he grabbed my arm before I
could pass, stopping me. His hold on my arm was tight, and
he used his other hand to grip my chin, forcing me to look
up at him.
"Hayden. She. Is. Wrong. You're the bravest, most
selfless, determined, and caring woman I've ever known.
There is nothing you wouldn't do for that girl, and she
needs to figure it the fuck out soon." His gaze locked on
mine with soul-deep intensity that did horrible things to my
flickering interest in him beyond our solid friendship. "The
next time she tries to cut you like that, I'm setting her
straight. I've had enough."
A small, humorless smile tugged my lips as I gazed up at
him. "You'll do nothing of the sort, Zayden De Rosa," I
whispered, totally lacking the emotional strength to push
my voice any louder. "I don't care if she thinks I'm Hannibal
fucking Lector, I won't rob her of the father she thought
she had." Because Seph had forever been daddy's little
princess. She’d never seen through his mask to the
monster lurking beneath. Never. "My word is law, Zed, and
you'd do well to remember that."
His gaze flicked away from mine for the briefest second,
flashing down to my lips a scarce few inches from his own.
Then his thumb stroked my cheek ever so softly before he
released me.
"Of course, boss," he murmured, already turning away
from me. "We should get going. Alexi is at Copper Wolf HQ
already."
There was a strange tightness to his voice as he said
that, and I frowned at his back as he walked ahead of me.
Something weird was going on with him.

OceanofPDF.com
7

Z ed and I stopped by my apartment on the way to


Copper Wolf, and I carefully ignored the trashed
furniture, broken glass, and dried blood as I passed
through to my room. All I needed was a change of clothes,
a lick of makeup, and a hairbrush.
"I'll have someone come by and pack up your things
later today," Zed told me as I dressed in a skin-tight leather
pencil skirt, deep-purple silk camisole, and deadly spiked
heels. And my gun holster, of course, but that pretty much
went without saying as I never went anywhere public
without it.
"Absolutely not," I replied as I peered into my mirror
and painted black winged eyeliner on. "I'm not having a
random creep handling all my shit. And I don't remember
agreeing to move in with you, Zayden De Rosa."
He met my gaze in the mirror as I arched a brow at him.
"You're not moving in, Dare, just staying while Chase is out
there waging psychological warfare on us. Safety in
numbers and all that. Besides, the security is already
compromised here. You're not moving back in, and we both
know it."
I huffed, but he was right. After one break in—
regardless of whether Lucas had opened the door himself—
the whole vibe of my apartment was fucked. I was never
going to get that same sense of comfort and safety within
these walls again.
"Whatever," I conceded, pissed as hell that Chase had
screwed up the home I'd built for Seph and I. With my
makeup finished, I gave my reflection a once over. The
bruises and patched burns on my shoulders and left
forearm were obvious as hell, but easily hidden by the
addition of a cropped leather jacket.
On our way out, I deactivated the biometric scanners on
the front door and just left it key-code locked. I wasn't
storing anything particularly valuable in my apartment;
only idiots kept a safe full of diamonds behind a
renaissance painting. My wealth was all secure in
investments, offshore bank accounts, and safety deposit
boxes. So I wasn't concerned about the decreased security
on the door. Biometrics were there to keep Seph and I safe
when we were home, nothing more.
"Let's take my McLaren," I said as we rode the elevator
down to the parking garage.
Zed twitched a smile at me. "You gonna let me drive it?"
"Wash your mouth out, Zed," I hissed back with disgust.
"You can't be trusted not to scratch her again."
His small smile spread wider into a chuckle. "Well then,
we'll take my car. You shouldn't be driving for at least a
couple more days. Or did you forget that you were recently
almost blown up along with 7th Circle?"
I glared but couldn't argue. My body was aching, and I
was too damn stubborn to take the prescribed painkillers.
Now, more than ever, I wanted to keep my wits about me—
at least until after I’d confronted my head of security about
the traitors in our ranks.
So I just grumbled my irritation and let Zed open the
passenger door to his Ferrari for me to get in. At least he
was a decent driver and I didn't feel like I was taking my
life into my own hands when he was behind the wheel...
like when I let Seph drive.
"What are you going to do about Lucas?" Zed asked as
we drove over to Rainybanks and the Copper Wolf main
office.
I gave him a sidelong glance. "What about him?"
He shot me an accusing look. "Chase took him to hurt
you, which means he knows you care about the adorable
little gumdrop."
I couldn't help the snort of laughter at that description
of Lucas, no matter how insulting it might be. He was a bit
of a gumdrop, all sweet and innocent. Flammable too.
"What can I do?" I replied with a small groan. "This is
the point in the movie where the heroine is supposed to
push the innocent victim of collateral damage away to
protect them and keep them away from the dangerous
criminal life."
Zed gave me a skeptical look. "Babe, I don't wanna be
the guy to break bad news... but you're no heroine."
I gave him an eyeroll. "No shit, Sherlock. Nor am I
selfless or noble or morally irreproachable. Chase probably
wants to tear down my support, take away all the people I
care about. And he started with the easiest target."
Zed nodded. "Gumdrop."
"Stop it," I murmured with amusement. "But
nonetheless. He wants me to be so consumed by guilt that I
push Lucas away and retreat into myself. Put my walls back
up. Second-guess my choices. Well, fuck that. All he's done
is reminded me to keep the few I care about closer than
ever."
Zed grunted a sound that could have easily been
agreement or otherwise but didn't say anything to clarify
his response. Instead, we drove in silence for some time
until his phone rang.
He answered it on the car's internal speakerphone after
giving the caller ID a cursory glance.
"Nico, what's the progress?" he asked, not waiting for
pleasantries from the caller. Nico was one of Zed's higher
ranking team members, a man with a lot of loyalty to the
Timberwolves and one of the least likely to be a double
agent. Then again, no one was above suspicion these days.
"All sorted, sir," Nico replied. "The nurse that went by
last night is getting Ms. Wildeboer ready for transportation
this morning. Sunshine Estate is preparing her room as we
speak."
I let out a small breath of relief to hear Lucas's mother
was getting the appropriate help. "Did you have any trouble
explaining things to her?" I asked, not caring that Nico
knew he was on speakerphone.
"No, sir," he replied, not skipping a beat. "The nurse told
Ms. Wildeboer that her son had sent her, as instructed. She
apparently wasn't happy to be leaving the house today, but
when it was explained that renovation crews will be
working on wheelchair accessibility, she accepted it."
"Good work," Zed replied. "Make sure she gets settled
into Sunshine and leave a protection detail on watch."
"Yes, sir," Nico responded. "On it."
The call ended, and I ran a hand over my hair. I'd woven
it into a tight dutch braid to keep it off my face, but the
habit was still there.
"I need to call the hospital and check on Lucas too," I
murmured, then stiffened when I realized I'd said that
aloud. The mere fact that I was thinking about him, was
worried for his well-being, it made me vulnerable. Then
again, if I couldn't let my walls down around Zed of all
people, maybe I really was the broken, heartless bitch Seph
thought I was.
Zed didn't question me, though. "We can stop by on the
way back from Copper Wolf," he suggested. "I'm sure
gumdrop will be ecstatic to see you."
He said it with a heavy dose of teasing that made me
smack him in the arm, but he just laughed and shrugged.
"What? I would be, in his shoes. I don't blame the poor kid
for falling head over heels in love at first sight."
I rolled my eyes. "He's not in love. It's just... lust. Or
something. Anyway, let's discuss a game plan for dealing
with our Timberwolves because I sure as fuck don't have
time to personally interrogate all three hundred and eighty-
seven members to find more traitors working for Chase."
Zed grimaced. "Agreed. But I had a thought about that
earlier."
We spent the rest of the drive to Rainybanks discussing
how we could both deal with Alexi—he needed a test of
loyalty—and weed through our ranks at the same time.
When we arrived, I wouldn't say we'd come up with the
most airtight of ideas, but it was something and that was
better than nothing. So, it'd do.
Alexi was waiting for us outside my office, his foot
tapping a nervous rhythm on the tiled floor and his temples
glistening with sweat. When he saw us approaching, he
shot up out of his seat like it was made of cacti.
"Boss," he greeted me, his eyes darting between Zed
and me.
I just gave him a small head tilt, a silent command to
follow us into my office, which he did. He shut the door
behind himself, then cautiously approached the desk as I
shrugged off my jacket and sat down.
"Alexi, I trust you're already up to speed on everything
that happened last night." I cocked a brow at him as he
hovered over the guest chair like he didn't know if he
should sit or not.
"Yes, sir. Absolutely. Fully informed." His expression
implied he really would rather not have that information,
but that was his job.
Zed let out an irritated sigh as he leaned against the
bookshelf at my back. "Sit down, Alexi; you're making me
irritated hovering like that."
Alexi jerked a nod and dropped into the vacant seat in
front of my desk. Out of habit, I pulled my Desert Eagle
from my underarm holster and placed it down on the
desktop. Yes, it was an intimidation move, but it was also a
comfort thing, considering how badly bruised and scraped
up I still was.
"What the fuck happened, Alexi?" I asked in a cool voice,
cutting straight to the chase. "My dancer was held and
tortured underneath Anarchy for twenty-four hours, and
none of us knew. You know who I found guarding the cell
door when we got in there?"
My head of security grimaced. "Reggie. Yes, I heard.
Wish I could’ve got my hands on him personally and draw
that death out for days."
I was inclined to agree. "This is the second traitor in the
ranks, Alexi. Last week it was an undercover FBI agent,
who I'm not altogether convinced wasn't also there under
someone else's orders. Now this?" I paused, letting the
tension build in the room. "I'm going to need a fucking
golden explanation, Alexi. This is happening on your watch.
Under your authority. Give me one reason why I shouldn't
shoot you right now?"
Alexi tilted his chin up slightly, meeting my eyes despite
the nervous sweat on his brow. "Honestly, sir, I don't have a
good enough reason. This happened under my watch, and I
need to bear responsibility. All I can do is apologize
sincerely and swear to you that I'll do whatever it takes to
prove my loyalty. I can't explain how this has happened so
far, but I can ensure it won't happen again, sir, if you allow
me the opportunity."
I held his gaze for a long moment, unblinking, then tilted
my head to Zed. Fortunately for Alexi, he'd given us the one
and only reason not to kill him. He hadn't lied or
backtracked or shifted blame into anyone else's lap. He
easily could have, too, given it was Zed's forged signature
that had allowed the undercover FBI agent to infiltrate our
ranks in the first place. But nope, Alexi had pulled his big-
boy panties up and taken responsibility.
It was admirable and ballsy. I appreciated it.
"We're willing to allow you a chance to prove yourself,
Alexi," Zed told him. "Take a deep dive into the
Timberwolves, personally speak with everyone under our
umbrella, and weed out anyone else that has been
corrupted. No one believes for even a second that these
two were isolated incidents. Where there's smoke, there's
fire. Smother that fire, Alexi."
Our head of security nodded firmly, relief clear across
his face. "Yes, absolutely. Yes. I can do that. Thank you, sir,"
he directed his thanks to me, and I just nodded to the door.
"You can go," I ordered. "Don't fail me, Alexi. I'd hate to
put a bullet in your brain."
He knew me well enough that he didn't fuck around
babbling more thanks. He just stood up, gave us both a
respectful nod, and beat a speedy exit out of my office. The
door closed softly behind him, and I spun in my seat to look
at Zed.
"What do you think?"
He shrugged, his hand resting on the gun at his belt. It
was just a casual pose, one he affected pretty damn often.
Yet... why was it suddenly striking me as sexy? Was that
intentional on his part?
"I think he's solid," he replied, his eyes steady on mine.
"Alexi has too much to lose to try and fuck us. But you're
right that he's the best resource we have to weed out any
other traitors. Hopefully, he finds them before any more
damage is done."
I nodded, then winced as I pushed myself up out of my
chair.
"You didn't take any painkillers today, did you?" Zed
asked, the accusation clear in his voice and his expression
as I tried to put my jacket back on with stiff arms.
"You know I didn't." I tucked my gun away and gave him
a pointed look. In other words, Don't fucking start with me
here, Zed. Not in my office with a phalanx of staff lurking
just outside the door.
He took my silent reminder and held the door open for
me to exit. I knew him too well to believe he was dropping
the subject, though. He had that stubborn look on his face
that promised me it was just on pause until we were alone.
Fucker. Lucky I loved his argumentative ass so much or
he'd have been shark food ten times over by now.

OceanofPDF.com
8

Z ed and I detoured via Anarchy on our way back to


his place to make sure everything had been
efficiently cleaned up from the mess of the night before. I
was pleasantly surprised to find a couple of the mid-ranked
Timberwolves had taken my orders quite literally and had
spent all morning working on mapping out the hidden
tunnels and checking the structural integrity to ensure my
repurposed amusement park wouldn't collapse into a hole
one day.
"They know," I commented to Zed as we left Anarchy
some hours later.
He arched a brow at me. "That someone is gunning for
our seat?"
I jerked a nod. "Not surprising, but irritating
nonetheless. We need to hurry up and deal with Chase
before anyone decides to plan a mutiny."
"Agreed, but that lot won't be the ones leading it." He
gave a nod in the direction we'd just come from, indicating
the Wolves who'd been working on Anarchy. "They sense
the danger in the air, and they're using it as an opportunity
to step up and prove themselves to you, boss. The
Timberwolves—for the most part—are all like that. A few
bad eggs don't mean we throw the whole basket out."
I frowned. "I never planned to throw the whole basket
out."
Zed gave me a look but said nothing. His meaning was
clear enough without needing to voice it because it
wouldn't be the first time I'd thrown the basket out. There
was no doubt in my mind that a lot of the deaths the night
my father died weren't necessary. I slaughtered a lot of
people that night who’d been innocent of the crimes that’d
forced my hand, but I’d been too paranoid, too angry to
offer any benefit of the doubt. Anyone who’d remotely
seemed suspicious had been killed.
"We're not there yet," I said quietly, staring out my
window. "Not even close. Besides, we built this version of
the Timberwolves ourselves, Zed. We personally selected
every single one of them for the first three years; I'm fully
aware that loyalty is strong within the Wolves. But... I
wouldn't have expected Reggie to be a traitor."
He'd been one of the security guards at 7th Circle, not in
my upper ranks, but not all that much lower. He'd been
with us since the beginning... but maybe that was the
problem. Maybe he’d had ties to Chase that I hadn't picked
up on in those early, blood-soaked days of my rule.
"Do you want to stop by the hospital and check on your
boy toy?" Zed offered, changing the subject.
I scowled. "Don't call him that. You're hardly in a
position to judge, given the dubious ages of your prior
conquests. Pretty sure Seph told me one of those girls only
recently graduated Shadow Prep."
Zed smirked. "At least she'd graduated."
I bit my lip to hold back my smile. He did not need
encouragement. "Yes, let's stop by quickly. We need to let
him know what's happening with his mom."
"You got it, boss," he replied with a nod, taking a turn
that would take us toward the private hospital Lucas was
being treated in.
The closer we got, the more I worried at my lip with my
teeth. For all my tough talk with Zed this morning about
refusing to back down and let Chase win... I was second-
guessing myself. It was selfish of me, no two ways about it.
I wasn't holding Lucas close out of some altruistic sense of
protection for him. It was because I liked him and didn't
want to let him go.
Like Zed had pointed out, I was no heroine.
"We'll keep this quick," I told him as we parked.
"If you say so," he murmured, walking beside me into
the hospital. We bypassed the nurses’ station and headed
straight up to the floor Lucas was staying on. "I've got
some calls to make. You go ahead."
I jerked to a stop a few feet away from Lucas's room.
"What calls?"
Zed gave me a deadpan glare. "Are you being a chicken
right now? Quit being such a girl, and get your ass in there.
Gumdrop took a knife to the chest for our shady history;
you at least owe him a personal visit."
My lips parted in surprise. "Zed—"
"Dare." He all but growled my name at me, and I
couldn't keep pretending things hadn't drastically changed
in recent weeks. Not only was he talking to me with casual
disrespect, he was frequently using my nickname.
Somehow, Chase rising from the dead was bringing Zed
and I back to each other... and I wasn't even slightly mad
about it.
So when he pointed at Lucas's room, I just flipped him
off and made my way inside. He was right. Lucas deserved
to see me, even if it was just to tell me he never wanted to
see me again.
Deep down, though, I knew he wasn't going to say that.
So when I entered his room and a smile like fucking
sunshine lit his face, I wasn't shocked.
"Hayden, you came back," he croaked, then cleared his
throat and winced. "I wasn't sure you would."
"Neither was I," I admitted, crossing over to the chair
beside his bed.
He struggled a bit to sit up straighter, then used the
mechanical bed remote to do the rest of the work. "Well,
I'm glad you did," he told me with a wide smile.
It was making me all kinds of squirrely, having him so
damn open with his emotions. Who the fuck was so
confident in their own skin in this day and age?
Lucas was. That's who.
"I had your mom moved to a care facility," I blurted out,
sidestepping the awkward, unfamiliar feelings that he was
stirring up in me. "Just temporarily, if she doesn't like it.
But figured it was better for you to know she was being
taken care of while you heal."
His brows had shot up with my first statement, and for a
moment he seemed speechless. Then he let out a long sigh
of relief. "Thank you," he whispered, running a hand over
his face. "Thank you, that was... you didn't need to do that.
She is still semi-mobile and would have been okay on her
own for a couple of days." He cringed as he said that, and I
knew he didn't believe what he was saying. Not to mention
how worried she would have been when he just didn't come
home.
"Well, it's done. Zed's got some of our guys finishing the
renovations to your place, but it might take a couple of
weeks while they wait on parts." I'd had several
conversations with the freshly appointed contractor while
we'd been at Anarchy and approved all the costs.
Lucas gave a small frown. "The ramps were completed
last week, though."
I gave him a long look. He'd had ramps installed over
any steps or ridges between doorways, but that was it—
which was understandable when money was tight. But the
work my guys were doing would mean his mom wouldn't
just be making do, she'd be comfortable.
"Has your doctor given you any updates on when you'll
be discharged?" I asked instead of explaining myself. He'd
only protest what he’d undoubtedly see as charity, I could
already tell.
He gave a small nod. "Maybe tomorrow. He just wants to
make sure the, uh, the burn on my chest isn't getting
infected." He wrinkled his nose, and my shoulders
tightened with tension.
"Lucas..." I trailed off with a sigh. Out of habit, I bit the
edge of my thumbnail as I searched for the right words, but
Lucas reached out and gently tugged my hand away from
my mouth.
"Don't bite your nails," he told me with mock scolding.
I stared at him a moment, stunned, then gave a sharp
laugh and shook my head. "Fucking hell, you just perfectly
imitated Zed for a second there. Anyway, I was going to ask
what you remembered about the man who took you. The
one who did all this." I waved to his hospitalized condition.
"You weren't super lucid when I saw you last night."
He grimaced but didn't let go of my hand. He just linked
our fingers together over the stiffly starched bedclothes. "It
was Reggie that attacked me at your place," he said,
confirming what I'd already guessed. "I checked the video
monitor like you told me, but I recognized him from 7th
Circle and assumed—wrongly, of course—that it was okay
to open the door."
Fury burned through my veins, and I once again wished
I hadn't killed Reggie so damn quickly when we'd found
Lucas last night.
"Was he there for you?" I asked, swallowing past my
anger. "Or Seph?"
Lucas gave me a firm nod. "Definitely for me. The eye-
patch dude who came in after Reggie had beaten the shit
out of me spouted some crap about how I deserved it for
daring to put my hands on his woman." He quirked a
bruised eyebrow at me, and I blew out a long breath.
"I'll tell you," I whispered, answering his silent query.
He gave a small nod. "But not here. I can accept that. Is
Seph okay?"
I groaned. "She's fine. Safe. But... kinda pissed at me. Or
us."
Lucas's brows shot up. "She knows?"
"It was unavoidable, so yeah. And she's far from happy
with me right now, but she'll get over it. Eventually." Or
maybe she wouldn't, and she'd hate me forever. But I could
live with that, knowing she was still safe from the sins of
our family.
"Fuck, I'm so sorry, Hayden," Lucas murmured, his eyes
full of sincerity and guilt. "I should have said something
from that first moment..."
I just shrugged. "Can't change the past, Lucas."
"I have to confess something," he said, then bit his lower
lip in a way that was far too distracting. There was a
scabbed split on one side, but it did nothing to detract from
how lush his mouth was.
A flutter of dread spawned inside me. "Is this the part
where you tell me you're some kind of double agent
working for my enemies?" I said it like a joke, but part of
me still wondered if it might actually be the truth. It was
such coincidental timing to have met Lucas the same night
Chase triggered his first attack on my business... Before
he’d been attacked and nearly killed, all signs had pointed
to Lucas being more than he seemed.
His brow dipped at my suggestion. "Uh, no. Is that what
you think? No, I was gonna admit that I’d guessed you and
Seph might be related before I got into your car that day.
That first night at 7 th Circle? I thought I recognized you
from school, but before you even spoke, I’d known I was off
the mark. Then... I dunno. You looked at me and I was
just... gone. That sounds stupid, huh?"
My mouth had gone dry, and I needed to swallow before
I could respond. Our fingers were still linked together, and
suddenly I was hyperaware of every place our skin touched.
"Not stupid," I finally managed to say. "Just... unfamiliar.
I'm not used to people in my world being as good as they
seem, and you..." I trailed off with a small laugh, shaking
my head as his thumb trailed a pattern over my inner wrist.
"You seem better. It scares me that you're gearing up to rip
my heart out." I whispered that confession so quietly it was
barely audible, then instantly panicked that I'd given away
too much of me.
I tried to pull free of his hand and stand up, but Lucas
wasn't letting me get away so easily. His fingers tightened
on mine, and he tugged me forward. It was a move I hadn't
been expecting, especially considering his injured state, so
I lost my balance. Only quick reflexes saw me hit the bed
and not land my entire weight on top of him.
"Lucas!" I protested, trying to push myself up again. He
just grinned, though, threading his hand into the back of
my hair and kissing me. I mean, kissing me like I was his
entire freaking world. Like my lips were the only thing
sustaining him.
Fuck it. I kissed him back. After all, he had taken a hell
of a beating thanks to me and my mistakes. I owed it to
him. Not just to kiss him, but to stop lying to him about how
I felt. Short story, I liked him. I liked how I felt when I was
with him. I barely even recognized the girl he brought out
of me, and that was a good thing. So I kissed him back until
we were both hot and bothered, our breathing rough when
we broke apart.
"Dammit, Lucas," I muttered, our faces still just a scant
inch away from each other. "That's not what I came here
for."
His grin spread wide. "Are you sure, though?"
Unable to help myself, I smiled back at him as I
reluctantly straightened up and untangled myself from his
hold. "Pretty sure. I just wanted to see that you were okay,
that's all."
"Because you care about me," he whispered, teasing.
I rolled my eyes. "You're not bad, I guess. Anyway, I've
got guys keeping an eye on the hospital, so you're safe
while you're here and your mom is safe at Sunshine
Estate."
His brows rose. "Sunshine Estate? That place costs—"
"Lucas," I growled, giving him a firm headshake. A soft
knock on the door announced Zed a second before he
entered the room. "Just rest up and get better. I'll sort out a
safe place for you to stay after you get discharged."
"He's already got one," my second offered, folding his
arms over his chest. He'd rolled his shirtsleeves up at some
point during the afternoon, and his strong, tattooed
forearms looked all kinds of incredible. "He can stay in one
of my guest rooms until Chase is dealt with."
My jaw hit the damn floor.
"Uh..." Lucas was just as speechless as I was.
Zed gave a small shrug. "You're a weakness for Hades,
Gumdrop. We can't risk Chase snatching you again to play
bait in a trap. So you'll stay at my place, and for the love of
liquor, you'll learn how to protect yourself better. Clear?"
What in the fuck was happening?
"Um, yes. Clear. Thank you, sir," Lucas stammered,
giving Zed a wide-eyed nod of thanks.
Zed gave him a small nod in response. "Good. We’d
better go, boss. Our errand boy is almost back to my place
with your things."
Still stunned, but not totally hating this idea, I gave
Lucas a quick kiss and told him to rest, then followed Zed
out into the hall. He walked beside me out of the hospital
like nothing weird had just happened, and I pinched myself
before we got into his car. You know, just in case I was
trapped in some weird fever dream.
I wasn't. It was just my life, for better or worse.
OceanofPDF.com
9

Z ed's so-called errand boy was already waiting at


his front gate when we pulled up, and I couldn't
stop the snort of laughter that escaped me when I saw who
it was.
"Errand boy, huh?" I commented.
Zed shot me a smirk. "What? He wanted to be useful."
He unlocked the gates, and Cass followed us up to the main
house on his bike.
"Did you get what I asked for?" Zed barked at Cass as
we got out of the car.
The big biker swung his leg over his bike and shot Zed a
scathing glare. "I'm not an idiot," he growled back,
unclipping some tightly packed bags from the sides of his
bike. "Not exactly a hard request."
Zed didn't elaborate on that, just led the way into his
castle-ish home. Giving Cass a curious look, I started to
follow. He cocked a brow at me in response, then ran his
dark gaze over my outfit, lingering appreciatively over my
tight leather skirt, before he gave me one of those micro-
smiles that made me all hot and bothered.
"After you, sir," he gestured for me to cross the
threshold ahead of him, and I rolled my eyes. I'd definitely
lost my scary edge around these men. And I didn't totally
hate it either.
I brushed past him and threw a little extra swing in my
step as I led the way into Zed's foyer. In fairness, I was
wearing stiletto heels, so it would have been hard not to
walk with at least a little sexiness.
We headed through to the open-plan kitchen-living area
where Zed was already grabbing drinks from the fridge for
us all. Cass dropped the bags he was carrying, then took
two steps closer to me. He dipped low, brushing his lips
across my ear.
"Tease," he accused in that graveling rumble that set my
nipples tingling.
"Food should be here any minute," Zed announced,
tossing a bottle of beer across to Cass. The grumpy fuck
caught it easily, then popped the cap off with his teeth.
Ugh. That was so bad for his enamel but also so damn sexy.
"Dare," Zed said, jerking my attention away from the
way Cass's lips were wrapped around the mouth of his
beer. Cass shot me a wink, knowing damn well I was
staring.
"Hmm?" I focused on Zed and tried really hard to
pretend Cass wasn't smirking at me.
Zed rolled his eyes, seeming exasperated. "I've got pinot
noir or malbec. What's your poison tonight?"
I wrinkled my nose, considering the options, then shook
my head. "Neither, unless you want me to fall asleep on the
couch. Just give me some whiskey."
"Yes sir," he replied, putting away the wine glass and
exchanging it for a rocks glass.
I gave the bags Cass had brought in a curious glance,
then tilted my head toward him. "What's with the luggage,
Grumpy Cat? You moving in, too?"
He raised a brow at his nickname, then gave a slight
headshake. "Nope, those’re yours. Zed told me to pick up
your clothes and shit so you wouldn't need to go back to
your apartment. I could only fit so much on my bike,
though, so I'll grab the rest tomorrow when I've got my
car."
Surprise rippled through me, and I gave Zed a confused
look.
He shrugged. "You didn't want some rando going
through your shit, and I didn't trust Alexi not to steal your
panties or something. Cass seemed like the logical choice."
"How's the kid?" Cass asked, changing the subject as he
sat down on one of Zed's barstools with his beer in hand.
Zed slid my drink over to me, and I took the stool beside
Cass. Somehow the whole area seemed to shrink, though,
because there wasn't enough space to sit without our knees
touching.
"Stop calling him a kid," I chastised after a sip of my
liquor. "Next time I have to remind you, I'll deliver the
message with a right hook. Clear?"
Cass looked awfully like he was about to smile but
swiped a hand over his mouth instead and gave a small
nod. "Fair enough. How's Lucas then?"
"Gumdrop," Zed muttered under his breath, and I threw
a piece of ice from my drink at him. Damn. That only left
me two cubes, and I really liked three. Odd numbers sat
more comfortably with me than evens.
"He seems to be doing well," I said, replying to Cass's
question, "getting discharged tomorrow and in pretty good
spirits."
Zed scoffed. "That's one way to put it. He looked like he
wanted to fuck you right there in the hospital bed after
nearly dying yesterday. Gumdrop has stamina, I'll give him
that."
I shot him a sly smirk. "You don't know the half of it."
Zed choked on the sip of beer he'd just taken and
coughed violently for a moment. Served him fucking right.
The gate buzzer sounded, and Zed took the opportunity
to escape and answer it. If he'd ordered us food, I was
willing to bet it was wood-fired pizzas from Massimo's.
Zed's heritage was Tuscan, and although he'd never
actually been to Italy, he always seemed to find the
authentic eateries wherever we were.
"Let's head out to the patio," Zed called out to us as he
headed for the door to collect our food.
I didn't question his suggestion, just slid off my stool and
carried my drink outside. Zed had an impressive outdoor
lounge area set up with a gas firepit. It was cold enough
out in the night air that I paused to flick a switch on, and a
moment later the fire was crackling away with a warm
glow. For all Zed's love of medieval architecture, he was a
sucker for conveniences.
Cass sat down closer to me than he might have a month
ago, and I didn't shift away. Fuck it. I liked him showing his
hand... even if I was still stubbornly refusing to make
another move on him. Let him do the chasing. It was about
damn time.
But then... there was still Lucas. He said he didn't care
that I had something going on with Cass... but did he mean
it? Or was he just saying what I wanted to hear?
Ugh. This wasn't me. I wasn't the girl who second-
guessed her actions. I was the woman who took what she
wanted, and consequences be damned.
"Here," Cass murmured, pulling a leather pouch from
his pocket. He unzipped it and took out a rolled joint, then
handed it to me and tossed the pouch on the table between
us and the open flame of the firepit.
I eyed the joint, then quirked a brow at him. "I don't
know if this is the best idea under current circumstances."
He leveled me with a hard stare. "I know that you
refusing to take painkillers is a pretty fucking bad idea,
Red. Your body needs a break. This or meds, your choice."
My pulse sped up at the thinly veiled threat behind his
words. "Oh yeah? What are you going to do, Grumpy Cat?
Hold me down until I comply?"
His dark eyes flashed with something all too suspiciously
like amusement. "If I have to. You either look after yourself
or we will do it for you. No one needs you turning into a
martyr, Hades. That's not going to get this fucking
cockroach caught and killed."
Shock rippled through me. "We?"
"Yes, boss," Zed answered, striding over the pavers
carrying a stack of pizza boxes. He always ordered too
many. "We. Cass and I apparently have something in
common after all."
I scoffed a bitter laugh. "I'd say you have plenty in
common."
Neither one of them responded to that, just exchanged a
look as Zed placed the pizzas down in front of the fire.
I silently cursed the two of them out for ganging up on
me but gratefully accepted my pizza from Zed when he
located it. Authentic margarita with buffalo mozzarella and
added prosciutto and garlic. So tasty.
Curious, I peered over at the pizza Zed handed to Cass,
then gave him a quizzical look. "Really?"
He gave me a level stare. "What? I like what I like."
Holding my gaze, he took a huge bite from his vegetarian
pizza topped with grilled eggplant, sun-dried tomato,
mushrooms, and artichokes.
Zed took the joint from the table, brought it to his lips,
and lit it. He took a long drag but made no move to hand it
over when I glared. Instead, he just held eye contact with
me, unblinking and intense as he released the smoke from
between parted lips.
How the fuck was he making my pulse race so hard? He
was my friend. My best friend. I needed to stuff my libido
back in its cage before I ruined that.
Instead of handing the joint to me, he passed it to Cass.
When the hell had those two become so friendly? It was
weirding me out. But... I also kind of enjoyed it. I liked that
the three of us could hang out like this... like friends. Even
if Cass did have his own gang to run.
Cass shifted in his seat, reclining his long body back
against the cushions and letting his thigh rest against mine.
The couch was not that small.
Okay. So, friends with a whole truckload of sexual
tension filling the air. And a small part of me wished Lucas
was there with us... even if I was having a hard time seeing
how in the hell he could ever fit into our dynamic, sweet,
innocent gumdrop that he was.
Cass propped a boot up on the edge of the table, and I
could feel his eyes on the side of my face as he took a drag
on the joint. I stubbornly refused to look, though. I was too
worried my own control would snap and I'd launch myself
at the sexy fuck.
Exaggeration, for sure. I wasn't generally prone to
thoughtless acts of pure hormone and desire. Then again, I
also wasn't prone to developing feelings for a guy five years
younger than me, yet here we were.
"Everything okay with mini-Red?" Cass asked after some
moments of silence. I'd somehow managed to inhale almost
half my pizza in that time and wasn't even sad about it.
What I was sad about was that I'd run out of liquor. Despite
Cass’s insistence that I dull my pain with weed, he wasn’t
actually going to force me into doing anything I didn’t want
to do. He was smarter than that, and respected me enough
to make my own smart choices.
I wrinkled my nose at the empty glass in my hand, then
gave Zed my best pleading look. He didn't even make me
ask, just took the empty glass and headed inside to refill it.
"She's... safe," I answered Cass's question, placing my
pizza box on the table and shifting slightly so I could look at
him. "She's also not my biggest fan right now, and I don't
expect that's going to change anytime soon." His brow
quirked in silent question and I stifled a small groan. "I told
her about Lucas."
He just held my gaze for a long moment, then
understanding seemed to dawn on him and the corners of
his mouth twitched. "Oh dear," he murmured with more
than a heavy dose of amusement. "Something tells me Seph
might have had a bit of a crush on your boy toy."
"Stop it," I muttered, "he's not a boy toy. He's almost
nineteen."
Cass scoffed. "Uh-huh, that makes so much difference.
She's staying with Arch and the boys?"
I nodded. "Yep, and they're aware of the situation. She's
well-protected there."
Cass took another drag off the joint and blew out the
smoke in a long exhale. "Well, that's one less thing on your
mind. She'll come around."
I wasn't so sure. But then again, it wasn't like she'd been
dating him. It didn't matter, anyway, so long as she was
safe. We could iron out our differences after Chase was
back where he belonged: six feet under.
"Are you going to share that or what?" I demanded,
nodding to the joint between his thumb and forefinger.
A sly smile touched his lips as he handed it over. "And
here I was thinking you'd make me follow through on that
promise."
That utter fucknut had to wait until I'd taken a deep
draw on the joint before saying that. So when I clicked
about what he meant, I choked on the smoke like some kind
of total first-timer.
"You okay, boss?" Zed asked, coming back over with my
refilled glass. This time it was just a fingerbreadth from the
top and had five ice-cubes.
"Fine," I replied in a strangled voice, handing the joint
back to Cass, who looked far too fucking smug for his own
good. Whiskey probably wasn't the recommended way to
recover from a coughing fit, but it suited me just fine.
With the liquor burning a happy path all the way to my
stomach, I closed my eyes and leaned back in my seat. As
much as I hated being told what to do, Cass was right. I
needed something to take the edge off my bruises and
muscle aches. It'd barely been five days since the explosion
at 7th Circle, and pushing myself so hard to find Lucas had
taken its toll.
Zed sat back down on my other side, this time a whole
lot closer than before he'd left, and I tilted my head to give
him a small smile. Shit was completely blowing up in my
life—literally—but I was having a hard time regretting it.
Obviously, I wished Lucas hadn't been hurt. I'd never have
wished that on him. But I liked suddenly feeling like me
again. Like a real fucking person and not the hard-edged,
cold-blooded murderess that Hades was.
Cass and Zed fell into quiet conversation about gang
shit, and I let the low sounds of their voices just float over
me while we passed the joint back and forth for a while,
replacing it with another when the first burned out.
"I appointed a second," Cass informed us at some point
when my glass was nearly empty again.
I cracked one eye open—when had I even closed them?
"Oh?"
It'd been over a year since he’d taken over the Reapers,
and I was beginning to think he didn't trust anyone in his
own gang enough to appoint them as his second-in-
command. Not that I blamed him. After the snake that was
his predecessor, I wouldn't trust so easily either.
He inclined his head. "Roach."
It took me a moment to muster up a face for that awful
name. "The scrawny kid?" I asked, frowning with confusion.
Cass smirked. "Older than Lucas, but yeah, that's him.
I've had my eye on him since before Zane's fuck up; he just
needed a bit more time under his belt. Now, I reckon he's
ready to step up."
I peered at him from sleepy eyes. "Interesting choice," I
murmured. "But a good one."
He met my gaze with heavy intensity. "I'm glad Hades
approves of my decision."
I was too high and drunk—what a combination—to form
a snappy reply, so I just drained the rest of my glass and
closed my eyes once more. The two of them continued their
conversation, discussing Roach's promotion in the Reapers
and how things were going with the former Wraiths that
Cass had added to his ranks.
Slowly, little by little, I slouched lower on the couch until
my head was resting on Zed's shoulder. Then I started
getting a pain in my neck, so I shuffled my sleepy butt
around until my head was in his lap with my legs extended
across Cass. I was still wearing my skin-tight leather skirt,
which stifled my movements enough that this was the most
comfortable I was going to get, short of taking my ass to
bed.
One of them snorted a soft laugh, but I wasn't sure
which of them it was. It didn't matter, because within a
second they were back to their chatter—this time about the
stats of upcoming fights scheduled at Anarchy. As they
talked, Zed played with my hair, loosening it from the tight
braid and twisting it around his fingers absentmindedly.
Cass's hands rested on my calves, and after a few minutes,
he started tracing a soft pattern over my bare skin.
Yeah, I was in heaven.

OceanofPDF.com
10

W hen I woke up in Zed's bed once again, it took


me a hot second to remember how the hell I'd
ended up there. Then it slowly came back to me, and I
remembered leaving Cass and Zed drinking and smoking in
front of the firepit to hunt for a guest room. None of them
had been made up with bedding—of course, Zed and I had
been gone all day—and I was tired enough that I’d just
headed back to Zed's room and claimed a T-shirt and stolen
his bed.
Perks of being his bestie, I figured.
I was alone in bed, and I took a few minutes to wake up,
stretching my arms over my head and testing my muscles.
Thankfully, I wasn't hurting anywhere near as much as the
day before. My bruises and scrapes were finally healing up
enough that I could feel normal. Or semi-normal. Normal
enough.
Eventually, I sat up and looked around for my phone. I
spotted it where I'd left it, plugged into Zed's charger
beside the bed. But I also found a folded sheet of paper
with Red scrawled across it in messy handwriting.
I blinked at it a couple of times, wondering if I was still
half-asleep, then reached over and picked it up. For some
unexplained reason, my heart was racing at a million miles
an hour as I unfolded the paper and stared down at the
thick block of messy handwriting in front of me. Then I
started reading, and I couldn't wipe the smile from my face.
He'd taken me so literally. It was a love letter in every
sense of the word... with a distinctive Cassiel Saint twist.
Several parts made me snort with laughter, and more parts
than that made my nipples hard and my pussy clench. By
the time I got to his signature at the bottom, I was more
worked up than I'd been since... uh, since I'd been grinding
all over Lucas on the dance floor at Scruffy Murphy's those
three weeks ago.
"Shit," I breathed, flopping back down into Zed's pillows
with the letter still clutched in my hand. My whole body
was aching, turned on like I never knew ink on paper could
get me. But... goddamn. For a man of so few spoken words,
Cass had a way with the written word.
For a hot second, I contemplated handling business
myself right then and there, but before I could get my hand
into my own panties I remembered where I was. Zed's bed.
As much as my friend liked a bit of exhibitionism, I
doubted he'd appreciate finding me masturbating in his bed
—especially while I was thinking about another guy. Or
hell, maybe he'd be into that?
With a groan, I sat up and raked my fingers through my
hair. I needed to pull my shit together. I needed to go find
Cass and tell him—show him—exactly what I thought of his
love letter. Maybe then I could stop acting like such a horny
teenager. Or maybe it'd make me worse, but I was willing
to give it a try.
Climbing out of Zed's comfy bed, I spotted Cass's bags
near the door. He must have delivered them along with his
letter after I'd already fallen asleep. No shock that I hadn't
woken up, considering how stoned I'd been.
I rifled through, searching for some clean clothes, and
pulled out a pair of black skinny jeans, a charcoal gray
bodysuit that showed off a decent amount of side-boob,
and... no underwear. Not a single pair of panties were to be
found in either bag. Nor had he packed me any shoes.
Fucking men were so dense sometimes.
With a sigh, I figured I could make do, so I took my
clothes with me into the bathroom. I showered quickly, not
washing my hair, then dressed as my stomach loudly
rumbled and twisted with hunger. I'd grabbed my makeup
when Zed and I had stopped at my apartment yesterday, so
I made quick work of my face, then finger-combed my loose
curls to tame my mane.
When I looked pretty damn presentable—even with my
yellow-green bruises showing in the sleeveless bodysuit—I
made my way downstairs with bare feet in search of food.
Zed never fucking let me down. Never. He was already
hard at work in the kitchen cooking up what smelled like
omelets and freshly baked bread. Was he for freaking real?
I padded over to where he stood at the stove, an apron
tied around his neck and earbuds blasting music in his
ears, and wrapped my arms around his waist in a tight hug.
He leaned back into me, reaching up to tug his ear buds
out. "Good morning, sleeping beauty."
"Zayden... did you bake bread this morning? What the
fuck, dude?" I smiled up at him when he grinned wide.
"Technically, no. The bread maker did. I just threw the
ingredients in last night and set the delayed start so it'd
finish in time for breakfast." He arched a cocky brow at me,
flipped the cooked omelet out onto a waiting plate, then
spun around to loop his own arms around my waist.
His thumbs hooked in the loops of my jeans and a slight
tug pulled me in closer so we were chest to chest.
"Still counts," I told him, tilting my neck to hold his soft
gaze. "Thanks for letting me steal your bed again. I was
wrecked last night."
His lips curled in a teasing smile. "No shit. You snored
too." I pulled away slightly, a little horrified, but he tugged
me back into his hold with a laugh. "I'm kidding, you
sensitive petal. Hungry?"
My stomach howled. "Starving," I groaned.
Zed's gaze darkened. "I know that feeling." His words
were barely more than a murmur, but the sound of a door
slamming startled me out of his embrace.
"Who—"
"Good morning, Red," Cass rumbled, loping into the
kitchen in nothing but a pair of low-slung jeans with the top
button undone. Water dripped from his floppy mohawk
haircut and ran in a tantalizing line down his ripped, ink-
covered chest.
Zed brushed some hair away from my face, then brought
his lips to my ear. "Careful, boss, you're drooling all over
my kitchen floor." My jaw snapped shut, and Zed snickered
a soft laugh. "Subtle. Real subtle."
"Fuck you," I hissed, turning my back on Cass and
reaching for the omelet Zed had just finished.
My friend shot me a wink. "One of these days, I might
call your bluff on that." Then he just continued making
omelets like nothing had happened.
And there went my appetite. How the shit was I
supposed to enjoy my breakfast while psychoanalyzing
what the ever-loving shit he meant by that? Oh yeah, that's
right. Zed was an incredible cook. I'd suffer through my
delicious breakfast and shove that weird comment aside to
unpack later.
"How come you're still here?" I asked Cass instead as I
carried my plate over to the island and perched on a stool.
He quirked his scarred brow at me. "It's not safe to
drink, smoke, and drive a motorbike, Red. You know that."
I hummed a sound of agreement. It was a fair point.
"How'd you sleep?" he asked, sliding into the stool
beside me and making no attempt to put a shirt on. Where
even was his shirt? More to the point, was that a nipple
piercing?
Focus. On. Food. Must keep my focus on the food and
not the half-naked man beside me.
"Great, thanks," I replied, taking a bite of my breakfast
to save myself from giving any more information than that.
He ran a hand over that short beard. Or long stubble. It
was somewhere in between, and despite my usual distaste
for beards on men, Cass was seriously rocking that look.
"Hmm," he murmured. "Read anything good lately?"
I'd been expecting something, so I managed not to
choke on my food. I chewed, swallowed, then met his
heated gaze with a perfectly collected expression. "I did.
Some very... enlightening material, thank you. The author
seemed to have a lot to say for himself, which was rather
surprising."
Cass gave an amused sort of grunt. "Sounds like he was
inspired."
"Sounds like he has a filthy fucking mind hiding under
all that ink, and I need brain bleach to erase the pure smut
I was subjected to in delivering that letter." Zed gave an
exaggerated shudder and slid a freshly made omelet over
the island to Cass.
My face flamed hot and a strangled sound escaped my
throat as I stared at Zed. He'd read it? Oh... fucking hell.
"Shouldn't read shit not addressed to you, De Rosa,"
Cass rumbled, totally unapologetic.
Clearing my throat, I decided I really wasn't in the mood
for... whatever the fuck seemed to be going down between
the two of them. It felt awfully like some kind of pissing
contest, and I wasn't here for that.
"Have we heard anything from the hospital about
Lucas's release?" I asked Zed, firmly changing the subject
as he tipped a fresh, steaming loaf of bread from his bread
maker.
"Nothing yet," he replied as he cut some thick slices. "I'll
call and ask for an update after breakfast."
I jerked a nod, shifting my brain into business mode. "I
need an update from Alexi, and I'm hoping like hell he isn't
a traitor, too."
Cass scoffed. "Alexi? No way. Loyal to a fault and totally
in love with you, Red."
Zed shot me an I told you so look, which I brushed off.
"Don't you have a gang of your own to be running today,
Saint?" I quirked a brow at Cass, who seemed to have no
fucking issues holding my gaze in return. So much for
being turned off by my cold Hades face. Or maybe my bare
feet that didn't quite reach the floor were killing my badass
vibe.
He shrugged. "Nah, my new second needs to get his feet
wet."
I rolled my eyes. "How convenient."
"Besides," he continued, shifting subtly closer to me so I
could legitimately feel his body heat radiating from his bare
flesh. That was definitely a nipple piercing. "I promised I'd
pack up the rest of your things today and Seph's."
I met his eyes with a whole lot more cool and calm than
I was actually feeling. “I think I can handle it, big guy. But
we appreciate the assistance last night.”
“And the weed,” Zed added, oh-so-helpful this morning.
“That was good shit. But we've probably got it from here."
Cass arched his scarred brow at Zed, a flicker of
disbelief on his face. Then he turned to me with a hard,
accusing glare. "Oh, hell no."
I tilted my head to the side, a spark of amusement
warming me as I saw the defiance in his eyes. "Excuse
me?"
He glared harder. "I said hell no. You two are not
shutting me out again now." He slid off his stool and carried
his empty plate to the sink like the politest houseguest.
"Come on, Red. We'll go swap my ride on the way."
Without waiting for me to agree—or decline—he
sauntered his fine ass out of the kitchen. I assumed he’d
gone to find the rest of his clothes, but with Cass, nothing
was certain.
"Stubborn fucker," I muttered, not shifting from my seat
but letting my eyes drift in the direction he'd just
disappeared like I could see through the walls and eye fuck
him as he dressed.
Zed huffed a sound of agreement, or irritation, then
dropped a hot slice of bread onto my plate. It was covered
in melting butter, and my mouth watered at the sight of it.
Not to mention the smell. Nothing smelled as good as
freshly baked bread.
"You're the best, Zed," I groaned before taking a bite of
the buttery bread.
He shot me a smirk and a wink. "I know how you like
your bread buttered, boss."
What the fuck?
He was lucky I'd already swallowed that mouthful or I
would have choked on it. Prick. Was he just messing with
me for fun? When had we slipped back into this teasing
shit? Not that I was complaining... I was enjoying it.
"Perv," I muttered, then took another bite, trying not to
think too hard about the vaguely flirty comment. "I bet you
don't." I sent him a wink of my own, and he didn't laugh
like I expected.
Instead, he just held my gaze as he rubbed his palm over
his shadowed jaw. "Sounds like a challenge."
My brows shot up. But before I could dig myself into a
deeper hole with pseudo-flirty Zed, Cass yelled from
somewhere vaguely in the direction of the foyer, "Red,
move your fine ass. Let's roll!"
"Screw you, Saint!" I shouted back. "No one orders me
around." Still, I was entertained enough that I hopped off
my seat and went in search of my gun and shoes. Fuck
riding bitch on the back of his bike again, though.
"I'm borrowing a car," I told Zed when I returned to the
kitchen to snag the rest of my bread.
He didn't argue, just pulled open a drawer and tossed
me a set of keys. "Take the Audi, but don't scratch it."
I snorted a laugh. "Coming from you, who scratched my
McLaren? Cute. Real cute. I'll be quick on this. Can you
arrange a meeting with Dallas? I'm ready to go hunting."
Zed jerked a nod, folding his arms over his apron. "You
got it, boss."
"Come on, Saint!" I yelled out to Cass. "I'm driving."

OceanofPDF.com
11

C lose proximity to Cassiel Saint after reading his


version of a love letter? Terrible, awful idea. We’d
barely made it out of Zed's garage before my skin was
prickling with the sexual tension in the car.
To my relief, though, he got a call from his newly minted
second, Roach, just a few moments after we turned out of
Zed's gates, and I was spared the awkward silence. Not
that I had any intention of pulling over to jump his bones on
the side of the road; I had shit to do and a not-so-dead ex to
hunt down. No matter how badly my cunt was begging for
a bit of Cass's dick, it could wait.
When we reached my apartment building, there was a
space directly across the road from the front door, so I
didn't bother parking in the underground garage.
"What day is it?" I muttered mostly to myself as I
climbed out of the car. Everything since the explosion at
7th Circle had turned into a whole big blur in my mind, and
I'd totally lost track of time.
Cass tilted his head to the side, giving me a curious look.
"Monday. You okay?"
"I'm fine," I replied with a small sigh. I was physically
fine, but my mental health was in shreds—no doubt exactly
what Chase wanted, that sick fuck. It wouldn't be the first
time he'd gotten off on my fear and mental deterioration.
I suppressed a shudder as dark memories tried to worm
their way out of the iron box I kept them locked in. Hell no.
Nope. Not on my watch, not ever.
And yet, instead of entering my building, I took a detour
to the newspaper stand a little farther down the street. It
hadn't even been a conscious thought; I just needed to
check the obituaries. Either there would be another creepy
fucking message or reading strangers’ death notices would
calm me down, help me feel grounded once more after such
a chaotic few days.
"Sudden desire for the daily news?" Cass asked as I
flipped through the stacks, hunting for the weekend paper.
It always had the best obits.
"Something like that," I muttered, still searching.
"Good morning, Daria!" Someone called out, and I
looked up from the stack of papers I'd been sorting
through.
I carefully shifted my expression from cold-hearted bitch
to pleasant Daria Wolff and tugged my jacket closed to
cover my rather obvious handgun.
"Good morning, Jeanette," I responded to one of my
downstairs neighbors. She was out walking her dog, a little
yappy thing that liked to pee when it was excited, and
paused when she got closer.
Her smile was genuine, but the way her eyes trailed
over Cass made me want to punch her in her cute nose. In
her midforties, Jeanette was still a total babe with a body to
die for. She'd regret it if she tried flaunting that body in
front of Saint, though.
"I heard about the break-in on Friday night," she told
me, wisely shifting her gaze back to my face. "Oh gosh,
were you home?" She reached out to touch the side of my
face where I still had a fading bruise, and I flinched away
before her finger reached me.
"No," I responded quickly, giving a tight smile to cover
my flinch. "No, this was just a clumsy boxing accident at
the gym last week."
She looked instantly relieved at my excuse. "Oh, phew.
I'm glad. Anyway, I hope you get everything sorted on
insurance." With another smile, she carried on her way
with her yappy dog trotting happily along beside her, totally
carefree. Lucky bastard.
When I turned my attention to Cass, he was watching
me with a mixture of curiosity and amusement that
instantly made me suspicious.
"What?" I snapped.
He shrugged. "You have neighbors."
I frowned. "So do you." He lived in a Reaper-owned
block on the west side of town, but it was still an apartment
building.
"My whole building is Reaper occupied," he informed me
with a small headshake. "Your neighbors are normal people
who think your name is actually Daria Wolff. It's..." He
trailed off, and my mood soured. If he was about to have
another mood swing like when he’d seen me transform
from Hayden to Hades... we were about to have issues.
"It's what?" I growled with a clear edge of warning.
"Fascinating," he replied in an equally dark growl. Then
he leaned forward, brushing past me to snag the paper I'd
been looking for. "Here. Saturday's, right?"
"Right," I murmured, taking it from his hand, then
paying the vendor before tucking it under my arm. Ignoring
Cass's questioning look, I started back toward my
apartment building, then paused when a car I didn't
recognize exited the parking garage. Given how many of
the building's parking spots I owned, there weren't many
other cars that parked down there. And that... that wasn't
one belonging to any of the residents.
That wasn’t totally unheard of, I supposed. Maybe
someone had gotten a new car or it was a visitor they'd
given access to. But in light of everything else going on, it
made me hesitate.
"What's wrong?" Cass asked, pausing with me.
I scowled at the car as it waited for traffic to break so it
could turn into the street. The windows were tinted dark
enough that I couldn't make out the driver—beyond what
I'd think was a legal tint—which made my paranoia prickle.
"Something..." I murmured, still frowning at the car
when it turned, entering traffic. "I don't know. Maybe
nothing. Just—"
I cut my sentence short at the muffled sound of an
explosion, accompanied by the ground trembling. Then
another. And another.
I counted them even as Cass threw his considerable
weight at me, wrapping me in a human shield and dragging
me behind a car. Seven. Seven explosions, then silence.
"What the—" Cass started to say through the ringing in
my ears. I shrugged free of his hold and pushed to my feet,
needing to see my building. That's where the bombs had
gone off, I was certain of it. That mysterious car... seven
explosions... I had left seven vehicles on my parking level,
six cars and my motorcycle. That motherfucker had blown
up my cars.
"Get in!" I shouted at Cass, already sprinting toward
Zed's car. Fuck the damages, I was catching that bombing
fucknut before he escaped this time.
Cass didn't question me, just dove into the passenger
seat as I pulled out of the parking space. Another explosion
saw me slam my foot on the brake, though. This one was
louder than the others. Bigger.
My heart shuddered and my breath caught as I swung
my gaze back to the building. Almost as if in slow motion,
the walls began to crack and fall, the entire structure
collapsing in on itself.
I didn't stick around to watch the rest. There was
nothing I could do to fix it now, but I could chase down the
most likely suspect. So, steeling my aching chest against
the loss of life that'd just happened, I pressed my foot down
on the accelerator and sped after the disappearing black
sedan in the distance.
For a second I lost sight of the car, and my stomach
sank. But then I spotted it between a break in the traffic
ahead and increased my speed to narrow the gap.
Cass didn't speak, just reached over and buckled my
seat belt for me, then did his own before he pulled out his
phone to text someone.
Moments later, I needed to swerve sharply to avoid
colliding with fire engines and ambulances screaming down
the street, no doubt headed for the remains of my
apartment building. They were too late to do anything,
though. Whoever had been home when the bombs had gone
off was dead.
"He's going to take the freeway," Cass told me as I wove
between cars. The darkly tinted car knew I was on his ass
now and had sped up accordingly. If that didn't confirm my
suspicion...
"I know," I replied, my eyes glued to my target. He was
sticking to the outside lane, furthest from the on-ramp, but
I'd put money on it that he'd make a last-minute switch.
Sure enough, a second later he darted across three lanes,
clipping the back of a minivan and mounting the curb to
make it onto the on-ramp.
"Idiot," Cass grunted as I followed with ease, having
already positioned myself in the correct lane in
anticipation.
"How good of a shot are you, Saint?" I asked with grim
determination as I matched pace with the black car.
Luckily, traffic was light on this road and no chance of
crashing into innocent bystanders.
Cass huffed a sound. "Don't insult me, Red."
I mentally rolled my eyes, a touch of amusement
breaking through my cold determination. "Well then, what
the fuck are you waiting for? Shoot out his tires."
"Yes, ma'am," he murmured, and I flicked him a quick
look. Was he...? No. Surely not. This was not the time for
flirting. Must have been my imagination.
Shaking it off, I switched lanes and accelerated harder
to bring us as close to our target vehicle as I could get
without endangering us when he spun out. Cass rolled his
window down and pulled his gun.
Before he could shoot, though, I spat a curse and
pressed my foot on the brakes, letting the black car pull
away.
"Red, what—" Cass started to protest, then saw what I
saw. "Oh, for fuck’s sake."
I seethed but maintained a safer speed as we passed
three school buses full of elementary-aged children. Must
have been a field trip, and I sure as fuck wasn't tempting
karma any more by deliberately shooting at a speeding
vehicle right behind them.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck it all to fucking hell," I whispered
as I glanced in my mirror to make sure all three buses were
safely behind me before hitting the gas again. "Where is
he?"
Cass took a second to reply, his dark eyes searching the
road ahead of us before shaking his head. "Take this exit,"
he told me.
"You sure?" I glanced at him, needing to make the
decision in less than a second.
"No." He looked back at me, his brow furrowed.
Fuck it. I jerked the steering wheel sharply, flying down
the off-ramp at about four times the legal speed. The sharp
turn at the base of the ramp saw our car skid out slightly,
but I was able to regain control easily while frantically
searching the road ahead for any sign of that blacked-out
car.
"There!" Cass barked, pointing to the grass shoulder. I
slowed down to see what he'd found, and sure enough,
right where the grass met the road, there were tire tracks.
A surge of satisfaction ran through me, and I gave a
grim smile. "Found you, sneaky fuck."
We followed the tracks into the forest by the side of the
road but didn't need to go far to find what we were looking
for. Only about fifty yards in, there was the black car with
its front end crumpled against a tree and the engine
smoking.
I barely even remembered to put the car in park before
leaping out. Cass beat me over to the smoking vehicle,
though, his gun out and ready as he approached the
driver's side. My own gun was already in my hand, and I
had no recollection of even pulling it. Muscle memory.
"Shit," Cass spat as he peered inside. A second later he
lowered his weapon and reached for the door handle. I
didn't question him as he yanked it open, because he
immediately stepped aside to let me see.
Our driver was still inside, but he was very much dead.
Blood and chunks of brain decorated the interior of the car,
and when I nudged his lolling head back, a bullet wound
decorated his forehead. The front windscreen of his car
was totally smashed in and the hood totally crumpled.
"You'd got to be fucking kidding me," I hissed. A cursory
glance around didn't reveal a gun that he might have used,
which either meant it'd fallen between the seats... or that
someone else had shot him and gotten away.
I let out a string of creative curses, then spotted a folded
piece of paper in the dead man's hand. "For the love of
fuck," I breathed, eyeing the paper with distaste. I had to
see what was on it, though. Had to.
Cringing, I put my gun away, then tugged the paper free
of the driver's dead fingers and unfolded it.
I scanned the message scrawled there, already half-
anticipating what it might say and unsurprised when I was
right.
"What is it?" Cass rumbled, his gun still drawn and his
shoulders bunched with tension.
I gave a small sigh, then read it aloud. "Sorry I
scratched your car, Darling. Still love me?" I folded the
paper again and tucked it into my back pocket. "Let's go.
This was a setup; he's just playing with me."
Cass blinked at me like he was trying to understand that
note. "Chase Lockhart?"
I jerked a nod, already stalking back over to Zed's car.
He followed, sliding back into the passenger seat and
buckling his seat belt as I backed out of the trees once
more and headed back toward town.
"Are you going to tell me the whole story, or are we still
playing this secret-keeping game?" Cass demanded after a
few minutes of tense silence.
My first instinct was to tell him to shut the fuck up and
kick his ass out of the car. But then a heartbeat later, I
desperately wanted to tell him everything. Would it really
be so bad to let him in? So far, only Zed knew what had
really happened the night I took over the Timberwolves.
Only Zed... and Chase.
Fucking hell. Chase had just destroyed my entire
apartment building with dozens of innocent lives inside.
He'd just killed... all those people and laid the weight of
guilt squarely across my shoulders.
I tried to speak to answer Cass, but all that came out
was a panicked sort of gasp. Shit. Shit. My grip on the
steering wheel tightened to try and hide the tremors in my
hands, but I wasn't fooling Cass for even a second.
"Pull over," he ordered, and I did. That, in itself, spoke to
my level of shock.
Cass climbed out of the car, circled around the hood,
then popped my door open. He even reached over and
unbuckled my seat belt, then jerked his head to the seat
he'd just vacated. "Shift over, I'm driving."
The desire to kick back rose up on instinct, but I had to
admit how stupid I would be to continue driving in my
state. My heart was racing so hard it physically hurt, and
my entire body felt like a live wire. So I bit back my
stubborn refusal and climbed over into the passenger seat.
Cass didn't comment on my easy acceptance, either,
which helped. He just got in and buckled my seat belt—
which apparently I'd forgotten to do again—and his own.
"Where are we going?" I asked in a hollow voice as he
turned us back onto the road.
He glanced over at me, those dark eyes of his all kinds
of intense and thoughtful. "My place," he rumbled and
didn't elaborate any more than that.

OceanofPDF.com
12

"W hat are we doing here?" I finally asked after Cass


closed and locked the door to his apartment behind us. His
place was exactly what I'd pictured it might be: a small,
one-bedroom, minimalist-style unit with exactly zero
personality anywhere in sight. Like he’d never really moved
in.
Cass didn't answer, just tossed his jacket over a chair,
then went to his fridge. He pulled out two bottles of beer
and tossed one to me.
"Sit down, Red," he told me, nodding to the couch,
which looked brand new. Did he never spend any time
here? Or just never have company?
With a sigh, I crossed over to the couch and twisted the
top off my beer to take a sip. It wasn't even noon, but who
gave a fuck? I needed something to settle my nerves and
regain my calm.
Cass dropped down on the sofa beside me and lounged
in that typical tall-guy sort of way, all sprawling legs and
arms. Hot as hell when Cass did it, not so much with it was
some random dude in a public space.
Ignoring him, I set my beer down on the table, then
shrugged out of my leather jacket. It was cute with my
outfit and functional, as it stored spare clips for my gun and
a couple of knives, but not amazingly comfortable.
The garment thudded heavily when I tossed it onto the
coffee table, and Cass quirked a brow at me in question.
"Like you don't carry spare weapons in yours," I
muttered, picking my beer up once more. I still had my
Desert Eagle strapped under my arm, but I wasn't exactly
here for a pool party. It could stay put.
Cass just scoffed and tipped his beer back. Damn, he
made that look sexy.
"Why are we here, Saint?" I asked again. "Because this
is probably not the best time to hang out and get stoned."
A micro-smile touched his lips. "That's cute."
Sometimes his lack of verbal skills really irritated me.
"What's cute?"
"That you want to hang out and get stoned with me." His
gaze dipped to my lips on the mouth of my beer bottle. "But
that’s not what I had in mind."
Sick of trying to pry answers out of him, I just sat back
and drained half my bottle with one gulp, then wiped my
mouth on the back of my wrist like a really classy bitch.
"What did the note mean?" Cass asked after a long
pause.
I huffed a humorless laugh. "It meant Chase is crazier
now than he ever was. That's my guess, anyway." The beer
soured in my stomach, and I regretted drinking it so fast.
Tension vibrated through me, and my fingertips danced an
anxious pattern on the side of my beer. This wasn't me. I
wasn't this jittery, scared woman. Every message from
Chase was making me forget more and more of who I was
now. I kept backsliding into the weak, easily manipulated
victim I'd been back then. Back when I’d been stupid
enough to think he loved me.
"He blew up all my cars," I said eventually. "Those seven
smaller explosions? My cars. And Fat Bob. The note was his
way of taking credit for it." I pulled it out of my back pocket
and smoothed it out again.
"I'd say that was a little more than scratching them,"
Cass muttered, then gulped his own beer.
I gave him a weak smile. "Zed taught me how to drive
when I was sixteen," I told him. "But he didn't trust me not
to crash his car, so we would take Chase's instead and
just... not tell him. Until one night I thought a cat was on
the road, and I swerved to miss it. Crashed right into a
tree." I swallowed heavily as the old, venomous emotions
clinging to my memories of Chase tried to surface. "I knew
he was going to be so mad, so I wrote him a note and left it
taped to the windshield after the car got towed back to his
place."
Cass nodded his understanding. "Gotcha. Word for word,
I assume?"
I wrinkled my nose. "Pretty much."
He was quiet for a long time. I had nothing else I wanted
to add to the story, so I just tossed the note on the table
beside my jacket and finished my beer.
Cass’s phone beeped and he checked it, then nodded to
me. "Zed's trying to get ahold of you."
Oops. My phone was on silent. I found it in the pocket of
my jacket and saw the screen flashing with Zed's name
already, so I slid my thumb across the "answer" button.
"I'm fine," I said before he could even get a word out.
"He waited until we were right outside to blow it."
There was a pause on the other end of the phone. "To
blow what, boss?"
I don't know why, but I looked over at Cass in confusion.
Not that he could hear Zed on my phone, but I was
confused. "The... wait, what were you blowing up my phone
for?"
"The hospital called me to come pick Lucas up; I thought
you'd want to know. Dare, what blew up?" Zed sounded like
he was just one step away from shouting at me, which was
new for him.
I rubbed a hand over my face, cursing myself for not
letting him speak first. "My building. Landon House. Chase
fucking blew up my cars, then took the entire building
down for good measure."
Another pause. Then a muffled string of obscene curses.
"Where are you now?" His voice was shaking with fury, and
I guessed part of that was over the loss of my McLaren. Or
maybe the fact that Mrs. Greenbriar had almost certainly
been inside at the time of the explosion. In fairness, I was
simply avoiding thinking about all those deaths. It was the
only reason I hadn't given in to my panic attack in the car
earlier.
I let out a sigh. "I'm with Cass. We followed the guy from
the scene and caught up with him just outside Shadow
Grove. Chase got there first, though."
"Shit," Zed said with a groan. "Where are you? I'm
getting in my car now."
I shot a glance at Cass again, but he was just watching
me with an unreadable expression. His long fingers toyed
with the label on his bottle, and I found the small
movement strangely mesmerizing.
"I'm fine here," I told Zed, evading his question for some
reason. "Go pick Lucas up, and I'll meet you at home." I
stiffened, my pulse racing. "I mean, at your house."
Another pause. "Sure thing, boss." He ended the call,
and I tossed my phone back onto the table.
"You okay?" Cass asked after a moment.
I blew out a breath, running my hand over my hair.
"Yeah. I should go. Thanks for..." I gave a shrug. Thanking
people was still an uncomfortable concept for me. I wasn't
used to giving a shit about social niceties.
Cass leaned forward and slammed his beer bottle on the
table. "Stop," he snapped. "Stop doing that."
His sudden anger gave me a small jolt of shock, but not
in a bad way. Just... it was surprising to see a raw emotion
out of his perpetually stone-like state… and fascinating in a
way that made me want to poke the bear with a stick.
But not now. Now, I had to deal with the destruction of
my building, set up death benefits for my neighbors who
were killed, and, somehow, hunt down Chase.
"Spare me the tantrum, Saint," I told him in a cool voice.
"I don't have the time or the patience for this." Grabbing
my jacket from the table, I stood up and started toward the
door.
"So, we're not going to talk about it?" he demanded
before I could even get my arms into the sleeves of my
jacket.
Spinning around to face him, I flipped my hair out of the
collar. "Talk about what?"
His eyes blazed. "The letter. You demanded I write you a
letter, so I did. But you still don't trust me enough to let me
help."
I gave a bitter laugh before I could catch myself. "I don't
trust anyone, Cass. Don't take it personally."
Silly me for thinking that would be the end of it. I turned
my back on him and reached for the door handle. But I’d
barely gotten the door open a couple of inches before his
huge palm slammed it shut again.
"You trust Zed," Cass rumbled, his lips so close to my
ear that his breath warmed my skin. How the shit had he
moved so freaking fast? Then again, he'd trained with
Phillip D'Ath, just the same as Zed and me. It really wasn't
that surprising.
I drew a slow breath, trying to calm my racing heart.
"Zed's my second. My best friend." I grimaced and
amended that statement. "My only true friend."
Cass left his hand planted against the door, fencing me
in on one side. His other hand brushed the hair away from
my neck, and I shivered involuntarily as his fingertips
brushed my skin.
"You trust Lucas." His voice had dipped to a husky
whisper, and my whole body was responding.
I gave a small headshake, my eyes still glued to his
tattooed hand pressed against the door. "Do I, though?
Lucas knows nothing about me. He has no idea why he was
taken and tortured. All I trusted him with was my orgasms.
And look where that landed him."
Cass shifted closer, his chest brushing my back and his
facial hair tickling my neck as he bent low over me. "That's
still trust, Red. What do I have to do to earn the same?"
I gave a sharp laugh, spinning around abruptly to face
him. "You wanna give me orgasms, Saint?" I tilted my head
back, mocking him as our eyes locked.
He didn't flinch. "I thought I was pretty clear about that
in my letter, Red."
My lower belly fluttered. He really fucking had been. But
that wasn't all he was asking for here. I knew it. He knew
it. But apparently we were both just pretending this was
only about sex.
I dragged my lower lip through my teeth, sorely
tempted. "I've got too much shit to deal with right now,
Cass. I don't have time for this."
He wasn't backing down. In fact, he just leaned in closer,
his mouth hovering over mine like he was waiting for me to
kiss him again. "I'm not asking for forever, Red."
Like a magnet, my body arched closer to him, and I
mentally chastised myself. I wasn't that girl. I wasn't ruled
by my dripping cunt like some airheaded twit.
Cass was done messing around, though. That subtle
signal from my body must’ve been all the answer he needed
because his mouth crashed into mine with an intensity that
knocked the breath clear out of me. My back hit the door,
and I turned to putty in his hands. Whether he intended to
or not, he'd just stumbled over my Achilles heel. I wanted
him to take charge.
With a small moan, I kissed him back, letting my tongue
meet his as my fingers dug into the hard flesh of his back.
His huge hand gripped my face, holding my firm when he
pulled back from our kiss, his eyes burning with heat as he
stared straight into my soul.
"I'm not asking you for forever, Red," he murmured in
that deep, husky voice that all but dripped sex. "But you'll
give it to me anyway."
I scoffed, genuinely amused by the size of his ego. "We'll
see."
A wicked smirk touched his lips. "Damn right, we will."
He used his grip on my face to bring my lips back to his,
this time kissing me slower and with undeniable purpose.
It scared me. It legitimately terrified me. Cassiel Saint
didn't just want a quick fuck; he wanted commitment.
There was no way I was ready to give him that. Not now,
probably not ever. But I also wasn't pushing him away and
walking out the door.
When his hand shifted from my face to my neck and
gave a light squeeze, I moaned in a way that would put a
porn star to shame. His response was just to crush me
tighter into the door until the hard length of his dick
trapped in denim was unmistakable against my hip.
His fingers slid under the collar of my jacket, and his
other hand at my waist tugged me slightly away from the
door so he could push my jacket off. I let it fall from my
arms, hitting the floor with a heavy thud. I quickly
unclipped my gun holster and tossed it onto the decorative
table near his door.
"You've got fifteen minutes," I told Cass in a breathless
whisper as he hitched his hands under my ass and lifted me
clean off the floor. "Make them count."
He just grunted an amused sound and responded by
striding through to his bedroom with my legs still wrapped
around his waist. "That's cute," he told me, kicking the door
shut and then dropping me onto his bed. He planted his
hands on either side of me on the bedding and brushed a
light kiss over the side of my neck, making my head tilt
back in invitation. "I'll take as long as I want."
His teeth scraped my pulse point, and my breath caught
in a sharp gasp. Dammit. Damn it all to hell. I wasn't even
wearing any panties to destroy, but that alpha-male-asshole
comment would have done it. As it was, my jeans and the
snaps of my bodysuit were taking a solid soaking, and I
gave zero shits. Cass seemed to know exactly what made
me tick.
My back arched as his hands skated down the thin fabric
of my body suit. I kicked my heels off as he flicked my jeans
open like they were made of Velcro. Then he peeled them
down my legs and tossed them across the room in one
smooth, very practiced motion.
Cass paused then, his heated stare on my body and his
chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.
"Problem?" I taunted, running my own hands over my
breasts to tease my hard nipples and let them show
through the thin fabric. "Clock's ticking, Saint."
He huffed a short laugh. "Fuck your clock, Timber.
You're a damn goddess, you know that?" His face dipped
low again, and he dropped a teasing kiss at my collarbone.
"The number of times I've pictured you like this..." His knee
wedged between my legs, pushing them wider.
"Cass," I groaned, rolling my hips forward so that he’d
be perfectly situated, if not for his jeans and my bodysuit.
"Quit talking about it and show me."
A low, sexy laugh rumbled from his chest as he pulled
away and sat back on his heels. "Such a smart mouth, Red.
Makes me want to fuck it." He tugged his shirt off in a one-
handed motion, and his ink-covered muscles rippled as his
hands dropped to his belt.
I watched him eagerly as he unbuckled it, sliding it from
the loops of his jeans slowly enough that it had to be for
dramatic effect. As badly as I wanted to give him another
quip about taking his damn time, I was mesmerized. I bet
he knew how to use that belt for more than just holding his
pants up.
He clicked his tongue at me when I licked my lips, a sly
smile on his own. "All the times I pictured fucking you, Red,
I never guessed what really turned you on."
I gave a small shrug, pushing myself up on my elbows to
get a better view of his tattoos disappearing under his
waistband. There was no need to offer up explanations; it
was pretty damn obvious I was panting all over him right
now. He'd thought I needed control in every area of my life
—bedroom included. He’d been wrong.
Here... this was one place I was happy to step back. Or
at least I was willing to give it a try. So far no one I'd slept
with had been ballsy enough to even try and take charge,
but I didn't think Cassiel Saint would have that issue.
"Take it off," he told me, nodding to my bodysuit. "As hot
as that is, I wanna see you naked, Red."
No arguments here. The snaps holding it together
opened with one swift tug, and a second later the garment
hit the carpet beside the bed. Cass inhaled sharply.
"Well?" I coaxed when he did nothing but stare at my
body sprawled across the bed in front of him. "You taking
those jeans off or what?" Because I really wanted to see
how far those tattoos extended.
Cass's eyes jerked back up to meet my hungry stare, and
the corners of his mouth curved up. "Turn over."
I did as he asked, feeling a small part of my constant
tension ease at the simple act of following a direction from
him.
"Shit," he breathed, smoothing a rough hand along my
bare back. I had a tattoo running down my spine, and he
loosely traced the lines of it before grabbing a handful of
my ass. "This ass..."
I arched my hips, wiggling my behind at him in
invitation. Smack it, fuck it, I didn't care. I just wanted him
to take whatever the fuck he wanted from my body. Use
me, abuse me, make me forget my own goddamn name.
His weight shifted on the mattress, and I turned my face
to watch him unzip his fly. Then my mouth went dry and I
needed to swallow several times as he palmed his dick and
met my eyes with a dark, hungry gaze.
"I bet that hurt," I murmured, breaking away from his
stare to eye his inked cock.
Cass responded by stroking himself, his thumb
highlighting the designs decorating the base of his shaft.
Then we both jerked when someone knocked loudly at
the front door.
Cass's expression hardened with anger, and I couldn't
help the laugh that bubbled out of me.
"What the fuck is so funny, Red?" He leaned over me and
bit my shoulder teasingly.
I smirked at him, then smacked a light kiss on his lips.
"Sounds like reality is knocking. Time's up, Saint."
With a smooth motion, I rolled off his bed and swiped my
clothes up in my hand. Whoever was at his door was
knocking again, and I wasn't in the mood to lie there with
my legs spread, desperate and waiting while he dealt with
whoever it was.
Nope, that was the universe's way of reminding me that
my life was already far too complicated without adding any
extra dick to it.
"Get your fine ass back here right now, Timber," Cass
ordered with a rumble of frustration underscoring his
words. "We are not leaving it at that."
I snorted a laugh, totally at odds with the internal
turmoil I was struggling to contain. "Yeah, we are." I turned
to face him, then gave his hard dick a pointed look and
licked my lips. "Guess you'll have to keep using your
imagination." Goddamn, I did not want to go.
Some dark emotion flashed across his face, and he
unfolded off the bed with the smooth grace of a shadow—or
a reaper. "Don't you dare walk away. We're not even close
to done." He seemed to pay no mind to whoever was at his
door; his focus was on one thing and one thing only. Me...
leaving.
Just because he’d told me not to, I opened his bedroom
door and took a very deliberate step through it while
flashing him a wide grin. "Moment's passed, Cass. You've
got a visitor." I was still naked—there was no way I was
actually running out of his apartment until I got dressed—
but I couldn't pass the opportunity to push him.
"Fuck that," he rumbled, prowling after me with long
strides. He caught me in just a couple of steps, grabbing
my clothes from my hand and throwing them out of reach.
I arched a brow. "Really? That's your plan to stop me
from leaving?"
He huffed another husky, pure-sex laugh. Then he
shoved me against the wall and kissed me until I was
breathless and shaking. But whoever was at the door was
determined and knocked again. When Cass wrenched his
lips from mine to glare at the door, I took the opportunity to
push him away.
I made it all of three steps before he caught me again,
this time with his fingers tangled in my hair. A surprised
yelp escaped my throat as he pulled me backwards against
his hard chest with a twist of his wrist, tightening my hair
around his fist and holding me prisoner.
"No, Red," he growled in my ear as he walked me
forward. "I don't have to stop you because you don't want
to leave. You just want me to take the decision out of your
hands." His free hand caressed my bare belly, then dipped
lower to stroke my throbbing pussy. His fingers spread me
open as he pushed me into the wall right beside the front
door. Right where this had all started. Except this time,
someone was on the other side, knocking persistently like
they urgently needed his attention.
I started to deny his accusation, but my words failed
when he pushed two thick fingers into me, rough and
demanding.
"Isn't that right, angel?" he murmured in my ear, then
bit my lobe in a way that made me shudder with pure
desire.
The knocking sounded again, louder this time. "Boss!" a
man shouted through the door. "It's Roach."
Cass paused a moment, and I tried to wriggle free of his
grip. That movement, though, only made him tighten his
hold on my hair, jerking my head back to an almost painful
angle. It gave him access to my lips, though, and he kissed
me so hard I knew my lips would be swollen and puffy for
hours.
I moaned as he roughly finger-fucked me, making me
writhe and buck against his tight hold.
"Quiet," he growled in my ear with an edge of anger
when he released my mouth. "I don't want my asshole
second knowing what you sound like when you come."
"Boss!" Roach shouted again, accompanied with more
knocking. "I know you're home and I'm guessing this is shit
timing, but something's happened. It's urgent."
This time, Cass withdrew slightly, clearly considering
what to do.
"Deal with it," I told him, my voice quiet but firm. "Our
world doesn't just stop because we want to fuck."
His muscles bunched against my back, his frustration a
palpable thing, but a second later he released me with a
growl of anger. Shaking out my hair, I turned around and
leaned my shoulders into the wall as I watched him.
With a deep scowl, he yanked his jeans up over his hard
dick, then gave me a narrow-eyed glare. "Don't even
fucking think about getting dressed, Red."
I didn't fight the smirk that crept across my lips. "We'll
see."
More knocking. Cass gave a growl of fury and jerked the
door open. He stepped out into the corridor and slammed
the door shut behind him, ensuring there was no way
Roach could have seen me.
As tempting as it was to follow directions and just
sprawl naked across his bed, waiting for him to come and
finish me off, my messed up brain wouldn’t let me make it
so easy on him. I liked pushing him away, and making him
pull me back in so fucking hard. I liked challenging his
dominance. It turned me on. So I grabbed my jacket from
where I'd dropped it earlier and went in search of the rest
of my things. It took me all of two minutes to get dressed,
all the while listening to the low rumble of voices outside
the front door.
I was clipping my gun holster back on when Cass yanked
the door back open and stormed inside like a thundercloud.
When he saw me standing there, fully dressed, he froze.
"What the fuck are you doing?" he demanded.
"Leaving," I replied with an eyeroll, biting back my
smile. "Hot as all that alpha-dom crap is, we both have
empires to run and people to protect. Sounds like yours just
came knocking, literally, and mine got bombed this
morning."
Something shifted in his expression, and a delicious
thread of anticipation rippled through me.
"You think I'm playing?" he asked in a dark voice,
stalking closer to me. For some goddamn reason—call it a
moment of temporary insanity—I backed up a couple of
steps into the kitchen before I caught myself and stood firm
with my chin up.
My expression hardened into Hades again, and I met his
blazing stare with ice. "You think you're not?"
He huffed a laugh, and it struck me somewhere deep.
God, that was a sexy sound, and the fact that he didn’t back
down at that hardness spoke volumes. Instead of
answering, he reached out and stroked the backs of his
fingers over my exposed décolletage. I shivered and leaned
into his touch, feeling the power behind such a gentle
gesture.
In a flash his hand was around my throat.
A shock of excitement, of exhilaration, ran through me
like a lightning strike, and my heart galloped against my
ribs as his fingers tightened and his lips brushed over mine.
"I told you not to get dressed, angel," he murmured, his
grip just a fraction away from cutting off my air, but loose
enough that I could still reply.
"What are you gonna do about it, then?"
Silly question. Cass kept his grip on my throat but
circled around behind me until my back was pressed to his
chest once more. Slowly, letting me anticipate his actions,
he reached out and plucked a fileting knife from the block
on the counter. Then, in a series of quick, precise cuts, he
shredded my bodysuit but left my gun holster intact.
"I swear," he murmured in my ear, "I've never seen a
woman make weapons look so fucking hot." Satisfied with
the way he'd destroyed my bodysuit, he stabbed his knife
point first into the wooden cutting board in front of me.
Releasing my throat, he flicked the button of my jeans
open, then gripped the sides of my open fly in each hand
and ripped. The already distressed denim tore like wet
paper down the entire length off my crotch, and Cass
shoved them down my legs with rough movements before I
could get anything more than a startled sound of protest
out.
"Cass—" I started to say, somewhat irritated but still
exceedingly turned on at how he'd just destroyed my
clothes. But he cut me off with a hand over my mouth. With
strong movements, he kicked my legs wider and bent me
over the counter until my aching nipples touched the
wooden cutting board right beside his knife.
One hand still over my mouth, his other grabbed my hip.
He pulled me back against him as his cock found my cunt,
shoving inside and making me scream against his palm.
For a moment, it felt like my brain had short-circuited.
Stars exploded in my vision, and my whole body quaked,
shaking with raw arousal and pent-up tension. Then I bit
down on his fingers, and he grunted a curse.
"Bitch," he growled as he removed his hand from my
mouth. Somehow, he made it sound like the highest
compliment, though, and I bucked my hips. "Fuck, you feel
incredible, Red."
My sassy retort dissolved on a wave of euphoria as he
started fucking me properly. His fingers bit into the fading
bruises on my hip as he nailed me against the counter, and
I moaned under his touch.
"Holy shit," I groaned as he slammed into me, harder
and harder. "Cass..."
"Roach will be back any minute," he grunted, wrapping
his free hand back around my neck once more. I shuddered
with waves of pleasure as the edge of the counter bit into
my waist and Cass pumped faster. "So be fucking quiet
when you come."
I snorted a laugh, then moaned when his grip tightened.
He wasn't fucking around, and I was in freaking heaven.
Planting my hands on the counter, I pushed back into him,
frantically chasing the climax that was teasing me.
"Harder," I moaned, louder than I really needed to.
He cursed and gave me exactly what I wanted. He went
harder on my cunt and on my throat, squeezing in just the
right place to make my vision dance and my lungs scream
as I came with soul-shattering convulsions.
He barely even waited for me to finish before jerking out
of my pussy and shoving me to my knees. His fingers
tangled in my hair, he shoved his cock so far down my
throat that I couldn't breathe.
"I told you to be quiet," he grunted as he fucked my
mouth.
If I'd been able to, I'd have smirked. As it was, I just
grabbed onto his tattoo covered hips and sucked his dick
like I was trying to win a prize. A few moments later, he
jerked and used his grip on my hair to force himself deeper
as he came.
When he released me, I sat back on my heels with my
chest heaving and my lips throbbing.
Cass stared down at me a moment, his eyes slightly
stunned, then that sly, sexy grin crossed his lips.
"Get up," he ordered. "Go to my bedroom while I get rid
of Roach. I want to taste your sweet cunt and feel you come
on my face before I let you leave."
My breathing hitched, and my pussy tightened with
excitement.
Slowly, I climbed to my feet and kicked my shoes aside.
Holding Cass's dark gaze steadily, I licked my lips, then
uttered the words that irrevocably shifted our power
dynamic.
"Yes, sir."

OceanofPDF.com
13

S triding back into Zed's house, I kept my head high


and my spine strong despite the puffiness in my lips
betraying exactly what I'd been doing. Not to
mention the way my hair barely covered the marks on my
neck.
"Nice outfit," Zed commented, spotting me before I
could sneak upstairs to change.
My shoulders tightened, and I hardened myself against
his teasing before changing direction. "Thanks," I snapped
back. "Designed it myself."
My outfit, as my second so amusingly commented on,
was one of Cass's black hoodies. That was it. Just a hoodie.
But I was short enough compared to Cass's six-foot-five
that it fit me like a dress. And really, I’d had no other
options considering the shredded mess he'd left my clothes
in.
"You smell like sex," Zed informed me as I brushed past
him. There was no teasing in his tone, though. In fact, he
sounded pissed off.
I stopped and shot him a scowl. "What's your problem,
Zayden?"
His answering smile was pure sarcasm. "Nothing, boss.
Just commenting on the fact that you've clearly been riding
that Reaper's dick while I was out collecting your boy toy
from the hospital. Oh yeah, and thirty-six people died in the
collapse of your apartment building."
A wave of guilt ripped through me so hard I wobbled on
my heels. "Zed—"
"Whoa, no!" Lucas cut me off, pushing up from the couch
with a grimace. I hadn't even seen him sitting there, but
he’d clearly heard what Zed just said to me. "Not cool, Zed.
Hayden didn't set that bomb off; don't go dumping those
deaths on her shoulders."
Zed looked stricken, frowning between Lucas and me,
then gave an angry shake of his head. "Fuck this," he
muttered, then started to storm away.
"Excuse me?" I barked after him, the sharp edge in my
voice making him freeze in his tracks. "You want to try that
again?"
Ever so slowly, Zed rolled his shoulders, then turned
back around to face me with a carefully shuttered
expression. "My apologies, sir," he said, the words still
underscored with anger. "I have some calls to make." He
held my gaze steady, and I swallowed a frustrated sigh.
"That's better," I snapped, dismissing him.
Zed's answering glare was darker than I'd seen from
him in a long time, but he said nothing else before leaving
the room and heading upstairs.
As soon as he was gone, I let out a long sigh and let my
shoulders sag. Something really strange was going on with
Zed, and I needed to get to the bottom of it sooner rather
than later.
"What was that about?" Lucas asked quietly, touching a
gentle hand to the small of my back.
I shook my head, not even knowing where to start
explaining the complicated relationship between Zed and
me. "Doesn't matter," I lied. "How are you?"
Shoving Zed's temper tantrum into the back of my mind,
I focused on Lucas and inspected the colorful bruises
decorating his face.
"I'm fine," he told me with a smile. "Better now that
you're here." He looped his arms around my waist and
pulled me close in a hug. After a moment's hesitation, I
reached my arms up around his neck and relaxed into his
hold.
Lucas buried his face in my hair and tightened his arms
around me, then gave a soft laugh. "You really do smell like
sex." I tried to pull away, instantly worried that he was hurt
or upset, but he didn't let me go. "I didn't say I hated it."
A fact he reinforced by nuzzling my hair out of the way
and kissing my neck right over the teeth marks and light
bruises Cass had left.
"Lucas," I groaned, sliding my hand around to cup his
face. I pulled back far enough that I could meet his eyes
and see the open honesty in his gaze. "You're unbelievable."
He grinned that cheeky, mischievous smile of his. "In a
good way, right?"
I rolled my eyes but couldn't fight my answering smile.
"For one thing, I'm almost positive you're not allowed to
have sex so soon after surgery to reinflate your lung—"
"I don't remember the doctor saying that." He gave me a
thoughtful frown, like he was searching his memory. "Hmm,
nope, no recollection."
Still grinning and unable to wipe it off my face, I just
gave him a headshake. "And for another, I smell like sex
because I've been fucking someone else. That doesn't
bother you? Because it should. You deserve better than me,
Lucas. I'm only going to—"
"Break my heart?" He finished the sentence for me, and
I gave a weak shrug. He drew a deep breath, then released
it as his arms loosened around my waist. Instead of pushing
me away, he took my hand and led me over to the couch to
sit. "Yeah, you probably will."
My brows shot up, and my stomach knotted. "And you're
okay with that?" I had a hard time believing him, and it
showed in my voice.
Lucas just met my eyes with a calm that seemed far too
mature for his years. "I'm okay with that. It doesn't bother
me that you smell of sex with Cass because you smell like
sex and that's just a straight up turn on."
All my skepticism must have shown on my face because
he just laughed and grabbed my hand. With a quick
movement, he shoved my hand inside his gray sweatpants
and wrapped my fingers around his hot, hard length.
"Tell me I'm lying, Hayden," he challenged me in a husky
voice. "Tell me I'm not thinking about how badly I want to
fuck you right here on Zed's ugly-ass couch. I dare you."
I huffed a short laugh at his play on my name. "Cute."
"Not the vibe I was aiming for," he muttered, releasing
my hand. I didn't immediately withdraw it, though, and his
breathing spiked. "So no, it doesn't bother me. But if you
want to know whether it makes me jealous?"
I tilted my head to the side, curious.
Lucas swiped his tongue over his lush lips, his cheeks
flushed as he tried to continue his conversation while I
stroked his dick. "Insanely jealous," he admitted in a hoarse
whisper. "I want to know everything he did to you, then I
want to do it all myself and make you scream harder.
Louder. I want to make you forget his fucking name while
my dick is inside you."
Somewhat shocked by his answer, I removed my hand
from his sweatpants and searched for an appropriate
response. No words came to mind, though, so when he
leaned over and kissed me, I simply melted into his touch.
A crash of something breaking upstairs jolted me out of
the fuzzy haze of Lucas that I'd just so comfortably slipped
into, and I looked to the ceiling with a grimace.
"I need to go and deal with him," I said with a sigh. "I
don't know what his fucking problem is, but I'm not putting
up with it."
Lucas gave a soft laugh. "You really don't know what his
problem is?"
I frowned at him in confusion as I peeled myself out of
his warm embrace to stand up. "Uh, no. He's been acting
strange for fucking weeks and keeps fobbing me off with
stupid excuses whenever I push the issue."
Lucas sprawled out a bit on the sofa, cupping his dick to
rearrange it. "Since when? The night you and I hooked up?"
I took a moment to consider his question, then shook my
head. "No, his attitude has nothing to do with you. Him
trying to sabotage our night wasn't some kind of misplaced
jealousy. He's always meddled when he's seen me with
guys, but I do it to him with chicks. It's just a thing we do."
I grinned, remembering an incident a few months ago. I'd
caught Zed fucking a girl against a wall at Club 22, so I'd
convinced a waitress to "trip" and "spill" a whole pitcher of
sangria all over his white shirt.
Zed had been livid but never even known it was me. By
some stroke of luck, the waitress I'd picked was one of
Zed's former conquests, and he’d assumed it was an act of
jealousy. Hah.
Lucas was just watching me with a bemused smile as I
took that quick trip down memory lane, then he gave an
unconvinced shake of his head. "If you say so." Another
crash of something breaking upstairs made us both look to
the ceiling. "Maybe you should just let him work through it
alone."
His concern made me grin, and I leaned back down to
kiss his lips. "That's cute that you think Zed would ever
hurt me. Don't worry, I'll be quick. He probably just found
out he caught an STD from his latest bed buddy or
something." I kissed him again, letting my lips linger as my
pussy throbbed with need. "Just make yourself at home,
okay? And ignore any gunshots from upstairs."
Lucas made a panicked sound of protest as I left the
room, and I just laughed in response. I wasn't actually
going to shoot Zed for throwing a temper tantrum, but I
wasn't adverse to scaring him a bit.
It was pretty obvious all the crashing was coming from
Zed's room, so I marched down the corridor and threw the
door open without bothering to knock. Inside, I found Zed
standing on the small balcony with his back to me and his
shoulders heaving. I approached without any hesitation but
took note of how white his knuckles were on the balcony
railing and how the thick muscles in his forearms were
flexed hard.
"You wanna tell me what the fuck is going on with you,
Zayden?" I asked in a dry voice, propping my shoulder
against the doorframe and folding my arms.
He spun around, his lips parted as though he had a
million and one sharp retorts just waiting on the tip of his
tongue. But then his blazing, furious glare met my calm
gaze, and his mouth snapped shut.
"None of your business, Hades," he growled instead, his
brows dipping in anger.
He was trying to push my buttons, but lucky for him I
was still riding the euphoric wave of Cass's parting kiss so
my usual quick temper had been cooled.
Spoiler alert, his kiss hadn't been on my mouth.
Instead of snapping back and exerting my authority like
Zed clearly expected me to do, I just raised my brows and
tipped my head to the side. "Why don't you talk to me
anymore, Zed? I thought we told each other everything."
His eye twitched with rage. "Like you're one to talk."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Okay, now he was
starting to piss me off.
He advanced a couple of steps, getting all up in my
personal space and forcing me to tip my head back so I
could maintain eye contact. I despised when men did that
to me. Usually. Somehow, I was okay with it when it came
to... certain men. Zed was one of them.
"This shit with Cass and Lucas," he growled in a low
voice, still underscored with raw emotion.
"What shit with Cass and Lucas?" I replied when he
didn't elaborate. "I'm fucking both of them. So what?"
His eyes narrowed. "So what? Seriously? You've got
genuine feelings for both of them? How do you not see how
dangerous that’s becoming for you? For us?"
My jaw dropped slightly. "What? Zed, chill. It's just sex.
Don't read so much into it, drama queen. Is that what all
this is about? Fucking hell, I thought there was a real
problem."
A little of Zed's anger seemed to slip, and he studied my
face with an expression of disbelief. Then he barked a
sharp laugh and shook his head. "Just sex, huh?" He
continued searching my eyes for long enough that I shifted
uncomfortably. "You're so full of shit, Hayden. I know what
you look like when you've let someone into that glacial-cold
heart of yours."
Fear spiked through me, and I lifted my chin in stubborn
denial. "Oh yeah?" I scoffed a sharp laugh. "How?"
Zed's eyes flashed with pain, and his mocking smile
faded completely. "Because you used to look at me like
that." His voice was quiet and full of bitterness and regret.
But regret about what?
As quick as his mood had shifted, he snapped his gaze
away from mine and brushed past me. "I'm heading out,"
he announced, already grabbing a clean shirt from his
closet and swapping it for the wrinkled one he'd been
wearing.
"Zed, what the fuck? Don't you dare walk away from me;
we're in the middle of a conversation." I started after him,
reaching for his arm, but he shrugged out of my grip.
"I've got shit to take care of," he snapped, not meeting
my gaze anymore. "Do me a favor, though?"
My heart thumped hard against my chest, and a dark
emotion I couldn't name welled up within me. "Anything," I
murmured, meaning it with total sincerity.
Zed grabbed his gun from the dresser and strapped the
holster at his waist, then shoved a spare clip in his pocket.
"Don't fucking trust them. The timing is too damn
coincidental... especially for Gumdrop."
My brows rose. "You think he's a plant? Demi ran his
check, and—"
"Demi's good, but she's not the best," he cut me off, his
tone harsh as he finally spun around to face me. "There's
something more going on with that kid. Maybe with Cass
too. They're using you, Hayden, and you're falling for it
because you're so desperate for some good dick."
And that was as far as my patience extended. My fist
snapped out, catching Zed in the face with a sharp jab. He
barely even flinched, though. He just clenched his jaw and
drew a deep breath before opening his eyes once more.
"Speak to me like that again, Zayden," I hissed at him. "I
fucking dare you. Maybe all the excellent orgasms I've
been getting have taken the edge off my violence, but I am
more than fucking happy to remind you why I am who I am.
Do not test me."
His blue eyes blazed in anger, but he didn't reply, just
gave a sharp nod and stormed out of the room. A few
moments later, the front door slammed and his tires
squealed as he peeled out of the drive.
When I was confident he was gone, I let the strength
seep out of my bones and crumpled to the floor in a shaking
heap. What the hell had that all been about? Zed and I
didn't argue like that. We just didn't. So what the fuck had
just tipped his anger? I didn't believe for a second it was
just knowing Cass and I had fucked. That would mean his
feelings for me had shifted dramatically in recent weeks,
and that... that just wasn't fathomable. Not him. Not my
best friend.
I refused to even consider the possibility, because I
refused to lose the most important person in my life. So
there must be something else going on.
Maybe he was on to something...

OceanofPDF.com
14

L ucas was still in the living room when I eventually


made my way back downstairs, and he looked up in
question when I joined him.
"I didn't hear any gunshots," he offered with a lopsided
smile. He looked tired and in pain.
I gave a weak smile in reply. "Not yet, anyway. Has Zed
sorted you out with a bedroom yet?" Better to change the
subject than try to explain Zed's confusing anger toward
me today.
Lucas shook his head. "Not yet. We didn't get back very
long before you; the hospital paperwork took forever to fill
out."
"Alright, let's go sort one out. You need to rest, and I
need to deal with..." I trailed off with a heavy sigh. I needed
to deal with the unexpected demolition of my apartment
building. It was just one more lead weight of guilt added to
the already staggering weight I carried on a daily basis.
Lucas stood up and brushed a stray lock of hair behind
my ear. "You kinda look like you need to rest, too."
Zed was on crack, Lucas wasn't some kind of undercover
spy sent to seduce and kill me. He was just a genuinely nice
guy who was incredible in bed. Nothing more, nothing less.
"I'll rest when I'm dead," I whispered back, only half
joking. "Come on, we need to find linens for the spare
room." Linking my fingers into his, I led the way upstairs
and showed him to the guest room down the hall from
Zed's room.
He tried to help with the sheets, and I had to scold him
into submission. Weirdly, I got a spike of arousal when he
obeyed my command and sat his ass down in the armchair.
Maybe I was just still hypersexed from my tryst with Cass
earlier.
After making the bed up and fetching him a stack of
fresh towels for the shower, I ordered him into bed and ran
downstairs to fetch his medication, which I'd seen sitting
on the counter. Then I made a stop in Zed's room to quickly
shower, change clothes and remove my gun holster.
When I returned to Lucas's room in a pair of comfy sleep
shorts and my favorite Blink 182 T-shirt, he was fast asleep.
His long lashes fanned over his high cheekbones, and his
face seemed so damn serene as he slept. Zed had hit the
mark too damn well in his rant. Lucas was more than just
sex to me already. If he turned out to be a traitor, it'd hurt
more than I even wanted to consider.
Biting my lip and swallowing the emotions that
threatened to overwhelm me, I tiptoed across the carpet
and drew the curtains against the setting sun. I made it
halfway back to the door, intending to leave him in peace,
but the sound of him shifting in bed made me pause.
"Hayden..." he mumbled, and I cringed. I hadn't wanted
to wake him up.
"Sorry, Lucas," I whispered, changing direction to cross
back over to him. Then I realized his eyes were still closed
and he was just mumbling in his sleep. He was dreaming
about me. And if the smile on his lips was any indication, it
was a good dream.
I couldn't help myself. I leaned over and pressed a light
kiss to his lips. But that must have just played into his
dream because a moment later his hands threaded into my
hair, and he dragged me into the bed with him.
Then he froze, his eyelids lifting and a grimace of pain
on his face.
"Idiot," I whispered with a soft laugh, trying to extract
myself from his grip. "You must have forgotten your injuries
in that dream, huh?"
His response was just a low groan, but his fingers
tightened on mine before I could fully climb off the bed.
"Lie with me for a bit?"
Ugh, how could I refuse that angelic face? I lifted the
blankets and climbed into the warm bed beside him,
slotting perfectly into the side of his body like we'd been
created as a matching pair. Neither one of us spoke; Lucas
just curled his arm around me and drifted back to sleep
within seconds.
I envied the way his whole body relaxed in sleep.
My entire being was exhausted, yet after lying there
listening to the peaceful, calm sound of Lucas's heartbeat
for hours, I had to admit that sleep wasn't coming for me.
Not yet. Not when I had so many dark and depressing
thoughts swirling around in my brain.
Ever so carefully, I slid out from under his arm and
padded from the room.
My phone was downstairs on the kitchen counter where
I'd tossed it earlier, and I groaned when I saw how many
notifications and missed calls were waiting for me. But one
of the numbers made my brows shoot up in surprise, and I
hit redial.
"Ms. Timber," the woman answered after the second
ring. "I'm glad you called back."
I clicked my tongue, the gears in my mind whirling.
"Special Agent Hanson. I'll admit I'm surprised to hear
from you."
"And why is that?" the FBI agent asked, sounding
irritated. "You didn't think I'd want to speak with you after
your entire apartment building was blown up this morning?
Hell, half the law enforcement in the state is currently
hoping to have a word with you, Ms. Timber."
Anger simmered in my belly, and I sat up straighter. "It's
Ms. Wolff to you, special agent," I corrected her, "and I
assumed you were dead. After all, you set me up last week.
I can't imagine why he left you alive." I was genuinely
confused. I'd told the special agent where I would be and
when, then my club had been blown up with me very nearly
still inside. There was no way that was a coincidence.
"Ms. Wolff," Agent Hanson responded in a tart voice, "if
you're implying I had something to do with that accident at
your club last week—"
"I'm not implying shit, Agent Hanson. I just can't work
out why you're still alive." Staring at the marble
countertop, I tapped my fingernail against my lip while I
thought it through. "Or maybe he wanted to see if I would
kill you myself and do his dirty work for him."
"Excuse me?" Agent Hanson squawked in my ear. "Did
you just threaten my life?"
I snorted a laugh. "Hardly." I pushed the conundrum
aside to dissect another day. "So, what can I do for you
today, Hanson?"
The FBI agent made a sound like she could hardly
believe what she was hearing. "I need to speak with you in
person, Ms. Wolff. You were seen at the scene right before
the bombs went off in your building; if you're not
responsible, then you know who is." Her voice was thick
with frustration and irritation. It made me laugh.
"Careful, Hanson. You're showing all your cards at
once." I was mocking her, and she knew it. "But no, I won't
be arranging any more in-person chats with you. Call me
crazy, but I’d prefer not to get blown up this week."
She sucked in a sharp breath. "I had nothing to do with
your club exploding, Ms. Wolff. The mere fact that you're
suggesting I did is—"
"I don't have time for this, Hanson," I cut her off. "But it
was nice chatting. Watch your back; you're on my shit list
now."
I ended the call before she could splutter any more
bluster, then drummed my fingernails on the countertop in
thought. She genuinely seemed offended by my accusation,
but her actions and lack of follow-up after last week's bomb
didn't sit true to a legitimate FBI Agent.
Not coming up with any immediate answers, I checked
all my other messages. They were mostly just work-related
updates: check-ins from all my venue managers with their
balance sheets and nightly reports attached, updates from
the various Timberwolf leaders in different parts of my
territory, and even a message from the Death Squad.
Vega: Feels like something is brewing. It's too
damn quiet.
I rolled my eyes and tapped out a quick reply.
Hades: No shit. Keep your damn eyes open and
your ear to the ground. I won't tolerate another
fuckup from you, Vega.
His reply came quick.
Vega: Understood.
There was also a message from the Timberwolf I'd
appointed to oversee Vega's business as punishment for
breaking my rules. Nothing exciting from him, so I didn't
reply.
After I cleared all my work messages, I scowled down at
the empty inbox. Nothing from Cass, despite his promise to
talk later when I left his apartment earlier.
Also, nothing from Zed. It wasn't like him, and it set my
nerves on edge all over again.
I sat there for several minutes, debating whether I
should message either of them, then ultimately decided not
to. Regardless of how I'd let Cass take control in the
bedroom, I was still the boss outside of that unique
situation. He could come to me, not the other way around.
Instead, I tapped out a message to Archer D'Ath,
checking on my sister. He replied promptly, confirming she
was still safe, and I left it at that. She could contact me
when she was ready, and I wouldn't push her. Besides, her
words from yesterday still stung and sat like a lead weight
in my heart.
Frustrated and edgy, I went to Zed's freezer and pulled
out a bottle of vodka. I wasn't that fussy on my spirits, but
vodka needed to be cold for shots. I didn't bother to
measure it out, just free-poured a double shot into a crystal
tumbler, then knocking it back in a huge gulp.
The liquor burned a fiery path down to my empty
stomach, and my guts cramped in protest. I needed to put
some food in me before alcohol, but I sure as hell wasn't in
the mood to cook. Vodka would do, at least until the
morning.
I poured another and drank it quickly, then headed
upstairs once more. Just because I hadn't been able to
sleep next to Lucas didn't mean I couldn't just lie there and
soak up his calm.
"You're back," he murmured when I slipped beneath the
covers. His eyes were still closed, but he shifted over to
give me more space and, when I’d settled, wrapped his
arms around me in a warm hug.
"I didn't mean to wake you," I whispered back, shivering
as his warmth enveloped me. On habit or instinct, I pressed
a kiss to his neck.
He gave a contented sigh and dipped his head to find my
lips with his own. "You can wake me up any time you want,
Hayden." He mumbled the words between kisses that were
quickly getting me heated up all over again.
"Lucas," I groaned, pulling away with mammoth effort.
"I didn't come up here to take advantage of you. Just go
back to sleep." In an attempt to solidify my point, I rolled
over to face away from him, while still snuggled under his
arm.
Lucas shifted onto his side, too, spooning me with his
strong forearm banded over my chest. He held me tight
against his chest, and his lips caressed my neck like he was
worshiping me.
"You're not taking advantage, Hayden," he murmured in
my ear, then dragged my lobe between his teeth teasingly.
"I just can't get enough of you." A statement supported by
the hard length of his erection crushed against my
backside.
I gave a small laugh, playfully biting the forearm across
my chest. "Lucas, you just got out of hospital. You're
injured."
He hummed a sound, his lips trailing down my neck and
his free hand sliding my shorts down over my hip. I still had
no panties—thanks to Cass's shitty packing skills—and he
inhaled sharply when his fingers brushed over my bare
pussy.
"I am injured," he agreed with a heavy breath as he slid
a finger down my seam, searching for my clit. He found it
too. No treasure map needed. I gave a small groan, my hips
rocking into his touch without my permission. "But you
know what would make me feel a million times better?"
His finger slid lower, pushing into me. "I bet I could
guess," I replied with a lusty laugh. "Lucas..." This time his
name was said with a plea, and I didn't know if I was asking
him to stop or keep going. Probably the latter.
"I'll be so careful," he promised in a dark whisper,
pumping two fingers into me and making me quake. "You're
already so hot, so fucking wet..."
Shit. He had me and he knew it. I reached behind me
and tugged his sweats down, giving in to what he and I
both so clearly needed.
His breathing rough, he lifted my top leg slightly and
pushed into my cunt from behind with small, rocking
thrusts that made my whole body flood with heat. Only
when his hips were flush with my ass did he release my leg.
"See?" he whispered, his voice rough with arousal. "So
careful. I won't pull any stitches if we take it slow."
Demonstrating his point, he started fucking me with the
slowest, most deliberate strokes that were already driving
me nuts.
"This is definitely against doctor’s orders," I protested,
then groaned when his fingers found my clit once more.
Lucas just gave a low, sexy chuckle as he fucked me
carefully and drove me straight up Mount Orgasm. "Rules
are made to be broken, Hayden."
Fuck, that was hot as hell coming from his lips.
Moaning, I relaxed into his hold and let him have his
fun. Over and over, he brought me to the edge of orgasm,
then backed off as his thick cock pumped in and out of me
with that maddening pace. Only when I was ready to
spontaneously combust did he finally start fucking me
harder. With his huge shaft slamming into my cunt, all it
took was the lightest of touches to my swollen clit and I
detonated.
Lucas whispered curses as I came hard, my pussy
clenched around him like a vice, then he was coming too.
His hips bucked and rolled as he forced himself deeper
inside me, spilling hot cum as I continued to climax.
The whole encounter was intense and sweaty and
insanely relaxed, and even after our breathing slowed and
our fevered skin cooled, neither one of us moved. I fell
asleep with Lucas's dick still buried inside me, so it was no
great shock when I woke up sometime later to him
hardening once more. Who needed sleep when you could
lazy-fuck all night long?
Zed had no idea how right he’d been when he said Lucas
had stamina. Fuck his paranoia, Lucas was exactly what I
needed in my life. And if he turned out to be a double
agent, then at least I’d gotten some epic sex out of it.
Right?
Yeah. I didn't believe me either. I'd be fucking crushed.
OceanofPDF.com
15

D espite my conversation with Special Agent


Hansen, I wasn't a total asshole. I wasn't just
ignoring the destruction of my building and
pretending it hadn't happened. When I woke at dawn and
carefully extracted myself from Lucas's sleeping embrace, I
headed back through to Zed's room to grab clean clothes.
His bed was still perfectly made, the broken pieces of
the lamp he'd smashed still littering the floor. Either he
hadn't come home last night or he'd simply not slept. With
an irritated frown, I rifled through my bag. There weren't
many options left, so I made myself a mental note to pick
up new shit when I was in town.
I helped myself to Zed's shower, washing my hair and
scrubbing myself down thoroughly before getting dressed.
Zed didn't have a hairdryer, which wasn't ideal, but I
dragged his comb through my wet locks and gave them a
rough towel dry instead.
On quiet feet, I made my way downstairs and inhaled
deeply at the smell of bacon cooking. Apparently Zed was
home after all.
"That smells incredible," I groaned, joining him in the
kitchen as he pulled the crispy bacon from a pan and laid it
out on a slice of waiting toast.
He was shirtless and sweaty, his knuckles red and puffy
like he'd been boxing without gloves on. Without answering
me, he just assembled the bacon and egg sandwich, added
a slice of cheese and a drizzle of barbeque sauce, then
added another slice of toast as a lid. He looked up at me
then, meeting my eyes with a cool gaze as he lifted the
sandwich to his mouth and took a huge bite.
The message was crystal clear, and I glowered.
"Real mature, Zed," I sulked, looking longingly at the
empty frying pan on the stovetop. He'd very deliberately
only cooked for one. Prick.
I didn't need breakfast anyway, just coffee. So I
shoulder-checked him out of the way to access the coffee
pot, which was already full of dark gold. He didn't step
away, though, just made me lean past him to grab a mug
and fill it up.
"You used my shampoo," he muttered, sounding
annoyed.
I finished making my coffee, then turned back to face
him with a no shit look on my face. "Mine is somewhere
underneath a thousand tons of rubble right now. Is that a
problem for you?"
His answer was just to hold my gaze and take another
huge bite of his breakfast sandwich. He even gave an
exaggerated moan, like it was the best thing he'd eaten in a
long time.
Because I was feeling childish, I grabbed his wrist in an
iron grip, holding the sandwich still as I took a shark-like
bite from the other side of it.
"Mmm," I mumbled around my mouthful of food. "Tasty."
Zed just stared at me like he could hardly believe I'd just
done that, and I snickered a laugh while I chewed. "I'm
heading to Copper Wolf," I told him when I'd swallowed.
"You coming?"
His gaze dipped, taking in my black, laced-up pencil
skirt and loose satin blouse with my gun holster strapped
over the top. My shoes were somewhere in the living room,
as I'd kicked them off talking to Lucas last night, and right
now they were my only pair. I really needed to restock my
wardrobe today. Big bad Hades couldn't be getting around
in men's T-shirts and sweats. Neither could Daria Wolff.
More's the shame; they were goddamn comfy to wear.
After taking way too long perusing my attire, Zed gave a
small headshake. "I've got some shit to follow up on today.
Don't worry, though; your Gumdrop is perfectly safe here
on his own."
I arched a brow. "I wasn't worried. Good to know what's
on your mind this morning, though." With a pointed look, I
went in search of my shoes while sipping my coffee. Was it
too early for Scotch? I squinted out the window at the sun,
which hadn't fully risen. Probably yes.
Zed just remained in the kitchen, watching me with an
unreadable expression as I stepped into my shoes and
finished my coffee.
"I expect a progress update from Alexi today," I told him
as I returned my mug to the sink and rinsed it out. "And we
need to arrange a meeting with the mayor of Cloudcroft.
Our gambling license for Timber still hasn't been approved,
and I think it's time we applied a little extra pressure."
Zed jerked a nod of understanding but remained silent.
Fucking melodramatic shit.
I was tempted to just leave and let him sort out his emo
feelings on the punching bag, like he'd clearly been doing
already this morning. But he was still my best friend, and it
didn't sit right to have this animosity between us.
With a sigh, I propped my butt against the counter and
folded my arms over my chest. "Zed... what the fuck is
going on with you? I haven't seen you all moody like this
since you watched the last episode of Supernatural."
I was joking, trying to ease the tension in the room, but
he just shot me a furious scowl. "That ending was fucked,
Dare, and you know it. Total fucking bullshit."
A smile touched my lips, and I rolled my eyes. At least I
was back to Dare and not Hades this morning. That had to
be a step in the right direction.
"Look, I get that you don't trust Lucas—" I started
gently, trying to broach the subject that was clearly pissing
him off so much.
Zed scoffed a bitter laugh. "You wouldn't either if you
weren't—"
"Do not insult me again, Zed," I barked, straightening up
and glaring ice-cold death. "You didn't have any issues
offering Lucas a place to stay here. In your home. You
vouched for him as his fake brother. You seemed to actually
like him a few days ago, so what the fuck changed?"
Zed's smile was brittle. "Keep your friends close and
your enemies closer, boss. Better to have him right here
under my nose so I can figure out what angle he's
working."
I stared back at him for a long moment, confused as all
fuck. He was lying... at least partially. "And Cass? Why do
you suddenly have such a vendetta against him? Two days
ago you two were all fucking buddy-buddy."
Zed's jaw tightened, and his gaze flicked away from
mine. "Just because I trust him to pick up some clothes for
you or bring us quality weed doesn't mean he's
trustworthy. He's the leader of a rival gang, and he's
clearly got an agenda."
I huffed a laugh. "The Reapers are not our rivals, Zed. I
could take them out just as easily as I wiped out the
Wraiths. Or did you forget who I fucking am? Cass is not a
threat to us, Zed."
He gave an angry shake of his head. "Respectfully, sir, I
disagree."
I rolled my eyes, tempted to be a petty bitch and ask if it
was really him who felt threatened by Cass getting closer
to me. But I bit my tongue and kept that accusation to
myself because it would only be a bullshit swipe to piss him
off. Like when someone says "calm down" in the middle of
an argument, it would only fan the flames.
So instead, I drew a deep breath and gave him a short
nod. Professional lines needed to be reestablished. "Well
then, I expect you'll present me with your evidence when
you have something conclusive. Until then, I suggest you
keep your opinions to yourself."
Zed's brow furrowed at the shift in my tone. He'd have
to be deaf and blind to have missed it. "Dare—"
"Save it, Zed. Until you're ready to either show some
hard evidence or fess up to whatever other secrets you're
holding, I don't want to hear it. Just because you have an
opinion doesn't mean I need to hear it." Brushing past him,
I grabbed the keys to his Audi from where I'd left them last
night. "I'll meet you at Anarchy this afternoon, usual time."
I made my way out of the kitchen. He shouted a curse
behind me, but I didn't stop. Fuck it. He could head down
to Anarchy early and deal with his male-PMS on the trainee
fighters there.
The drive over to Copper Wolf was quick and easy from
Zed's property, and when I arrived, I asked Hannah, my
accountant Macy’s assistant, to join me in my office.
"Did you want a coffee, sir?" Macy asked as her assistant
blinked up at me with huge eyes. Poor thing thought she
was in trouble. "Hannah was about to run down to the kiosk
for me."
"Yes, please, that would be great." I softened my severe
expression and gave Hannah a small smile. "There's no
rush, Hannah. Just come in when you get back. I won't
deprive Macy of her caffeine." I shot my accountant a
knowing look, and she returned it with a nod.
In my office, I lost myself in piles of emails and
spreadsheets until Hannah tapped on my door about fifteen
minutes later.
"Come in," I urged her, and she approached my desk
with a tall coffee cup in her hand. "Thanks, Hannah. Take a
seat."
She gave me a nervous smile and perched on the edge of
a chair, tucking her curly black hair behind her ears. Damn,
and here I was thinking my Daria Wolff face wasn't as
intimidating as my Hades one.
"Don't look so worried, Hannah," I chastised in a gentle
tone, "you're not in trouble. I just wanted your help on
something, and I don't have my own assistant. I hope Macy
won't mind me borrowing you for the day." Actually, come
to think of it, I should have checked with my accountant
first.
Hannah nodded quickly. "I'm sure it'll be fine, sir. What
can I do for you?"
"You seem like you've got a good eye for fashion,
Hannah. You're always so well dressed when I come into
the office." It was half the reason I'd thought of her for this
task. Her style seemed to echo mine quite well, if on a
slightly lower budget.
She beamed. "Thank you, sir. I interned at a fashion
magazine for a year, and it taught me a lot about personal
presentation."
I cocked my head, interested. I'd never really spoken to
Hannah before, but she'd been Macy's assistant for over a
year. "What made you leave there? I thought that was the
sort of job fashionable women dreamed of."
She quirked a smile. "Uh, yeah, I prefer to work for
bloodthirsty criminals who don't try to hide behind fake
smiles and clouds of Chanel perfume."
I arched a brow, and she gave a horrified gasp, clapping
a hand over her mouth.
"Oh my god," she squeaked in panic. "I didn't mean—"
Unable to fight the smile creasing my lips, I waved off
her frantic backpedal. "You did, and it's absolutely fine. I
think I like you, Hannah."
Her eyes widened, and her fingers trembled as she
returned her hands to her lap. "Th-thanks," she replied in a
strangled whisper.
"Anyway, I need you to help me out. My home was
destroyed yesterday." Hannah gave a shocked gasp, and I
shrugged. "So, I'm in need of a new... uh... everything.
Clothes, shoes, underwear, make-up, toiletries.
Everything." I pulled my desk drawer open and fished out
the corporate credit card I kept in there. "I don't have the
time or patience to deal with it myself. Do you mind doing it
for me?"
I was being more polite than I usually was because the
poor thing already looked like she was on the verge of a
panic attack. Her eyes flipped from my face to the black
metal credit card I held out for her to take, then back to my
face.
"I—" she started, then swallowed and wet her lips. "You
want me to go shopping?"
I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile. "Yes,
please. Is that something you can do for me?"
She gaped for another moment, then nodded quickly and
took the credit card from my hand. "Yes, absolutely. Yes,
leave it with me, sir. I can definitely sort you out. Do you,
um, can I get your sizes?"
I scribbled all my sizes down on a piece of notebook
paper and handed it over to her along with a business card
for a corporate car service I'd used on occasion.
"Call this guy; he can drive you around and carry bags
and whatnot. Then have him deliver it all to this address." I
scribbled down Zed's address. "There's a gatehouse where
he can leave everything."
Hannah took the extra note from my fingers and tucked
it into her skirt pocket. "Absolutely, leave it with me, sir. Do
you also need furniture and... all that?"
I shook my head. "Not yet. I'm staying with Zed until I
can sort out new living arrangements." I watched her
carefully as I said that, but her expression didn't change.
Maybe she hadn't yet fallen prey to Zayden De Rosa...
which seemed odd when she was easily pretty enough to
meet his standards. Somehow that made me like her a little
bit more.
"Got it," she acknowledged with a firm nod. "Thank you
for the opportunity, sir." With a wide smile, she stood to
leave.
"Wait." I scribbled another note. "This is my mobile
number. Text me if you have any questions along the way."
Her eyes almost bugged out of her head, and her fingers
shook when she took the paper from me. She gave another
nod of understanding, whispering that she was sure it'd be
fine, then made a speedy exit out of my office.
That taken care of, I picked up my phone and dialed my
aunt. She'd damn well better be drinking wine under the
Tuscan sun, or there would be hell to pay.
"Finally," she snapped on answering my call. "Took you
long enough to call me, hon. You're lucky Zed already told
me you were alive or I'd have been on a plane straight back
to Shadow Grove by now."
I gave a soft laugh. "Sorry, Demi. Things have been
crazy. Are you and Stacey staying safe over there?"
"Of course," she huffed. "Now I'm guessing you need
legal help?"
"I do," I agreed with a sigh. "I was identified at the
scene right before my building collapsed. I've already had a
call from one sketchy FBI bitch, but I'm thinking it's best to
get ahead of the ball on this."
Demi made an annoyed sound. "I'll handle it," she told
me. "I've had my eye on a promising young lawyer in the
DA's office. I think it's about time she got a new job offer."
"You're my favorite aunt in the whole world, Demi," I
replied with a grin.
She huffed again. "I'm your only fucking aunt, you brat.
You killed the other ones."
"They deserved it," I murmured, my smile slipping.
"Damn right they did," she agreed with a sigh. "Now, can
you tell me why your sister has messaged and asked if she
can come stay with us in Italy?"
I winced, rubbing my brow. "Actually, that might not be
such a bad idea," I thought out loud. "Have you got space
there for Madison Kate's crew? I'd feel better keeping a
close guard over Seph until this mess is sorted."
"I'll make space, but you didn't answer the question,
hon. Why did Seph make it sound like you'd just—"
"Stolen her boyfriend?" I cut Demi off with a sharp
laugh. "I didn't; she's just being... a teenager." There was a
long pause on the phone, and I sighed. "She had a crush on
a guy that was already taken."
"Mm-hmm," Demi replied, perceptive as always. "I'm
going to guess he was taken by you."
"Seph is upset that I didn't tell her." That was basically it
in a nutshell. No one had cheated on anyone. She was just
hurt that I’d kept secrets from her.
Demi didn't say anything for a pause, then clicked her
tongue. "I'll sort out some guest rooms and tell Seph to sort
out her flights. As for you? Stay alive. Understood?"
"Thanks, Demi," I said with a sigh. "You really are my
favorite aunt. Give my love to Stacey."
She mumbled something about how I was going to give
her a stress heart attack, then ended the call to sort out my
new legal counsel.

OceanofPDF.com
16

T he rest of my morning was completely eaten up


with Copper Wolf business, and I didn't even
notice the time until my phone lit up with Alexi's name.
Lucas didn't have a phone, so I had no way to call and
check in on him. So when I saw it was already after noon, a
spike of worry rippled through me.
"Alexi," I snapped, answering the call. "I hope you have
good news for me."
"I have news," he corrected. "Zed said you were at
Copper Wolf; do you want me to come there?" The sound of
padded gloves hitting sandbags echoed in the background
of his phone.
"Are you at Anarchy?" I asked, closing down the
windows on my computer.
"KJ-Fit," he replied, "but I can head over to Anarchy
now."
"Done, I'll meet you there. I'm leaving Copper Wolf now,
so I'll be an hour or so." I ended the call and left my office. I
paused a moment to chat with Macy, then bade her farewell
and headed for the elevator.
I checked my phone while waiting and replied to a
message from Hannah, who was awkwardly asking if she
was working with a budget. Cute.
The elevator dinged, announcing its arrival, and the
doors slid open. Not looking up from my phone, I stepped
in. A strong hand closed over my wrist and jerked me
forward, pulling me against a hard, leather-jacketed body.
"I almost fucking stabbed you," I muttered, meeting
Cass's dark eyes as the elevator doors closed behind me.
"Don't surprise me like that."
His lips curled up in a micro-smile. "You don't even have
a knife on you, Red." He used his grip on my wrist to spin
us around, pushing my back into the wall of the elevator.
I tilted my chin up, holding his gaze. "I'm resourceful,
Cassiel. I'd have managed."
He made an amused sound, then lowered his lips to
meet mine in a harsh, bruising kiss. I kissed him back just
as hard, my free hand reaching up to cling onto the back of
his neck as I molded my body against his.
Then the elevator dinged to announce we'd reached the
parking level, and I pushed him away forcefully.
"What are you doing here?" I asked as I stepped out and
fished car keys from my bag. "I generally like to keep
Copper Wolf fairly free of known gang leaders." He arched
a brow at me, and I explained. "Daria Wolff is just a
businesswoman, Cass."
His gaze ran over me, hungry and lustful. "Well, I was
coming to see if Daria Wolff wanted to come to lunch with
me."
I jerked to a stop in the middle of the parking lot. "You
came to... take me to lunch?"
He met my eyes, cool as a damn cucumber. "You need to
eat; so do I. I was in the area already..." He tipped his head
to the side. "You like steak?"
I didn't fight the smile creasing my lips, but at the same
time I shook my head. "You're full of fucking surprises,
Saint. But I have an appointment at Anarchy in an hour.
Raincheck?"
His brow creased, but he gave a short nod. "Fine. Dinner
instead, then."
A surprised laugh escaped my chest. "Cass—"
"I wasn't asking, Red," he growled in a quiet,
commanding voice. "I'll pick you up at eight."
Damn it all to hell, my pussy instantly heated and my
breath caught. I was still aching and bruised from our
rough escapade the day before, but that didn’t deter me in
the least. Goddamn, I was turning into an addict.
Biting back a smile, I gave a shrug. "I don't know if I'll
be back by eight. I've got a lot of shit to deal with today."
Cass knew I was being deliberately difficult, I could tell
by the way his eyes glittered, and he crowded me against
the door of Zed's car. His inked fingers wrapped around my
throat, but he didn't choke me. Instead, he just leaned
down and kissed me until I forgot whose air I was
breathing.
"I'll pick you up at eight," he growled with sex-drenched
promise, and his lips brushed over my cheekbone before he
released me and stepped away. "Wherever you are."
I didn't reply because I was too busy getting my breath
back and clenching my thighs tight. Damn Cass... I badly
needed replacement underwear. Skirts weren't ideal when
my cunt was getting so wet around him.
His lips curved in an arrogant smirk as he backed up a
couple of steps toward his bike, and I rolled my eyes. I'd
never realized just how big Grumpy Cat's ego was, but he
was giving Zed a run for his money now.
Flipping him off, I popped my car door open and slid
inside before I could do something stupid—like throw
myself at him for a quick fuck right there in the parking lot.
As hot as that was in my imagination, it was just a straight
up terrible idea in reality.
While driving back to Shadow Grove, it took me longer
than I'd have expected to get my shit under control once
more. Then I started questioning everything. Was Zed right
about Cass having an ulterior motive? If so... what? He
surely wasn't working with Chase. The timing was simply
coincidental in that it was me who'd made the first move on
him. That couldn't have been manipulated. Hell, I hadn't
even known I was going to do it until it happened.
By the time I pulled into the parking lot of Anarchy, I
was an irritable mess and itching for a fight.
To my disappointment, though, neither Zed or Alexi
were in the training center. A couple of younger
Timberwolves were there lifting weights, and they
scrambled to greet me politely. But it didn't seem fair to
take out my bad mood on them.
With a sigh, I left them and headed over to the security
office beside the big top. Zed was sitting at one of the
desks looking freshly showered, and Alexi sat opposite him
with a grim expression on his face.
My head of security was in workout clothes, like he'd
come straight from the MMA gym without wasting time on
a shower or change of clothes, which probably meant his
news wasn't good.
"Boss," Zed said with a tight smile as I approached.
"Good of you to join us."
"Bite me, Zed," I hissed under my breath as I reached
him. "Get out of my chair."
It wasn't my chair, it was just a chair. But there was
power in positioning, and while I was all for a power
exchange in the bedroom—apparently—I wasn't interested
in it in business settings.
Zed raised a brow at me, the desire to push my buttons
all over his damn face. But after a moment, he stood up and
brushed a hand over my lower back as I swapped positions
with him.
"Alexi," I said, addressing my grim-faced employee.
"What do you have for me? Or have you already filled Zed
in?"
Alexi shook his head, his eyes locked on my face. "No,
sir. I waited for you to get here."
Zed huffed with irritation, and he rested a hand on my
shoulder. "Alexi apparently doesn't think I could relay the
information correctly, boss."
Alexi's brows shot up. "What? No, that's not—"
"Oh, shut up, both of you," I snapped before the
conversation could turn any more childish.
Alexi's lips tightened, and he frowned at Zed's hand on
my shoulder. Actually, why the fuck was Zed's hand on my
shoulder?
His fingers tightened, and Alexi's face darkened.
Seriously?
I tilted my face, giving Zed a scathing glare. He knew
damn well what he was doing and that I wasn't in the
fucking mood. But it didn't stop him from shooting me a sly
smirk as he withdrew his possessive hand from my
shoulder.
Alexi was an idiot for being riled up by that. Everyone
knew Zed and I were purely platonic and that I wasn't
remotely interested in Alexi.
With an irritated sigh, I turned my attention back to my
trusted Timberwolf. "Get on with it, Alexi. I've got a lot to
do today."
"Yes, boss," he replied, chastised. "I've been conducting
interviews like you requested."
I jerked a nod. "And?"
"And so far only found one questionable suspect that I'd
like to review in more detail. But I have plans to head
further abroad this afternoon and personally meet with the
regional Timberwolf leaders." He paused, his jaw tight and
his eyes nervous. "But something strange came up, and I
think you need to know."
I raised one brow, and Zed shifted beside me, folding his
arms over his chest.
"Boss... someone recently dug up Chase Lockhart's
grave." Alexi looked genuinely disturbed by this news, and
the tension inside me eased.
Leaning back in my chair, I kept my gaze glued to his
face. "Why do you think someone would do that?"
His brows hitched. "Honestly? I have no idea. It's
bizarre. The body was missing too. So..." He trailed off,
shaking his head in disbelief. "I can't work it out, boss. But
considering everything else going on, it seemed relevant."
"Thank you for letting us know, Alexi." I kept my
expression neutral and gave him a small nod. "Is there
anything else?"
He flicked a confused gaze between Zed and me, clearly
taken aback by our lack of reaction to this news, then
shook his head. "Uh, no sir. No, that's everything so far."
"Good. We appreciate you informing us of this; please
continue to keep us updated no matter how irrelevant the
information might seem. You can go now."
Alexi hesitated a moment longer, then gave us each a
polite nod and started out of the office.
"Hold up," I called after him. "The suspicious interview
you conducted, send Zed the info, and we will handle the
follow-up."
"Absolutely, boss. I'll send it right over."
When he was gone, I spun around in my chair to pin Zed
with a hard glare.
"What?" he asked, feigning innocence.
"What the fuck was that?" I jerked my head toward the
door, indicating where Alexi had disappeared.
Zed knew full fucking well what I meant and just gave a
shrug. "He was eye fucking the shit out of you, boss. I
figured it didn't hurt to remind him that you're not
interested."
I scoffed a laugh. "You're so full of shit. Alexi has been
eye fucking me for years; that's nothing new. And last I
checked, I wasn't interested in you like that either."
In a move that surprised me more than I cared to admit,
Zed leaned down and placed his hands on the arms of my
chair, getting all up in my personal space.
"Maybe you need to check again, Dare. You're usually
more self-aware than this," he whispered so softly that if it
weren't for the crazy-intense look in his eyes, I'd have
thought I’d heard him wrong.
Then just as abruptly, he pushed away and stalked out of
the office like the hounds of hell were snapping at his
heels.
"Zed!" I shouted after him, surging out of the chair.
"What the fuck?"
"Marketing team is waiting for us inside fun zone," he
replied, tossing the words over his shoulder without
slowing down. "We're late."
Vaguely I recalled seeing a meeting with our Fight Night
promoters scheduled in my weekly planner but had
dismissed it as unimportant right now. Apparently, Zed
hadn't cancelled it, though. But since when did either of us
give two fucks about keeping people waiting?
Weird. So damn weird.

OceanofPDF.com
17

A fter meeting with our marketing team, I got the call


I'd been waiting on from my new legal counsel. Her
name was Genevieve Le Clair, and I was willing to
bet Demi had made her a jaw-dropping offer to make the
move. After speaking with her for half an hour, I was
thoroughly impressed and confident Demi had chosen well
in her replacement.
Gen assured me that she would handle everything with
law enforcement on my behalf, and in return I assured her
that she'd be well compensated for her effort. Those were
the easy transactions with smart people that made me love
my job.
When I finished my call, I decided to leave dealing with
the rest of our meetings to Zed. Lucas had been asleep
when I’d left for the day, and the more time that’d passed,
the more anxious I was getting about checking on him.
I shot Zed a text to tell him I was going back to his
place, then called Dallas to arrange another phone for
Lucas. I hated not being able to text him and also didn't
want to investigate that feeling too closely.
Dallas, however, was fast becoming one of my most
useful recruits. He assured me that he'd bring over a clean
phone for Lucas after he picked up baby Maddox from
daycare.
I passed a familiar black SUV on my way up Zed's street,
and when I paused at the gate to key in the access code, I
found an enormous pile of shopping bags stacked neatly
beside the gate. I popped the trunk to load them all in.
"Lucas?" I called out upon letting myself into Zed's
house. "Are you here?"
He didn't answer immediately, and I checked my phone
out of habit. There was nothing to explain his absence—of
course—but there was a message from Hannah letting me
know she'd sent over a carload of purchases.
I smiled as I replied that I had them, and she quickly
added that she would send more at the end of the day.
Hannah was fast making me wish I had my own
assistant instead of relying on Zed for everything. Not only
was she efficient and took initiative, she was also polite and
upbeat.
Tucking my phone away, I wandered upstairs. Maybe
Lucas had gone back to sleep. I wouldn't have blamed him
if he had; sleep was the best thing for healing.
The guest bed where I'd left him was vacant, though,
and I’d almost walked out before I caught the floral scent of
bath products.
"Lucas?" I called out again, and this time the bathroom
door opened.
"You're back." He smiled wide, standing in the doorway
in nothing but a towel. Steam wafted out from behind him,
and I needed to bite the inside of my lip to keep the drool in
my mouth.
A thick gauze patch covered half of his chest, and I
focused on that rather than his wet, rippling abs as I
crossed the room toward him.
"Sorry I left so early," I said with a weak smile. "How are
you feeling?"
Dark bruises covered almost the whole side of his body
where he must have taken some kicks, and his black eye
was fading to a greenish purple.
"I feel great," he replied, not even seeming to be joking.
"I mean, it wasn't the easiest to bathe without wetting this
dressing, but I figured it out." He looked down at the gauze
and frowned. "Or I thought I had."
I reached out and ran my fingertip over the sticky edges
of the bandage where it was lifting from his skin. He'd
definitely gotten it wet.
"I can replace this for you," I told him with a smile. "Wait
here; I'm almost certain Zed has these same dressings in
the medical kit downstairs."
Leaving Lucas to get dressed, I ran back down to the
kitchen and retrieved the supplies I needed. When I
returned to the bedroom, he was pulling on a pair of
sweatpants, and I really needed to keep my tongue inside
my head. What was it about sweatpants on a gorgeous
man?
"Sit," I told him, pointing to the end of the bed.
He did as he was told and sat perfectly still as I used the
edge of my fingernail to peel his soggy dressings off the
wounds on his chest. There were two that needed covering.
One was from the stab wound and subsequent surgery to
save his life, and that was covered with surgical tape still.
It seemed to be an impeccably precise incision line—from
what I could see through the translucent tape—and I had
no doubt it'd heal easily and leave minimal scarring.
The other... was a different story. I drew a deep breath
as I stared down at the burn on Lucas's otherwise smooth
chest, and fury built up deep within me.
"They should have removed this and skin grafted it while
you were under general," I muttered in outrage. The design
was almost perfectly untouched. One side had a small
shadow where it looked like the brand had moved against
his flesh, but otherwise it was perfectly recognizable as my
Darling logo.
Lucas breathed a soft laugh, placing his hand on my
waist and giving me a small squeeze. "I think they were
more concerned with making sure my lungs were working
properly, babe."
My gaze shifted up to his face, and I quirked a brow.
"Babe? Seriously?"
His grin spread wide over his face. "What? Just ’cause
I'm younger doesn't mean I can't call you babe. You are a
babe. Have you seen you? You're—"
I shut him up with a hard kiss, then pushed him back
onto the bed with a firm hand to his good shoulder. "Stay
still; I need to stick this dressing in place."
He smirked, his hands still clasping my hips as I leaned
over him. "Yes, ma'am."
Rolling my eyes, I didn't try to fight my smile. I loved his
playfulness. I loved that Chase hadn't managed to
extinguish even the tiniest piece of the light inside Lucas.
And I hated that Zed was now making me question whether
it was all an act.
My smile slipped at that thought, and I kept my eyes on
Lucas's chest as I finished replacing his dressings, then
took a step away.
"What just happened?" Lucas asked in a quiet voice,
sitting up once more.
I gave a small sigh and shook my head. "Doesn't matter."
He reached out and grabbed my waist again when I
tried to retreat further. "It does matter. Hayden, whatever
is on your mind, you can talk to me about it. I know I'm not
as useful as Zed, but I'm a pretty good problem solver. And
I can listen like a pro if you just need to talk something
out."
Sometimes I could swear Lucas wasn't even real. He
knew exactly what to say to slide past my defenses to the
point where I was wondering why I even bothered trying to
keep those walls up around him.
Wavering, I let him tug me gently closer until he could
wrap both arms around my waist and look up at me with
total adoration. Goddamn. That look should have scared me
straight, but it just made me more invested.
"Would it make you feel better if I told you a secret in
return?" he offered, and something suspiciously close to
panic flashed over his face.
It didn't make me instantly guarded and cautious like my
better sense told me I should be. Instead, I just felt like an
asshole for making him think he needed to trade in order to
pry inside my head.
"Zed thinks you're playing me," I told him honestly. "So
now I'm wondering if everything you do, everything you
say... is an act."
Lucas's brows raised, but he didn't look offended.
Instead, he just gave a slow nod of understanding. "I can
see how he might think that," he murmured, holding my
gaze with open sincerity. "I get the feeling you don't really
do relationships?" He tipped his head to the side, and I
wrinkled my nose in confirmation. "And Zed's been your
right-hand man for... forever, right? You guys are close."
"Yeah," I said on a sigh. "We've been friends for thirteen
years. He's been my second since the day we took over the
Timberwolves. He knows me better than I know myself."
Lucas hummed a small sound. "I doubt that. But I get
why he's suspicious. For one thing, the timing is awful. Me
meeting you the same weekend as someone starts
attacking your power structure? Uh, yeah. I'd be confused
if you guys didn't think I was involved." He said it with a
laugh, showing he was perfectly comfortable with the
accusation. There was no defensiveness to his body
language, just an eagerness to disprove Zed's suspicions.
"For another thing," he continued, his fingers tightening
on my waist to pull me closer. His head was tipped back,
and I couldn't stop myself from running my fingers through
his damp hair. "Zed's probably feeling threatened."
A small sound of surprise escaped my throat.
"Threatened?" I gave a laugh. "Nah, I don't think that's it.
He's just..."
Lucas arched a brow. "Protective?"
I gave a small shrug, uncomfortable discussing my
friendship with Zed. "Yeah. We've been through a lot
together. I'd probably be the same way if he was seeing a
girl seriously." Not that he ever had. The girls he picked up
were for one thing and commitment wasn't it.
"Serious, huh? Is that what we are?" Lucas didn't look at
all panicked, only amused. Meanwhile, I'd just heard what I
said and was quietly dying inside of embarrassment.
"That's not what I meant," I muttered, feeling my cheeks
heat. But... it kind of was. Not that I was sneaking off to
plan our fucking wedding, but things between Lucas and I
were a whole hell of a lot more serious than I'd ever been
with anyone since Chase. "Besides, he's also getting
paranoid about Cass. So I'm pretty sure he's just on his
period or something."
Lucas scoffed a laugh. "Yeah, and you want to tell me
he's not threatened?"
I glared at him, deep in denial. "Don't you owe me a
secret in return?" Not that I really needed an information
exchange, but shit if I wasn't curious to know what secrets
this unicorn guy was carrying.
The teasing smile slipped from his lips. "Yeah, I guess I
do. But I have one more question first. Or, actually, two."
Curious, I tipped my head. "Go on then."
He wet his lips, and it drew my attention like a magnet.
"Okay, first question, will you take me to see my mom in
the care facility? I didn't want to leave here earlier without
telling you where I was, but she must be so worried and—"
"Yes, of course," I cut him off, cupping my hand around
the back of his neck. "You don't need to explain; I should
have offered to take you last night."
Relief washed over his face, and it made me feel like a
big asshole for not realizing he'd want to see her for
himself. It was a testament to how far I'd distanced myself
from my own loved ones that it hadn't even occurred to me.
"Okay," he replied with a small exhale. "Maybe that will
help you see that I'm not some undercover spy with a
fabricated past." He smirked like that was a crazy
suggestion in the first place. Little did he know…
"What's your second question?" I redirected.
In answer, Lucas reached up and guided my face down
to his. He kissed me until I was dizzy and breathless, my
knees weak and my heart pounding, then pulled back just
far enough to ask his question in a low, husky voice.
"Does that feel like an act to you, Hayden? Because to
me, it feels like the most real thing I've ever experienced."
Holy fuck.
Clearing my throat, I released his neck, then swept a
shaking hand through my hair. "So, what's your secret?"
He cringed slightly, dragging his lush lower lip through
his teeth as his thumb stroked circles over my hip. "Uh,
okay. I mean I have told you before, but I think you maybe
misunderstood... You were my first."
I blinked a couple of times, waiting for him to finish his
sentence. Then it hit me like a lead weight. That sentence
was complete.
"Get fucked," I breathed in utter disbelief.
An embarrassed smile crossed his face. "Uh, yeah, I sure
did. With you. In... a supply room at Scruffy Murphy's."

OceanofPDF.com
18

M y knuckles were white on the steering wheel as


I turned us sharply into the visitor parking at
Sunshine Estate. We hadn't spoken for the
entire drive over, and I was still at a loss for words.
Okay, that wasn't strictly true. Lucas had tried to talk to
me several times, and I'd shut him up with a pointed glare.
"You're freaking out," he said with a sigh as I shifted the
car into park and killed the engine.
Gritting my teeth, I shook my head. "I'm not."
Lucas gave a sharp laugh. "Yes, you are."
Blowing out a breath, I turned to face him properly for
the first time since he'd admitted that I took his fucking
virginity. After realizing what he'd meant, I'd sort of just...
panicked. I'd panicked. And mumbled something about
needing to leave before Sunshine Estate visiting hours
were over. Then hadn't said a word since.
Yeah, and people thought Hades was always so cool,
calm, and collected. If they could see me now...
"Okay, I am." I gave him a hard look. "Why didn't you tell
me sooner? Why did you let me—"
"I did," he cut me off with a gentle laugh. "I told you it
was my first time."
My jaw opened, but no coherent words came out for a
second. Then I just made a strangled sound of
exasperation. "I thought you meant it was your first one-
night stand! Or... your first time for public sex! Lucas,
how?"
His brows hitched. "How... what? How was I an almost
nineteen-year-old virgin applying for a job in a brothel?"
Jesus fuck, I'd totally forgotten that he’d initially wanted
a back-of-house position at 7th Circle. I cringed. Hard.
"You wanted to lose it before becoming a prostitute,
then?" That made a little more sense as to why he'd been so
willing to fuck a strange woman in a supply closet.
But Lucas just shook his head with a short laugh. "Uh,
no. Actually, I hadn't thought it through all that well. I knew
I'd be a good dancer; I knew I could make good money as a
stripper. But I also knew Swinging Dick's was only hiring
for both positions, and I was... am... desperate." A pained
look crossed his face, and I drew a sharp breath as
understanding dawned. He'd taken the job at 7th Circle
because he needed the money. Now the club had gone up in
flames and Lucas's injuries would prevent him from
dancing again until he’d healed.
Not that I was letting his bills pile up thanks to my
fuckups. His mom's debts had already been cleared, and
her stay at Sunshine was fully paid for. But Lucas didn't
know that, and I got the feeling he wouldn't be happy about
it either.
"I don't get it, Lucas," I groaned, resting my head on the
steering wheel. "You're... you. There must have been girls
panting all over you for years in school—"
"Homeschooled, remember?" he interrupted with a flash
of a grin.
I rolled my eyes. "Okay, then just in general. You must
have had girlfriends before. Hell, Seph was ready to make a
damn fool of herself over you even when she knew you
were taken."
He shrugged. "None of them have ever interested me
like that," he admitted. "I’ve been on a few dates, but it
never went that far. There was always just something
missing. For a while I thought maybe I was gay." He gave
me another smile. "Now I know better. I was just waiting
for the right person."
That statement did crazy things to my insides, and it was
all getting a bit too heavy for my liking. So I unbuckled my
seat belt and popped the door open.
"We should get in there before the visiting hours end," I
told him, changing the subject so hard I almost gave myself
whiplash. "Your mom will be dying to see you."
“Actually,” he said, getting out of his side but leaning
against the car when I started toward the entrance. “At the
risk of reminding you more of my age… I’m supposed to be
at school this week.”
I jerked to a halt and blinked at him in shock. “Oh fuck. I
totally forgot about that.”
He winced. “Damn. I was sort of hoping you’d pulled
rank on the principal or something so I wouldn’t get
expelled.”
I flashed him a grin. “I’m kidding. I had to excuse Seph,
so I took care of yours too. In case anyone asks, you have
glandular fever. You’ve still got to do the coursework, but
it’s being emailed to you to do at home.”
A visible rush of relief washed over his face, and he
strode forward to grab my face and kiss me. “You’re
fucking amazing, Hayden.”
I rolled my eyes. “Uh-huh. Maybe some time you can tell
me why you even went to Shadow Prep instead of just
getting a GED.” I arched a brow at him, and he nodded.
“Absolutely, yes.” He threaded his hand together with
mine and we made our way through the grand entrance to
the care facility. We paused to sign in at the guest registry,
then a male nurse showed us the way through to Sandra
Wildeboer's room.
Before we entered, Lucas hesitated. A quick look at his
face told me he was tense—maybe even scared—and I took
a guess that he was worried his mom might have
deteriorated in the past few days. Or maybe he was scared
what her response would be to his visible bruising. Either
way, I acted on instinct. My fingers linked through his, and
I gave him a small squeeze of reassurance.
The way his shoulders relaxed told me it was the right
move, and he reached for the door handle with a renewed
confidence.
His mom was sitting near the wide picture window, her
back to us as we entered, but her head tipped in a way that
said she'd heard us.
"Mom?" Lucas spoke up, heading toward her with my
hand still tightly clasped in his own. "It's me."
"Of course it is," the woman replied, her speech slow
and slightly slurred. "No one else would be visiting." Her
words were harsh, but her tone wasn't unkind. Just... sad.
The room she'd been given was lovely and not at all like
a hospital, if you ignored the nurse call buttons and safety
rails. Otherwise, it just felt like a room inside a country bed
and breakfast. A vase full of sunflowers sat on the small
table, and the bed was made up with a floral comforter.
"Mom, this is Hayden," Lucas offered, tugging me closer
to introduce me to his mother. "She's my... uh..."
"Girlfriend," I finished for him, swallowing hard against
the spike of panic that word caused. It seemed like a more
palatable explanation for Lucas's unwell mother to grasp,
though, so I went with it.
She turned her wheelchair slightly so she could look up
at us, a small smile on her lips. A ripple of surprise ran
through me at seeing how young she was. She couldn't
have been more than forty-five at most, her dark hair
showing only the thinnest streaks of gray and her face only
holding lines around her eyes.
Sandra Wildeboer was gorgeous. I could see where her
son got his looks from, no question.
"Hayden," she greeted me with a resigned sigh. "I
should have guessed."
Confused, I flicked a glance at Lucas. He looked just as
puzzled as me, though, so I turned my attention back to his
mother. "Uh, guessed what, ma'am?"
It never hurt to be polite when meeting your boy-toy's
parent, right? Sure. That sounded legit.
"I should have guessed," she repeated, her slow words
deliberate, "when that nice nurse showed up at my house
with a Timberwolf tattoo."
My brows shot up and my lips parted. Her speech might
be impaired and her body confined to a wheelchair, but the
look in Sandra Wildeboer's eyes was sharp as a blade. She
knew exactly who I was... but how?
"You look like her," she told me, her gaze running over
my face with familiarity. "And him. That hardness in your
eyes... it's all your daddy." Her tone went cold and hard
with that comment, and anger swelled in my chest with my
inhale.
"Lucas," I murmured. "May I have a moment alone with
your mother?"
"No," he replied without hesitation. "Sorry, but no way."
Incredulous, I gave him a hard stare, but he just shook
his head and met my gaze with stubborn defiance.
"Luka, baby," his mother said with a small laugh, "go and
get me a coffee."
Lucas glared down at his mother. "What? No, you can
talk with me here."
I swallowed back the laugh that wanted to bubble out of
me, but I gave his fingers a reassuring squeeze. "I promise
I'm not going to hurt your mom, Lucas. I just want to talk
with her a moment." And find out how in the hell she knew
my parents. What connection did the Wildeboer family have
to the Timbers?
"That's not what I was worried about," Lucas muttered,
but he seemed to know he was outnumbered. He gave him
mom a hard look. "Be nice, Mom. I like her."
Sandra just smiled and waited for her son to leave the
room before indicating that I sit down. I pulled over a chair
from the small table and sat facing her as she eyed me up
from her wheelchair.
"Hayden Timber," she murmured. "I'd have thought Luka
too young for the likes of you."
I sat back, tucking my ankles over one another. "Why,
because I'm a woman? No one has a problem when a man
dates younger." I arched my brow at her, silently
questioning her feminist standpoint.
Her lips curled in a sly smile. "Good answer. I bet you
want to know how I knew your parents, huh?"
I inclined my head. "That would be nice. I wasn't aware
Lucas had any connections to my world."
She grunted an annoyed sound. "He doesn't. But I did.
Once." She drew a shaking breath and let it out slowly. "I
should warn you, my mind isn't what it used to be.
Sometimes things get a bit... lost."
"You seem pretty sharp to me, Ms. Wildeboer." It was a
somewhat dry accusation, and she huffed a laugh.
"Right now, yes. You got me on a good day, Hayden." She
tilted her head to the side, her eyes inspecting my face. "Do
you remember much of your mother? She died when you
were very young."
I swallowed past old, bitter emotions that tried to
surface, holding onto my calm mask like a life raft. "I
remember more than Seph does," I answered, not really
answering the question at all. I remembered a lot of my
mother, I just chose not to think about her. I chose to keep
those memories locked up tight, and no matter how curious
I was about Lucas's mom, I wasn't pulling them out for a
trip down memory lane.
"We were friends," Sandra told me in a nostalgic
whisper, her eyes misty as she gazed at me. I got the
feeling she wasn't seeing me at all, but my mom. "Natasha
was too good for your father. He knew it too."
My jaw tightened. "She didn't die in a car accident, did
she?"
Sandra gave a sad sigh. "No. He shot her. She tried to
leave him, tried to take you and your sister, and he shot
her."
Those words were like a knife in my already bleeding
heart. "How do you know?" I asked, my voice hoarse.
"Because I saw it happen," she murmured. "And I was so
scared. I had Luka to think of, so I ran. I made some bad
choices, trusted the wrong people to keep me safe..." Her
words trailed off, tears gathering in her eyes.
I waited, tense with anticipation, but she didn't
continue. Instead, she just gave me a pleading look and
held out a weak, trembling hand. "Keep my boy safe,
Hades," she whispered, the slur to her words making it
hard to understand. "Please. You owe me nothing, but—"
"Of course I will," I cut her off, promising her despite the
danger Lucas had already landed in thanks to me. "But, you
need to tell me more. What happened after you ran? How
were you and my mom friends in the first place?"
Sandra shook her head, her eyelids fluttering. "I'm sorry,
it's just..." She grimaced, clearly annoyed. "Will you call the
nurse for me, Tasha? I'm not feeling so good."
Shock held me immobile for a second, then I slowly
replied. "It's Hayden. I'm... I'm not Natasha."
Sandra blinked at me, then nodded with a laugh. "Yes,
sorry. Of course. I knew that, Hayden. Things just get a bit
foggy sometimes."
Frustrated but biting back my feelings, I reached for the
nurse call button and pressed it for her. "That's okay,
Sandra," I assured her. "It's all in the past anyway." The
door opened then, but instead of the nurse, it was Lucas
returning with a coffee in each hand. "Look, Luka is back
with your coffee."
He gave me a questioning look, but I just retreated to
give him some time with his mom. A nurse passed me as I
was leaving the room, and I briefly described how Sandra
had just had a moment of confusion.
The nurse nodded knowingly. "Pretty normal," she told
me with a smile. "Thanks." She continued into the room,
and I made my way outside.
As badly as I wanted to know more about Sandra's
connection to my mom, I wasn't cold enough to push an
unwell woman for answers that would ultimately give me
nothing. She'd known my mom before she died, and—if I
was to understand correctly—had left Shadow Grove a long
time before I came into power. Nothing she could tell me of
my deceased parents would be relevant to my current
struggles.
More importantly, none of it implicated Lucas as being
anything more than he seemed. He would've only been four
when Sandra ran from Shadow Grove, and I didn't care
how deeply involved she'd been in the Timberwolves, he
was innocent.
Lucas didn't stay long before rejoining me in the car,
and I gave him a concerned frown as he closed his door.
"You can stay longer," I told him. "I just didn't want to
intrude."
He shook his head. "Nah, she needs rest." His jaw
tightened, and he seemed to be searching for the right
words to say something more. Eventually he ran his fingers
through his hair and let his shoulders droop on a long
exhale.
"Thank you," he said. "For this." He waved a hand at the
entrance to Sunshine Estate. "She needed more care than I
could provide, but this... this was way out of reach."
I quirked a lopsided smile, not used to being thanked so
genuinely. It was awkward, but in a good way. "Considering
you almost died because of me? It really was the least I
could do." Acting on instinct, I reached out and threaded
my hand around the back of his neck, pulling him into a
kiss.
He kissed me back without even a shadow of hesitation,
letting his full lips explore mine in a way that made my
whole body hot with need.
"What was that for?" he murmured with an edge of
surprise.
I licked my lips, starting the car up. "I like you too,
Luka."

OceanofPDF.com
19

Z ed called me before we got back to his house,


asking me to head back to Anarchy. The tone of his
voice told me it wasn't a casual request, and I didn't push
him for further information on the phone. I just changed
direction and drove back to the creepy old repurposed
amusement park.
Lucas grimaced as I drove in under the enormous
laughing clown face, and I shot him an amused glance.
"Not a fan of clowns?"
He wrinkled his nose, rubbing a fingertip over the
yellowing bruise around his eye. "Is anyone? That shit is
creepy as fuck. What made you buy this place anyway?"
I barked a laugh. "Why not? It was going cheap and
already had a reputation for hosting cage fights. Easy
choice."
Getting out of the car, I headed for the fun zone, where I
usually found Zed at this time. It was past dusk, the drive
to and from Sunshine Estate having taken longer than I
anticipated. The main bar would have opened a couple of
hours ago, so I expected to find him sitting at the bar with
a drink in hand.
The bouncer on the door greeted me respectfully, then
directed me down to the lower level, where our private
dance rooms were. It was also where our dancers
registered as back-of-house workers could take clients for
more than just a lap dance.
Anarchy was predominantly to host fight nights, so the
basement of the club only had a couple of private rooms,
but that was where I found Zed waiting for me.
Two of my high-ranking Timberwolves, Fang and Jim-
Bob, flanked one of the doorways and gave me respectful
nods as I pushed the door open.
"Boss," Zed greeted me, then shifted his gaze to Lucas
with a subtle narrowing of his eyes.
I folded my arms over my chest, taking in the scene in
front of me.
"What's going on here?" The question was quite clearly
for Zed, and the other occupants of the room knew it. The
near-naked woman sitting on the bed with her arms around
her knees just blinked up at me, her cheek puffy and red
with a handprint. The man who was no doubt responsible
for that handprint? Well, he couldn't have answered me
even if he’d wanted to. Zed had him on the floor, hog-tied
and gagged, but not in a fun sort of way.
"Gigi's client thought he could take liberties that he
hadn't paid for," Zed told me in a cold voice of disgust. He
gave the hog-tied man a swift kick that rolled him over and
revealed a bleeding wound in his side. "Apparently he
didn't realize all our staff are trained in self-defense. Gigi
disarmed him before he could cut her and raised an alarm."
I looked over to the woman on the bed. She was clearly
shaken, but nowhere near a blubbering mess. "Good work,
Gigi," I praised her, taking a couple of steps closer to
inspect her face a little better. She understood what I was
doing, raising her face up to show me the handprint and
some red marks around her throat. "Jim-Bob!" I called out
to one of the door guards. "Go and fetch Gigi an ice pack
from upstairs. Go get dressed; you can take the night off." I
directed this last order directly to Gigi. She was a beautiful
girl, maybe a year or so younger than me with long blonde
hair and huge tits. I was pleased to see she'd been able to
defend herself.
She gave me a defiant shake of her head, a flash of
worry showing across her face as she drew a breath.
"You'll be paid out for the whole night," I told her before
she could protest, and relief washed over her. "Jim-Bob will
escort you home too."
"Thank you, Hades," she said in a small voice, scooting
her sequined-thong-wearing ass off the bed and giving
Lucas a wide-eyed look of appreciation. She made no
attempt to cover her bare breasts as she brushed past him,
and an acidic bubble of jealousy formed inside me.
Lucas didn't look, though, and placed his hand on the
small of my back like a silent declaration that he was with
me. Smart boy.
"So, you want to tell me why you called me down here?"
I asked Zed after Gigi was gone. "Clients getting rough
with the staff is something the security can handle
themselves." Usually with a baseball bat or steel-toe boot.
Assholes learned real fast not to hurt my workers. I didn't
care how much they were paying, consent was key, and last
I checked, Gigi wasn't into those kinks.
Zed gave an irritated glance at Lucas, then nudged the
bound guy with his boot again. "See that?"
The man wasn't in the best shape, with a heavy layer of
fat around his belly and a thick coating of hair across his
shoulders. He'd also inked himself up in pseudo-gang
tattoos, shit that looked like he was in a gang but were just
vanity pieces. Except for one.
With a groan, I crouched down to get a better look at the
one-inch-square design on his shoulder. "Motherfucker."
"My thoughts exactly," Zed agreed.
I sat back on my heels, a million thoughts racing
through my brain. Then I pulled my phone out and scrolled
for a familiar contact.
"Getting impatient, Red?" Cass answered on the first
ring, and I bit back a smile at his greeting. "I'm on my way
to pick you up now."
Ah shit, our dinner date. It must be almost eight.
"Raincheck, Grumpy Cat. I need you to come to Anarchy."
"Be there in ten," he replied, not questioning me. I
appreciated that.
Ending the call, I stood up again and raked my fingers
through my hair. "Fang, come help Zed move this prick
down to the cold room," I ordered. "Then don't take you
damn eyes off him until I get back."
"Yes, sir," Fang replied, stepping aside to let me out of
the small room before he entered. Lucas followed me,
questions rolling off him in waves, but he bit his tongue
nonetheless.
"I'll meet you down there," I told Zed.
He jerked a nod of understanding, and I led Lucas back
up to the main club. We paused briefly at the bar so I could
advise the manager not to venture into the cold room for a
while, then made our way back out to the parking lot.
"What's going on?" Lucas asked when we were safely
away from anyone who might be listening. "Was that tattoo
on his back what I think it was?"
I wrapped my arms around myself, wishing I could lie to
him. But... something about Lucas made me want to be
honest with him. "The same design that got branded into
your chest by a madman last week? Yeah. Who gave it to
him remains to be seen, but... I have a fair idea."
He nodded silently, his jaw tight, and a wave of guilt
washed over me. I still hadn't explained to him exactly what
had happened when he was taken. I hadn't told him why he
was taken or who I was pretty sure had been responsible.
Nothing.
Fucking hell, Lucas deserved better than my messed-up
ass.
"I'll explain everything when I get home," I told him in a
soft voice, reaching out to place my hand on his cheek.
Tilting his face back toward me, I rose up on my toes to
press a light kiss on his lips.
He gave a frustrated sound as he weaved his fingers into
the back of my hair. "You're sending me back to the house,
aren't you?"
I nodded, hearing Cass's motorcycle rumble closer by
the second.
"I can stay," Lucas tried to tell me, a frown creasing his
brow. "Maybe I could be useful, somehow."
Instead of answering him—because the answer was a
firm hell no—I kissed him again. He knew what I was doing,
but kissed me back hard, his fingers in my hair holding me
tight as he devoured my mouth. I lost myself in his kiss for
a moment, my body arching into his. Then I reluctantly
peeled myself free and shot a guilty look at Cass—who'd
just pulled up beside us on his bike.
"You got a death wish or something, Wilder?" Cass
growled, glaring pure death at Lucas.
"Quit it," I snapped before that confrontation could
escalate. "Cass, I need you to take Lucas home to Zed's
place."
The big biker shifted his gaze to me, his scarred brow
rising slightly. "What's going on, Red?"
"That's what I'm about to find out," I told him with a
grim expression. "Here, take Zed's car." I held the keys out
to him, figuring he probably didn't want to cozy up to Lucas
on the back of his bike. "Just... make sure Lucas gets back
to Zed's safely. He's still an easy target for Chase."
Cass wrapped his hand around my wrist rather than
taking the keys from my fingers. With a sharp tug he pulled
me close and planted his lips against mine in a clearly
possessive move.
I kissed him back a moment because I craved his kisses
like a drug. Then I pushed free of his grip and clicked my
tongue in warning.
"If you two are both quite finished pissing on me like a
tree, I have someone waiting to be tortured in the
basement." I levelled a warning glare at the both of them.
"Stay alive. Both of you. Or you'll have me to answer to."
Leaving them to hopefully not kill each other, I strutted
my ass back inside the fun zone and headed for the cold
room.
Several more of my more trusted Timberwolves were
posted along the corridor, no doubt tasked with stopping
my Copper Wolf bartenders and waitresses from
accidentally stumbling into what was quite definitely
Timberwolf business. Some days the two facets of my
business blended so smoothly, while others the lines were
clearly drawn.
Fang hauled the heavy refrigerator door open for me as
I approached, and I gave him a tight smile of appreciation.
I was glad to know all the faces I'd just passed had been
cleared in Alexi's investigation. It would have pissed me
right off had my judgment been off on any of those men.
"Gumdrop safely on his way home?" Zed taunted as I
stepped up beside him. The man who’d thought he could
lay hands on Gigi was now bound to a metal chair in the
middle of the walk-in fridge, the ropes holding his arms and
legs tied in a decidedly decorative pattern. Either Zed was
showing off or I'd taken longer handing Lucas to Cass than
I realized.
"You're acting like a jealous girlfriend, Zayden," I
muttered with an eyeroll. "Maybe you just need to get laid.
I'm sure Zoe would make time for you when we're done
here."
Zed scowled. "Chloe. And I stopped seeing her weeks
ago when she asked if I would meet her parents."
I snickered. "Well, whatever. You've got enough random
pussy in your contact list; I'm sure you can sort it out."
That comment seemed to piss him off more, and he
folded his arms with a huff that created steam in the cold
air. A deep shiver ran through me, like my body had just
remembered we were standing in a cool room, and I
rubbed my upper arms.
"Fucking hell. Let's get on with this." I eyed up our
victim and grimaced at my lack of equipment. My metal
woven gloves had been in my apartment when it went up,
which was just fucking great.
"Here," Zed muttered, handing me a set of brass
knuckles from his pocket. I arched a wide smile at him, and
he rolled his eyes. "You've looked like you were itching for
a fight all damn day. Have at him." He nodded to the hairy
man tied to the chair. He was still gagged, but neither one
of us was bothered by that fact. They never talked on the
first hit anyway.
Threading my fingers through the metal loops, I gave a
soft laugh. "You know me so well, Zed." I took a step closer
to the bound and gagged man and swung a vicious punch
that made a sickening crunch and sent blood arcing across
the cold room.
"Better than anyone, Dare," Zed muttered behind me.
Then he stood back and watched intently as I indulged in
my own form of therapy and shook some information free
at the same time.
Disappointingly, it was only a few minutes before the
hairy-shouldered wannabe gangster was screaming muffled
pleas behind his gag. Zed tugged the gag away, letting the
creep talk, and boy, did he feel chatty.
To our disappointment, though, he knew very little of
importance. He'd been recruited after he was picked up for
assault and battery against his ex-wife, then released by a
dirty cop. A man whose description I didn't recognize was
the one who'd given him the tattoo and assigned him this
task.
When Zed and I were satisfied we'd extracted
everything of use from the piece-of-shit woman basher, Zed
put a bullet through his skull.
"Thanks," I muttered, wiping thick blood-goo from my
chest. "Couldn't have waited until I’d moved a little further
away?"
Zed's lips twitched like he was trying not to laugh at me.
"You've got a little something here, boss." He indicated to
his forehead, and I swiped a hand over my own. It came
away wet with blood, but given how thoroughly I'd beaten
the shit out of that guy before he’d died, it was no great
shock.
Shooting Zed a glare, I stepped over the mess we'd
made and pushed the cold-room door open.
Fang was still waiting outside, and his brows shot right
up when he saw me. Zed must not have been bullshitting,
because Fang's eyes went to my forehead straightaway. I
bet I had a chunk of skull or something stuck in my hair.
"Uh, boss, we didn't want to interrupt earlier," Fang
said, stepping aside to let Zed and I pass. "But Cass from
the Reapers sent one of his men over. Dropped this off for
you." He indicated to a nondescript duffel bag against the
wall. It looked largely empty, so I gave Fang a confused
look. "Dunno, boss. We told him he couldn't be here and
shit, but he said Cass ordered him to deliver that."
Zed swiped the bag up and tugged the zipper open
before giving a short laugh. "What a smooth motherfucker,"
he muttered, handing the bag to me.
Inside was a clean set of clothes and a thick packet of
wet wipes. Smooth motherfucker indeed, that was one way
to show he was thinking of me.
Cassiel Saint was really living up to the promises in his
love letter.

OceanofPDF.com
20

A s thoughtful as Cass's care package had been, the


wet wipes weren't totally necessary. Zed and I
headed through to the dancers’ changing rooms and
borrowed the showers there to rinse off the worst of the
blood. The change of clothes was appreciated, though, and
I threw my silk blouse straight in the trash.
"Oh my god," Zed groaned when I emerged from the
changing room squeaky clean. My hair was wet—there had
been no avoiding washing it—and my makeup gone, and I
was wearing activewear—skin-tight yoga pants and a
cropped sweatshirt that showed off my toned stomach.
"What?" I demanded, slinging the bag, now containing
my bloody skirt and heels, over my shoulder.
He just arched a brow and shook his head. "Nothing.
Let's get out of here before our staff see you looking like a
real human being."
We took the service corridors to get out to the staff
parking lot, and Zed opened the passenger door to his
Ferrari for me.
"I should probably drive Cass's bike back for him," I
commented, but Zed prodded me to get into his car
instead.
"He probably got his guys to pick it up earlier," Zed said
with a shrug, climbing into his own seat. "Besides, I like
driving you."
I snorted a laugh. "Driving me crazy, more like. You
ready to talk to me about that temper tantrum yesterday?"
His hands tightened on the steering wheel under the
leather creaked. "Nope."
"Cool. Good chat, Zed."
I'd been joking, but apparently he wasn't. He didn't say
another word for the whole drive home, and I was too busy
muttering insults at him in my head to attempt any change
of topic. Anyone who wanted to come at me for being
childish could kiss my ass. Everyone did it, no matter how
old they were.
By the time we’d parked in Zed's garage, I was in a
shitty mood myself. I slammed Zed's car door way harder
than necessary and bit back a smirk at the angry sound it
extracted from him in response.
The sounds of conversation echoed through the halls
toward us, making me pause midstep. When it sounded like
someone laughed, I gave Zed a puzzled frown. He just
shrugged in return and nodded for me to precede him
toward the kitchen as he pulled his gun out.
Suspicious fuck. Not that I was arguing; something felt
seriously off.
As we approached the voices got louder until I
recognized them. Then I needed to second-guess my own
hearing because I could have sworn I just heard Cass laugh
at something Lucas had said.
What in the—
"Babe!" Lucas was the first to see me as I entered the
kitchen with Zed on my heels.
Cass looked over at me with a lazy smile on his lips and
a half-smoked joint between his fingers. Ah. That explained
that.
Zed put his gun away, brushed past me, and turned
around to mouth babe in the most infuriatingly
condescending way known to man. Prick. I flipped him off,
then headed over to the dining table where Cass and Lucas
had apparently been playing with knives.
"What... is going on?" I asked them both, eyeing the
seven-inch hunting blade currently sticking out of Zed's
wooden tabletop. A deck of cards sat off to the side in a
messy pile, and a couple of half-drunk beers completed the
scene.
"You're buying me a new table, asshole," Zed snapped,
glaring at Cass as he pulled out a chair and sat down.
"Just killing time until you got back," Lucas told me with
a grin, accepting the joint from Cass and taking a drag.
Based on his droopy eyelids, I'd guess it wasn't their first.
Cass sat back in his chair, slouching in that sexy, tall-
man kind of way as he blatantly eye fucked me. "Everything
okay at Anarchy?"
"None of your fucking business," Zed grunted,
answering for me. Cass levelled a threatening glare at my
best friend, and Zed met it stubbornly.
Mother-shitting tit balls. That drama needed to be
nipped, and I was having a hard time seeing any better
moment than the present.
Pulling out a chair, I sat down and plucked the remains
of the joint from Lucas's fingers. I took one long drag,
finishing it, then dropped the butt into one of the mostly
empty beer bottles.
"Alright," I announced. "Let's clear the air before our
secrets and miscommunications lead to one of us being
kidnapped, tortured, or possibly killed. Shall we?"
Lucas coughed a small laugh. "Yep, that seems like a
sound plan, babe."
I wrinkled my nose. "Sorry. I meant again. I can't even
remember who knows what at this stage, so I'm just going
to... lay it all out there and make sure we're all on the same
page."
Zed gave a sound of protest, shaking his head. "Dare,
they're not—"
"I know," I snapped, shooting him a vicious glance. "I
know. They're not even Timberwolves. Hell, Cass is the
Reaper, for fuck’s sake. But sue me, I like them both. So
whether you agree or not, they're involved in this."
Zed wasn't backing down so easily, though, his eyes
flashing with stubborn defiance and his chin lifting in a way
that said he was ready to fight me over this decision. He'd
have lost. So it was a damn good thing the gate buzzer
sounded and broke our staring contest.
"Who the fuck is that?" Zed demanded, swinging an
accusing glare at Lucas.
He raised his hands defensively. "Don't look at me."
Cass just shrugged and sipped his beer. "I was hungry.
Figured you might be too." He eyed me carefully as he said
that, like he was trying to see inside my mind.
Zed grumbled shit about his privacy and security but
went to answer the gate buzzer anyway. As usual, he
waited with his gun ready for the delivery driver to drop
the food at the front step. Only once the driver was gone
did he step out and collect the bags.
Paranoid? Sure. But better safe than sorry.
"Where the fuck did you even order from?" Zed
demanded, carrying the food back through to us in the
kitchen. "This isn't one of our restaurants."
By our, he meant a Timberwolf establishment. We had
slowly bought up all our favorite eateries in the area so that
we knew—or had more confidence—that we wouldn't get
poisoned ordering take-out. And I didn't mean that as a
euphemism; there had been an incident in the past where a
gang leader was assassinated through arsenic in his
Chinese food.
So Zed and I tended to stick with places we knew and
controlled.
"It's safe." Cass... man of many words.
Zed arched a challenging brow. "Says who? You? For all
we know, you deliberately ordered a special meal to take
out the competition."
Cass scoffed a husky laugh—damn that was a sexy sound
—and shook his head in disbelief. "If I wanted you dead, De
Rosa, you'd—"
"Stop it!" I snapped, slamming my hand down on the
table. "I've had enough. Sit down, shut up, and don't
fucking speak unless you're spoken to."
With fire in my eyes, I glared all three of them into
submission—not that Lucas needed it—then stood up and
dragged the bags of food closer to inspect.
I recognized the logo on the napkins as I pulled out
cardboard boxes of food and gave a small smile. "I didn't
know Nadia's delivered."
Nadia's Cakes was an awesome coffee and cake shop in
Reaper territory, but she also did awesome meals and
burgers.
"They don't," Cass replied. "I just thought you might
want some real food when you got back, rather than frozen
dinners or whatever the fuck Zed has in his kitchen."
I bit back the urge to laugh, and Zed was clearly having
a hard time not reacting to that dig.
"Quit it," I scolded Cass. "Zed's a fucking fantastic cook,
and you damn well know it. This smells amazing, though.
Thank you."
I pretended to ignore the antagonistic looks passing
between Cass and Zed because, for fuck’s sake, they
weren't teenagers. Hell, the only teenager in the room was
acting the most emotionally adjusted out of the lot of us.
After opening all the boxes of food to display a range of
mouthwatering steaks, chicken wings, fries, and various
other sides, I went to the kitchen to retrieve plates and
cutlery. Lucas—shocker—got up to help me, and when I
murmured my thanks, he informed me that his mother had
raised him with manners.
At that comment both Cass and Zed turned their glares
on Lucas, and I couldn't fight my snort of amusement.
"Okay, calm down," I told them, rolling my eyes. "Eat
your food before it gets cold. I'll talk and you three can just
listen."
No one argued with that, but Zed did keep glaring in my
direction like he wanted me to kick Lucas and Cass out and
keep our problems private. Too bad. Things had already
escalated past that point. Way, way past that point.
"Alright." I drew a deep breath then released it in a long
sigh. "Where do I even begin on this?" It was rhetorical, a
filler phrase while I tried to gather my thoughts.
But Cass answered me anyway. "Start with Chase
Lockhart. Start at the beginning. How'd you two meet?"
My gaze flicked up instantly, locking with Zed's pained
eyes across the table. Cass didn't realize it, but he'd struck
right on the turning point in my life. So yeah, what better
place to start explaining than my fucked up history with
Chase Lockhart?
A grim smile curved my lips as I held Zed's sad gaze. "In
hindsight, I should have seen this whole violent mess
coming," I said with a small laugh. "I met Chase—and Zed—
when they tried to kill me."
Zed's face softened with nostalgia, and I grinned at the
stunned expressions on Cass’s and Lucas's faces.
"In fairness," Zed added, rubbing his palm across the
stubble on his cheek, "I was just along for the ride."
I rolled my eyes but couldn't fight the smile on my face.
"Yeah, whatever. Anyway, knowing what I know now, that
was a really big red flag for how things would turn out with
Chase." I grimaced and combed my fingers through my
damp hair. "I was ten. After that, my father decided to send
me to Phillip D'Ath's training camp so I wouldn't ever be an
easy target for his enemies again."
Zed gave a grim smile, taking over my story. "Little did
Garrett Timber realize Chase and I were enrolled in the
same season. Because we'd failed to execute the Timber
princess, our families had lost faith in our potential to lead
the next generation of criminal syndicates." He pushed his
half-eaten plate away and went to the kitchen to grab a
beer.
I rubbed a hand over the back of my neck, remembering.
“Chase and I bonded over our mutual interest in learning
how to kill a man seventeen ways without a weapon.”
"Seventeen ways with just your hands?" Lucas asked, an
amused smile playing across his full lips.
Shit. He was so stoned. Maybe this wasn't the best time
to have this discussion after all.
"I'm gonna fast-forward this," I decided out loud, "and
just hit the key points for now. We can go into details
another day."
Cass jerked a nod of understanding, but I could see a
million questions buzzing behind his eyes.
"Chase Lockhart," I explained for Lucas's benefit, "was
the oldest son, the heir, to the Lockhart fortune. They were
known on paper as an old-money family who’d made their
fortune in the stock market. In reality they ran drugs and
dabbled in human trafficking."
Lucas's brows rose in surprise, but he didn't interrupt. I
appreciated that.
"He and I started dating when we were really young—
too young to have any fucking clue what we were doing." I
heaved another sigh, bitter at my own past self.
Zed placed a beer down in front of me, then touched his
leg to mine under the table. "You were," he corrected.
"Chase wasn't. He knew, he just didn't care."
I hummed a sound that was neither agreement nor
disagreement. Sad fact of matter was that by the time I’d
worked it all out, it was far too late. Kill or be killed, and
we all knew which option I'd taken to escape.
My lips parted to explain more of my relationship with
Chase, how he'd made me fall in love with him, how I'd let
our fathers push us into an engagement right before my
fifteenth birthday, how Chase had slowly morphed into a
goddamn fucking monster thanks to his free and easy
access to drugs. But no words would leave my tongue. They
just froze there, trained to stay silent from years of denial
and suppression.
Eventually I closed my eyes and took a moment to
regroup. A warm hand crept into my lap, linking fingers
with my fingers and giving a reassuring squeeze. Lucas.
Letting my lids open once more, I gave him a small
smile, then skipped straight ahead in my story to the part I
knew I could tell. The part that I'd well and truly hardened
my heart over.
"I did something stupid when I was eighteen," I told
them, swallowing heavily against the rising tide of emotion.
"I fucked up, and as a result Seph almost paid the price.
Our father listed her for sale on a darknet site that dealt in
what they considered top tier human auctions. Through
some investigation, I discovered that this wasn't the first
time my father had dealt in stolen girls. He and the
Lockhart family had been smuggling countless children into
the country for years. But the part that flipped my switch
was when I discovered it'd been Chase, my fucking fiancé,
who had given Garrett—or Fang as he liked to be called—
the idea to sell Seph to remind Darling who really holds the
power."
A deep shudder ran through me as I heard Chase's voice
so damn clear in my mind. Apparently, I wasn't as closed off
to those memories as I'd thought.
After a long pause, Cass cleared his throat and leaned
forward on his forearms. "So you killed them all." It wasn't
a question, because he'd been deep enough into the
Reapers by then that he would’ve seen the aftermath with
his own eyes.
Refusing to feel guilt over what I'd done, I raised my
chin and met his eyes. "I did. With some help. I personally
shoved a knife in my father’s back during a Timberwolf
monthly meeting, then slit his throat. Chase wasn't there,
though. Somehow, he'd found out what I had planned, and
none of the Lockharts were at the meeting like they were
supposed to be."
Lucas's hand still gripped mine, but I couldn't bring
myself to look at him as I spoke. I couldn't handle seeing
fear in his eyes as he heard about my pivotal moment in
becoming Hades. It was much easier to speak directly to
Cass, who stared back at me with a totally unreadable
expression. What he really thought of my actions... it was a
mystery. I was fine with that, for now.
"So, I left my backup to execute the Timberwolf
massacre, then Zed and I went hunting. We caught up to
Chase in the Lockhart manor. He was packing his shit,
cleaning out the family safe, and there was a helicopter
waiting for him on the lawn, ready to whisk him away to
safety. He wasn't even taking the rest of his family with
him, just looking after himself. As usual." Bitterness burned
through my veins like acid, and I shook my head to clear
the vivid, blood-soaked memories from my mind.
It was no use, though. Over and over I saw myself
shooting Chase's father in the face after I kicked the door
in. I saw the arc of blood splattering the white marble tiles
as I yanked my dagger from Eleanor Lockhart's throat after
she tried to attack me from behind. I heard the screams of
terror and the pleas for mercy that fell on my deaf ears. I
smelled raw, hot flesh and the acidic tang of
disembowelment.
"Long story short," Zed took over for me, his leg pressed
firmly against mine and his gaze intense on my face,
"Chase put up a hell of a fight, but ultimately we won. Dare
put a bullet straight in his face, then dragged me out of the
house while calling for help."
"What had happened to you?" Lucas asked in a quiet,
husky voice. This story was definitely taking the edge off
his buzz.
Zed leaned back in his chair and lifted his shirt up to
display his toned chest. Carefully, one by one, he ran his
fingertip over the thirteen individual scars, each an inch
long and all hidden by his tattoos.
"That bastard stabbed me half to death," he told Lucas
before tugging his shirt back down. His eyes returned to
mine, and I no longer had a voice to say all the things I'd
always wanted to say about that night.
Silence fell around the table for a tense moment, then
Cass scraped his chair back from the table and ambled into
the kitchen. He returned a moment later with a bottle of
Scotch and four glasses. Wordlessly he poured a heavy
splash into each, then handed them out to us.
"I understand the Lockhart manor exploded that night,"
the big guy rumbled, still totally expressionless. "Gas leak."
I jerked a nod, swallowing half my glass in one mouthful.
"The gas line was damaged in our fight," Zed elaborated.
"We had no idea."
Another gulp of Scotch and I started getting more of a
grip on my spiraling emotions. "And now Chase is
apparently back," I told them in a hollow voice. "Zed and I
didn't believe it, so we dug up his grave last week."
Lucas choked on his drink.
Cass's brows rose in surprise. "And?"
I shrugged. "And it was empty."
He ruffled a hand over his semi-mohawked hair. "Doesn't
mean he's alive."
"Also doesn't mean he's not alive," I countered, reaching
for the bottle of Scotch. "The evidence keeps stacking up.
The personal notes, blowing up 7th Circle with a gas leak,
kidnapping Lucas... There's no way it can be anyone else."
Cass grimaced. "It seems that way, but maybe that's
deliberate."
"Does it matter?" Lucas asked, jerking my attention over
to him. His fingers were still twined together with mine
under the table, and it didn't seem like he wanted to let go
any time soon. So... that was something.
"How fucking stoned are you?" Zed asked, an edge of
anger to his voice. "Of course it matters. Or did you forget
how you got taken, tortured, and almost killed less than a
week ago?"
Lucas flinched at Zed's harsh tone, and anger flared up
hot inside me. "Zed, cut it out."
"Believe me, Zed," Lucas snapped back, clearly having
had enough of his bullshit, "that's not something I'm going
to forget in a hurry. But does it actually matter whether this
is Chase himself or someone else acting out a vengeance
plot in his name? The end result is the same, right? We're
going to hunt this sick fuck down and make him pay. Aren't
we?"
The raw determination in his tone made my jaw drop,
and I stared at Lucas in shock. That... hadn't been how I’d
thought he'd react.
Zed snorted a laugh, shaking his head and rubbing a
hand over his chest like his old scars were aching. "Yeah,
Gumdrop. That's exactly what we're gonna do. Make that
fucker pay."

OceanofPDF.com
21

U nsurprisingly, my sleep was fraught with


nightmares of the past. I'd wanted to be alone
after spilling all those memories for Cass and Lucas, but
after the fourth time I woke with my heart racing and my
skin coated in cold sweat, I admitted defeat.
Silently, without turning any lights on, I made my way
down the hall from the guest room I'd claimed and visited
the bathroom. Not even ice-cold water on my face helped
me stop trembling, though.
With a quiet groan of frustration, I made my way
downstairs. It was only a few hours before dawn; I may as
well just wake up properly and hit the gym. All the sex in
the world wasn't going to keep me in shape if I kept
skipping training like I had been in the last few weeks.
To my surprise, the living room was lit by the flickering
blue light of the TV, and I found Zed sprawled out on the
couch in front of it. He looked up from where his head was
propped on the arm of the sofa when I approached, his eyes
just as haunted as I felt.
"Hey," he murmured, reaching out a hand in invitation.
I took it and climbed onto the sofa with him, snuggling
into his warmth and letting him draw a blanket over both of
us.
"What are we watching?" I asked, using his bicep as a
pillow. The brunette actress on the screen looked familiar,
but my sleep-deprived brain couldn't quite place her. With
my luck, I'd probably just walked in on Zed watching porn
or something.
He wrapped his other arm around my waist, pulling me
closer into his body. "High School Musical," he mumbled,
then yawned.
For a second I thought he was joking, then the
characters on screen started singing and dancing in the
middle of a basketball court, and I snickered a laugh.
"Shh," Zed told me, "I love this part."
I didn't need to make fun of him out loud; he knew I was
doing it inside my head. So I just relaxed into his hold and
watched the ridiculous G-rated movie about singing and
dancing high school basketballers.
Zed was onto something, though. I drifted into sleep
easily there on the couch with him, and only woke slightly
when the movie ended and he switched the TV off.
"Go back to sleep," he whispered when I yawned. His
arm returned to my waist, hugging me tight as his face
rested against my neck. Maybe it was my groggy, sleep-
hazed imagination, but his lips brushed my skin in a kiss
that seemed unusually intimate.
I didn't question it, though. I just leaned into his
embrace and let the fog of exhaustion pull me under once
more as Zed whispered more words that I couldn't make
out.

I n the light of morning , things almost seemed better. I'd


woken up still wrapped in Zed's arms on the couch, and
he'd dropped all the bitchy attitude of the past few days.
He got up with a yawn and stretch, then dropped a quick
kiss on my hair before announcing he'd cook breakfast.
Maybe he just needed a chill session with good weed
and shitty kids’ movies to level out his bad temper every
now and then. I'd remember that.
Somehow, I was totally unsurprised when Cass rolled up
on his motorcycle as Zed was sliding a plate of bacon and
eggs under my still half-asleep nose.
Zed didn't comment, just buzzed Cass in and served up
another plate of breakfast for the big grump. Now it made
sense why he'd cooked up an entire tray of eggs.
"Morning, Grumpy Cat," I teased when Cass entered the
kitchen.
He shot me an amused look, sliding his jacket off his
arms and dropping it over the back of a chair like he
fucking lived here. "Morning, Red," he replied, then
swooped down to kiss me. His fingers slid into the back of
my messy hair, gripping my head tight in a silent reminder
of how rough he was in the bedroom. And how much I
loved it.
Zed cleared his throat deliberately, reminding us we
weren't alone, but Cass was in no hurry to let me go. Hell, I
could almost feel the amusement rolling from him as he
continued to kiss me senseless for another few seconds
before letting go. It gave me a small stab of guilt to kiss
Cass like that when Zed had displayed concerns about this
new relationship, but part of me wanted to push him. Force
him to either speak up or shut up.
"De Rosa," Cass said with a husky voice, swiping his
thumb over his glistening lower lip. "Sorry man, didn't see
you there."
Zed's glare said exactly how much he believed that
bullshit. "And here I was about to give you breakfast.
Probably just changed my mind."
Cass slid into a seat and reached for the plate of bacon
and eggs. "Don't be a sore loser, Zed."
Whatever the fuck that was supposed to mean. I gave
Cass a hard glare, but he didn't react, just took a forkful of
his eggs.
Zed didn't lose his shit like he would have yesterday,
though. He just snickered a conspiratorial laugh and shook
his head. "Can't lose when you're still in the race, Saint."
An uncomfortable feeling crept through me, and I
narrowed my eyes in suspicion. "I don't know what the fuck
you two are talking about"—or I damn well hoped I didn't
—"but it's too early for bullshit. So cut it the fuck out."
Zed poured a mug of coffee and held it out to me with a
smirk. "Yes, sir." The mocking tone was there, as it always
was, and his fingers seemed to linger longer than necessary
against mine when I took the mug. Weirdo. No doubt he
was playing territorial games with Cass, because it amused
him to rile up the older gang leader.
"Where's Gumdrop this morning?" Cass asked between
bites of breakfast.
I settled in with my own food, tasting the parmesan and
chives Zed had mixed into his scrambled egg. So damn
good. "Still sleeping," I told him. "And don't you fucking
start with the Gumdrop shit too. His name is Lucas. Get
used to it; he's not going anywhere in a hurry."
Cass quirked a micro-smile in my direction. "He's a
Gumdrop, Red. Get used to it."
I sent my death glare in Zed's direction, seeing as he
was responsible for that name, and he just grinned back at
me while sipping coffee.
"What are you doing here anyway, Saint?" Zed asked,
changing the subject. "Don't you have your own gang to
run? Or is your new second suddenly so competent you can
retire already?"
Cass pushed his empty plate away and slouched in his
chair, so fucking comfortable. "I'm here because I woke up
alone in my bed with a raging hard-on and an undeniable
need to see my woman."
I choked on my food. Just a little. A couple of coughs and
a sip of coffee sorted me right out, but that hadn't been
what I'd expected Cass to answer. Neither had Zed,
apparently, because the look he leveled at Cass was pure
violence.
"As for Roach," he continued, "not yet. And if retirement
was a thing Reapers could do, believe me, I'd have done it
already."
His irritated tone sparked curiosity in me, and I tilted
my head to the side as I peered at him. "Why are you in the
Reapers, Cass? Some things never quite added up to me,
like why the fuck you were content to serve as second to
that shitbag Zane D'Ath for so long when he was so clearly
incompetent."
Cass held my gaze as he took a sip from the coffee Zed
had just poured for him. "That seems a lot like insider
trading, Hades, blurring the lines between entities and all
that."
I rolled my eyes. "Screw off. I own the Reapers, and you
damn well know it."
Lucas shuffled into the kitchen then, looking all sexy and
sleep-rumpled in a pair of sweatpants and nothing else.
Goddamn, he was a vision, even with the bandages still
stuck to his chest and bruises coloring his entire ribcage.
"Jesus, Gumdrop," Zed cringed, "that hurts to even look
at. Did you put up a fight at all?"
Lucas scowled, helping himself to a coffee mug and
filling it up from the fresh pot. "Unlike some people, I never
went to a top-secret training camp for killers and other
criminals."
My brows shot up at the angry tone of his voice, and I
exchanged a quick warning glance with Zed before sliding
out of my chair. "Hey, Zed was just teasing." I crossed to
where he stood against the cabinets and looped my arms
around his waist. The ease of that simple gesture made my
pulse race, and confusion washed though me at how
comfortable I'd grown around Lucas.
Lucas didn't notice my weirdness, though. He just
heaved a sigh and rubbed the back of his neck in a gesture
that was way too sexy to be real.
"I know," he muttered, his lips slanting in a slight pout.
"I'm just in a bad mood. Hearing those bits of your history
last night, all the shit you and Zed went through... it's made
me fully appreciate why Zed called me a liability."
I shot Zed an accusing glare, and he just shrugged,
unapologetic. That only pissed me off, and I glowered.
"Yeah well, tough shit," I snapped. "We can't change the
past, but we're also not throwing you away. We're more
than capable of keeping you safe."
Lucas grimaced. "You shouldn't have to."
"I shouldn't have to do a whole list of shit right now,
Lucas, but none of them are your fault." I rose up on my
toes and combed my fingers through his soft hair. "I'm
sorry you got dragged into it, though."
He let out a long breath, shaking his head. "I'm not." He
leaned down to kiss me but paused when Zed interrupted.
"I cooked breakfast, Gumdrop. Eat some food, then let's
start dealing with your abysmal lack of fight training." Zed
arched a brow at me as I let Lucas go so he could sit and
eat. "We may not be able to change the past, Dare, but we
can better equip him for the future."
I folded my arms and frowned. "Look at him." I indicated
with my chin to the mess of bruises and dressings
decorating Lucas's body. "We're not teaching him how to
fight in that state."
Zed, the shithead, just gave me a challenging look. "Why
not? You've trained in worse shape, and it didn't kill you."
Both Lucas and Cass gave me long looks at that
comment, and I seethed. He'd put me in an impossible
situation there, and he damn well knew it.
"Fine," I hissed. "But when his doctor wants to blame
someone for split stitches, I'll be sure to let him know that
Lucas's brother is responsible."
Zed just grinned his victory, and Lucas, damn him,
beamed twice as wide.
What was it with men enjoying hurting themselves?

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22

D espite the happy little dynamic on that first day of


Lucas's training in Zed's home gym, we all
eventually needed to get back to real life. Cass still
had the Reapers to run and a newly minted second to train.
Zed and I had the Timberwolves and Copper Wolf to deal
with, not to mention the insurance paperwork for both 7th
Circle and my apartment building.
Still, Zed made time in his day, every day, to train Lucas.
Considering how suspicious Zed’d been of him, it confused
the hell out of me… until I saw the shrewd way Zed
watched him when his back was turned. Then I
remembered what he'd told me about keeping his enemies
close.
Giving up on the latest stack of insurance reports I was
trying to fill out, I set them aside and pushed to my feet. I'd
been sitting in the corner of the gym in an armchair I'd
dragged in there a week ago to try and get work done while
overseeing Lucas's training, but now I was getting tired of
Zed pounding on Lucas.
"Alright. Give me a go," I told Zed, kicking my shoes off.
I'd gone into the Copper Wolf office this morning, so I was
in full corporate clothing, including pantyhose with a sexy
seam up the back.
Zed arched his brow at my outfit and gave an amused
shake of his head. "Dressed like that?"
I sent him a mocking smile. "What's wrong, Zayden?
Scared I'll flatten you without ruffling my blouse?"
Lucas let out a low whistle, then unstrapped his gloves
as he backed away from the mats he and Zed had been
gently sparring on. "Kick his ass, babe," he whispered,
smacking a kiss on my cheek.
Zed rolled his eyes but sauntered over to the shelves at
the side of the room to grab me a set of wraps. "I don't
need Cass coming at me for you splitting your knuckles,"
he said, tossing them over to me.
I grinned but made quick work of wrapping my hands up
in the fluorescent yellow fabric. Cass had often come by to
visit over the past week since our chat but seemed
distracted and quick-tempered every time. He also hadn't
tried to get in my pants again, and that was starting to
really piss me off.
"You guys aren't going to wear gloves?" Lucas asked
with a thread of concern.
Zed and I both grinned at that one, and I bounced on my
slippery silk-covered toes. Hand-to-hand combat while
wearing pantyhose on a vinyl mat was probably not at the
top of the list for smart things to do. But it made it more
fun. And if I'd given Zed time to strategize while I was
getting changed, he might not be so easy to beat.
"You ready, boss?" Zed teased, his wrapped hands raised
and his feet shifting into a boxer’s stance. He was shirtless
—something he seemed to be doing a lot lately—and
wearing just a pair of loose basketball shorts. He and Lucas
had been working out for almost two hours, so a light
sheen of sweat coated his hard muscles in a way that
almost seemed fake.
I gave a short laugh as I shifted my weight, scanning
him for weaknesses. Not that I needed to look to know; I
had all of Zed's old injuries and weak points mapped out in
my brain like they were my own. Trouble was, he knew all
of mine too.
"Bring it on," I replied, excitement and adrenaline
zapping through me. "I'll let you take the first swing." I shot
him a teasing wink, and he gave a short laugh as he shook
his head, relaxed.
That was my chance, and I snapped out a sharp left
hook, catching him clean across the cheek.
Lucas gave a shout of surprise from the sidelines,
possibly protesting the dirty trick. But Zed knew the score.
He just laughed and rubbed his face as he circled away
from me.
"Come on, that was an old trick," I mocked him with a
snicker. "Can't believe you just fell for that."
Zed shook his head like he could hardly believe he'd
fallen for it either. His eyes were sharper now, though, like
he'd just remembered exactly how dirty I liked to fight. Yep,
I was in for a real fight now.
I didn't even try to hide the grin of enjoyment on my lips
as we started trading blows for real. Neither one of us
pulled our punches—much—but we were both experienced
enough that we could dodge or deflect the majority of
strikes.
More of mine landed on Zed than the other way around,
but I could see he was eyeing me up for a takedown move.
Not today, Satan. No way was I losing this after
bragging that I could wipe the floor with him in my pencil
skirt and silk blouse.
I struck before he got the chance to, sweeping his legs
from under him, and heard my skirt rip all the way up the
side seam. Whoops. Still, there was no sense in wasting my
advantage over damage already done, so I followed through
by tangling Zed up in an arm bar that tested the limits of
how far his elbow would bend.
The stubborn fuck didn't tap out, though.
"Uh, Hayden, you're gonna break his arm," Lucas
informed me, watching with wide eyes and his hands on his
slim, toned hips.
I flashed a smile. "Nah, I won't break it. Zed just needs
to man up and accept he's been beaten."
Zed chuckled a breathless sound, turning in a way that
only intensified the angle of my arm bar. "Do I, though?" he
taunted. His free hand reached around and slid up the side
of my bare thigh. That in and of itself was almost enough to
make me loosen my grip, but I quickly realized he was just
playing dirty to unnerve me.
Prick.
Then his fingers hooked under one of the tight straps of
my garter belt and snapped that fucker against my thigh.
The shock of it made me yelp and jerk. My grip only
loosened for a split second, but it was enough for Zed to
wriggle free like some kind of overgrown python.
"God dammit," I groaned, rolling to my feet and stepping
back into fight stance.
Zed smirked, smug as fuck. "Told you not to fight in that
outfit."
We traded a few more blows, then the gate buzzer rang
and distracted Zed enough that my foot caught him straight
in the face.
"Dare!" he roared from the floor, his hand to his nose.
"I'm sorry!" I shouted back, swallowing my laughter. "I
thought you were going to dodge!"
"You two are insane," Lucas muttered, coming over to
offer Zed a hand up. "You’d better get some ice on that." He
winced as Zed took his hand away and revealed a bloody
nose.
The glare Zed sent in my direction was pure malice, and
I couldn't help laughing back at him.
"You're so fucking lucky you're you," he grumbled,
making his way out of the gym to answer the buzzer and,
probably, to ice his face.
Meanwhile, Lucas turned to face me with a certain level
of respect in his eyes. "I've never seen you fight before," he
commented, stepping closer and taking my hands in his to
unwrap the yellow fabric.
"These days I generally use bullets to deal with my
problems," I admitted with a small shrug, "but I'd be an
idiot to let my skills get rusty simply because I have other
people to do the dirty work for me. Complacency is what
gets people in my profession assassinated."
Lucas gave me a look that bordered on adoration and
dipped his head to kiss me lightly. "That's why you're
Hades," he murmured, "because you actually think these
things through. I'm all kinds of impressed."
"Oh yeah?" I replied, rising up to kiss him back. "How
impressed?"
His arms banded around my waist, pulling me against
his hard body as his lips answered my question. I groaned
into his kiss and hooked a leg up around his waist in a clear
invitation to pin me against the nearest flat surface and
fuck me stupid. But Zed’s and Cass's voices echoed down
the hallway, and I reluctantly peeled myself off Lucas. Not
that I was trying to hide anything, but Cass was still being
odd, and I needed to get to the bottom of that without
pissing him off first.
"You responsible for this?" Cass asked Lucas, jerking a
nod at Zed's face—or, rather, at the icepack he held to the
bridge of his nose.
Lucas grinned. "Nah, that was Hayden."
One of those sly, sexy smiles curved Cass's lips. "That
makes more sense."
"Screw you, Saint," Zed snarled. "I'd like to see you spar
with her. She'd have you begging for mercy in no time."
Cass's eyes met mine, flaring with a heat that went
straight to my pussy. Fuck me, I didn't need to be a mind
reader to see exactly what was going through his mind as
his gaze traveled down my body, taking in my ripped skirt
and ruffled hair. I doubted it would be Cass begging for
mercy if we were alone right now.
"On the topic of fighting," he said slowly, his eyes still
hot on my body while he ran a hand over his short beard, "I
heard Crusher got checked into rehab today."
My brows shot up, and Zed spat a curse. Crusher was
one of our headliners for a fight night at the end of the
month. It was one of the biggest events on Anarchy's books
to date, and the big top was completely sold out. If he was
in rehab...
"What for?" Zed asked, his brow creased with
frustration. "Is it something that just needs a quick detox or
—"
"Nothing so innocent," Cass cut him off with an irritated
grunt. "He's in for PCP addiction."
"What the fuck?" I shouted, losing my cool before I could
grab a hold of it.
It was a total frame job, though. One of the fighters in
the event my club had been promoting for months suddenly
has an addiction to angel dust? Of all the fucking drugs on
the market... Nope, I didn't believe it was a coincidence for
even a second.
"Why is this the first we're hearing of it?" I demanded,
spearing Cass with a hard look. "How did you find out
before we did?"
He quirked his scarred brow. "I've got people in the
right places, Red. And I came here with a proposition."
I folded my arms, still radiating suspicion regarding how
he was more in the know than my own team. Crusher not
being able to fight was a huge problem. "Go on then."
He folded his arms over his chest, mirroring my stance.
"Let me take Crusher's place in the fight."
Of all the propositions I could have imagined Cass
bringing forth, that definitely wasn't one of them—so much
so that I just stared at him in shock for a moment.
Then Zed coughed a laugh and clapped Cass on the
shoulder. "Good one, Saint. You had me going for a second
there."
I didn't see any trace of joking in Cass's expression,
though. My brows hitched, and I tilted my head to the side.
"You're serious?"
A small, arrogant sort of smile touched his lips, and he
gave a soft laugh. "I forget sometimes that you two are
relatively new to Shadow Grove, not to mention how young
you are." Zed made a sound of annoyance, but Cass ignored
him. "Trust me, Red, my name on the billing will more than
match the interest you had for Crusher. I'm doing you a
favor."
Lucas cleared his throat, pulling our attention. "Uh, he's
not joking, babe." His gaze shifted to Cass with admiration.
"Didn't you retire on an injury about eight years ago,
though?"
Cass gave a small shrug. "Officially. Then I went on to
train punk-ass Reaper kids like Kody and Archer." He gave
me a meaningful look, and the pieces started clicking
together in my brain. Eight years ago would have been
around the time he started getting groomed for his position
as Zane's second within the Reapers.
Now, Archer was one of the hottest UFC fighters in the
world and his best friend Kody was the founder of KJ-Fit, an
MMA training gym—but I'd sidelined them both on
babysitting duty with Seph.
Cass wouldn't be suggesting this if he wasn't more than
up to the fight, though. So I gave him a small nod. "You
sure you can beat Johnny Rock? It would be terrible PR if
the leader of the Reapers got his ass kicked by a twenty-
one-year-old shithead with anger management problems."
Cass scoffed. "That punk? Yeah, Red, I can handle him."
His confidence legitimately made my cunt wet. It was
surreal.
Neither Johnny Rock nor Crusher were pro; they fought
way too dirty to ever be considered for official
sponsorships. But goddamn they had huge followings. And
that meant money. Fight nights could clean so much dirty
money through betting and alcohol sales, it was almost
laughable.
"Alright, then." I turned my attention to Zed. "Set it up."
Zed gave me a skeptical look but shrugged. "Yes, sir."
My phone started ringing in the corner, so I left the guys
talking so I could answer it. When I saw the caller ID for
my new legal counsel on the display, my stomach sank.
Something told me she wasn't calling for a casual check in.
"Shit," I breathed, biting my lip as I slid my thumb over
the phone to answer. "Gen. What's happened?"
"Hades, sir," she responded in a clipped voice. "I just
heard back from the insurance company regarding 7th
Circle. They've denied your claim."
Motherfuckers. Seven million dollars invested in that
venue... up in smoke.

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23

T o my absolute frustration, Gen didn't have many


more details than that. She ended the call with
a promise to look further into it, and I very nearly threw my
phone across the fucking room.
Furious at the insurance company, and at Chase, I
ordered Zed and Cass to go to Anarchy and deal with the
fight night changes. Otherwise, I was likely to end up in a
blazing fight with one or both of them and end up stabbing
someone.
"What can I do to help?" Lucas asked when the guys
were gone.
I gave him a long look, my fist clenching and
unclenching at my side. It hit me suddenly how rare it was
for me to express my emotions around other people,
whether good or bad. Yet when I'd just been given that bad
news, it hadn't even crossed my mind to internalize my fury
and frustration. It'd just felt so natural to let it out, to let
these men see me and everything I was feeling.
Fuck. It shook me.
"Nothing," I said after a moment to take a calming
breath. "Nothing. Just... there's nothing I can do until I hear
back from Gen with the official report. I'm going to get
changed, then come work out down here for a while."
He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. "Want
company or..."
I started to shake my head, then paused and
reconsidered. It was about damn time I let Lucas in. He so
badly wanted to be the shoulder I leaned on when I was
stumbling; maybe I needed to let him.
"Sure," I replied with a brittle smile. "If you're not too
wrecked already, maybe I can teach you a few things that
Zed glossed over."
Lucas's face brightened. "I'd love that."
I ran upstairs to my borrowed bedroom, the guest room
I'd claimed as my own by unpacking all my new clothes and
personal items into it, and changed out of my ripped skirt.
It only took me a couple of minutes, and I ran back
downstairs with a renewed sense of determination. All
week, watching Zed teach Lucas how to throw a punch or a
kick or how to dodge and block, I'd been itching to give my
opinions.
Besides, any excuse to have Lucas all hot and sweaty
with his hands on my body sounded like a good idea in my
mind.
Back in the gym, Lucas sat on the end of a weight
bench, wrapping his hands up carefully like he'd been
taught. He looked up when I walked in, his full lips curling
in the sexiest of smiles.
"Goddamn, Hayden, how do you make work-out clothes
look so fucking sexy?" He stood up, and the outline of his
dick against his shorts echoed the primal look on his face.
My breath caught, and I licked my lips. "I changed my
mind. I know exactly how you can clear my mind."
Lucas gave a low, irresistibly sexy chuckle. "Uh-huh, I
bet you do." He stooped down and swept me up with a
strong hand under each side of my ass, crushing me
against him as his mouth found mine.
"Lucas," I groaned against his lips as he walked us over
to the wall. My back against the cool surface, his hot
erection ground against me teasingly as he kissed me
stupid. Literally. Sometimes I felt like I was losing IQ points
when I let my pussy take control... but then again, who
gave a fuck? Who the hell would say no in my shoes?
"Lucas, you shouldn't be lifting me like this," I chastised,
peeling my lips away from his only to move them to his
neck. I couldn't resist dragging my teeth over his tight
trapezoids, and he shivered against me with a curse.
"I'm fine, Hayden," he assured me in a husky voice, "I
promise. Almost completely healed up already."
I ran my hand over his chest where the Darling brand
sat red and raised but was healing incredibly quickly. His
stab wound now only had a thin strip of surgical tape
covering it too. The human body was fucking astounding.
"Still," I protested on a sigh. "I don't want to risk hurting
you." Pushing him away, I dropped my feet to the ground,
then nodded to my armchair that I'd abandoned earlier. "Go
sit down, and I'll ride your dick."
His eyes widened, and a grin spread over his face. "Yes,
ma'am."
He hurried to do as he was told, kicking his shorts aside
and sitting back in the chair like it was a damn throne, his
huge dick sticking straight up in the air like an invitation.
His hands were still wrapped, and his sneakers still on, but
I sure as hell wasn't nitpicking. I stripped off my leggings
and panties in one motion and placed a knee to either side
of his hips on the chair.
"Shit yeah," Lucas groaned as I lined him up with my
core and worked my way down onto him. "This is the kind
of workout I can get on board with."
I would have come back with something dazzlingly witty,
but my brain was in the process of short-circuiting and my
breath was already coming in short, sharp gasps.
Lucas gripped my hips, pulling me down deeper onto
him and making me cry out at the way he filled me up.
When my butt rested on his thighs, I shifted my grip on his
shoulders to clasp onto the back of his neck. I needed to
kiss him like I needed air, and he obliged without
hesitation.
When I started moving, I only rose and fell ever so
slightly, keeping most of Lucas's cock buried deep within
my tight cunt and relishing the ache there. I circled my
hips with each rock of my body, grinding on him and
moaning when my clit rubbed against him.
"Hayden," Lucas said with a pained chuckle, "are you
trying to torture me? Because this is seriously testing me
right now."
I grinned into the side of his neck, sucking and biting
the skin there, leaving my mark like a jealous teenager. "A
little anticipation is good for the soul, Lucas."
He laughed, then groaned again as his fingers flexed on
my hips. He wanted me to speed up; I could feel the way he
was just barely holding back from taking charge. It made
me all kinds of hot, though, knowing he was waiting for me
to set the pace.
Probably in an attempt to distract himself from my
maddening grind, he tugged my tank top over my head and
tossed it aside, then unzipped the front closure of my
sports bra and sucked in a sharp breath.
"Fuck, your tits are incredible," he whispered, palming
them with reverence.
I grinned wide, arching my back to give him better
access. In fairness, I was driving myself just as crazy by not
fucking him as hard as I wanted. Just as I shifted my
position, readying myself to ride him for real, a familiar
ringtone pealed through the room.
Lucas and I both froze.
"Shit, that's my phone," I said, unnecessarily. "It might
be Gen; I've got to take it." I started to scramble off Lucas's
dick, but he caught me with a hand around my waist,
holding me in place. I started to protest, but he just leaned
over the side of the chair and used one of his long arms to
reach my phone on the floor.
He handed it over to me where I sat, and I glanced at
the caller ID.
"Oh, it's just Zed." That was significantly less urgent. I
debated declining the call until we were done but then
hesitated, wondering if something else had blown up.
Literally.
"Trust me?" Lucas asked, meeting my eyes with a heavy
dose of sincerity and a small part mischief.
I gave the most honest answer I was capable of while his
dick was still fully encased in my pussy. "Within reason,
yes."
He flashed a smile. "Fair." He swiped my phone out of
my hand and slid his thumb over the answer button.
My eyes bugged out, but he clapped his hand over my
mouth, telling me with his eyes to be quiet as he took the
call and switched it to speaker. "Hey, Zed."
There was a pause on the other end, and I writhed
against Lucas's hold on my face—not to get free, but
because I was suddenly a thousand times more turned on
and I hadn't even known that was possible.
"Gumdrop," Zed replied, and I rocked my hips. "Where's
Dare? Why are you answering her fucking phone?"
"Uh, she's just a bit busy," Lucas replied with a smirk.
He carefully balanced the phone on the arm of the chair,
then pressed a finger gently to his lips. The message was
loud and clear. Stay. Silent.
I nodded, willing to play the game, and he removed his
hand from my mouth. It was only so he could grip my hips,
though, and encourage me to ride him like I'd been about
to do when the phone rang.
Oh fuck. He wanted me to fuck him while he was on the
phone with my best friend? That was... so hot. I mean,
totally messed up. But also... fuck me, I was soaking.
"What do you mean, busy?" Zed snapped. "What the fuck
is she busy doing?"
Lucas tipped his head back, his hips bucking up to meet
me as I bounced lightly on his cock. Holy hell, there was no
way I could come silently. And there was also no way I was
lasting longer than a few minutes.
"She's working out," Lucas told Zed, somehow keeping
his voice totally neutral as I flexed my legs harder, fucking
him faster. "What's up? Did something happen?"
He dropped one of my hips and slipped that hand down
my front to find my clit as I rode him. Because apparently
Lucas woke up this morning and chose evil.
Zed grunted a sound on the phone. "Figures. That
sounds like she's hitting the punching bag. Just stay out of
her warpath until she calms down."
Oh god. I almost laughed. Almost. But Lucas pinched my
clit, and I needed to clap a hand over my own mouth to stop
myself from screaming.
"Ah, I reckon she'll be okay," Lucas told Zed. "Just
needed to work off a bit of steam." He shot me a wink, and
I couldn't decide if I wanted to punch him or kiss him.
It sounded like Zed had sighed on the phone, and I was
about to detonate. My orgasm was so fucking close. So
close.
"Well, if she's not likely to gut you for getting close, can
you hand the phone over? I need to discuss some legal
shit."
I froze. Lucas grinned.
Frantically, I shook my head at him, and he just
shrugged and picked up the phone once more.
"Sure thing," he said, and I just about died. There went
my orgasm. Poof. "Just give me a sec." He hit the mute
button on the call, made a point of showing me, then tossed
the phone onto the training mat.
"Lucas," I murmured, suspicious as fuck. "What are you
—"
In a move that surely only a gymnast could pull off, he
scooped me up off his lap and stood up, then sank
gracefully to his knees and lay me flat on my back on top of
the padded training mat.
"I didn't believe you could be quiet for this part," he
whispered back at me, his face pure mischief. Then he
hitched one of my legs up so my knee touched my shoulder
and slammed his monster cock back into me hard enough
to make me see stars.
He was goddamn right. He fucked me hard and fast,
nailing me into the mat and making me scream like a
fucking banshee when I came.
His own release was only a split second behind, his hot
cum filling me as I thrashed and moaned all over his dick
like a strung-out junkie.
I barely got a second to catch my breath, though, before
he picked the phone up and unmuted it with a challenge
written all over his sexy fucking face.
"Zed," I snapped, my voice rough from screaming and
my breathing still elevated. "What's up?"
"I've got some guys looking into our insurance provider
for 7th Circle," he informed me. "Just had a weird feeling
about them denying the claim."
Lucas eased out of me and collapsed onto the mat at my
side where he pressed gentle kisses to my sweaty skin.
"Okay," I replied, still breathless. "And?"
"And the underwriter for Allied Host Insurance was
bought out by a shell company six months ago." Zed's tone
was grim, and I sat up sharply.
"Bought out by who?" I demanded.
He gave an irritated click of his tongue. "Not sure yet.
I've asked Dallas to do some digging, though. Wanted to
check if that was okay with you, first."
I frowned, ruffling my fingers through my hair. "Yes, of
course. Let me know the second he finds something."
"You know I will. I'll let you get back to your workout,
but maybe don't go so hard. You're panting like an old
lady." He said it with a teasing laugh, and I groaned
inwardly.
"Bye, Zed," I growled, then ended the call. Then I shot
Lucas a sharp look. "You're in so much trouble, Wilder."
He grinned. "You gonna punish me, Hades?"
Fuck if that didn't make my pussy flood with warmth all
over again. I really was messed up.

OceanofPDF.com
24

L ucas had visited his mom almost every day since


he'd gotten out of the hospital, and at first I'd gone
with him in the hope that she'd tell me more about
her history with my parents. But it’d quickly became clear
that me being there stressed her out, so I started waiting
for Lucas in the Sunshine Estate rose garden.
Today, though, I was more on edge that usual. My foot
tapped an anxious rhythm on the gravel path as I spoke
with Gen on my phone. She'd handled everything with law
enforcement with regards to my apartment building, but
she wasn't optimistic about the outcome of my claims on
the cars. I'd used the same insurer for all my properties,
and the recent sale of the underwriter was starting to stink
like a dead rat.
The crunch of shoes on gravel made my eyes jerk up,
and I spotted Lucas making his way over to me.
"Gen, I need to go," I told her with an irritated sigh. "If
you need copies of invoices, get in touch with Hannah at
Copper Wolf. I'll authorize her access to the files now so
she can get you whatever you need."
"Understood, sir," Gen replied. "I'll be in touch."
I ended the call and tilted my head back to look up at
Lucas. "All okay? That was quicker than usual."
A frown creased his brow, but he gave a small nod.
"Yeah, fine. Let's go."
Things were quite clearly not fine, but I didn't argue
with him. I just stood up and wrapped my arm around his
waist as we walked back the parking lot and the Audi I was
still borrowing from Zed.
Once we were inside, I gave him a raised brow. "Want to
talk about it?"
For a moment, I thought he was going to decline. But
then he blew out a heavy breath and scrubbed his hands
over his face. "I'm just really confused," he admitted with a
groan of frustration. "I asked her today about why she left
Shadow Grove."
I glanced at him in surprise as I drove us back toward
Zed's house. I'd filled him—and Zed and Cass—in on what
Sandra Wildeboer had told me. But when I'd tried to talk to
Sandra again after that day, she'd played dumb with me.
"She got really angry at me for asking," Lucas
confessed. "Told me that she'd left to keep me safe and the
more I dug around in the past the more attention I'd bring."
That phrasing seemed curious, and I bit the edge of my
lip as I ran it through my mind. "That sounds like
something to do with you, specifically, and not the
Timberwolves," I commented, still thinking, "so maybe we
were being too closed-minded. Maybe her leaving here
when my mom died was just coincidental timing..."
Lucas drummed his fingertips on the door handle,
clearly irritated. "That's what I thought too. It would
explain why she moved us around so much. I always
thought it was because she couldn't keep a job and needed
the health insurance, but now I'm wondering if she was
running from someone."
"Or hiding you from someone," I offered in a soft voice.
"What do you know about your dad, Lucas?"
He gave a bitter laugh. "I asked her exactly the same
thing. Then she threw a coffee mug at the wall and started
yelling at me to get out."
My brows rose. "What do you think that meant?"
He shrugged. "Either something suspicious… or she was
just really offended that I basically suggested she'd lied
about my father all these years and he wasn't the
upstanding gentleman she’d told me he was." He gave me a
wry smile. "My mom does have a flare for the dramatic; I
don't put a whole lot of suspicion behind that reaction."
I didn't respond to that. My natural instinct was to be
suspicious of fucking everything, and the evidence was
stacking pretty heavily in favor of Lucas's daddy being
involved in something shady.
"I take it that wasn't good news from Gen when I
interrupted you?" Lucas asked, changing the subject. He'd
met my new lawyer earlier in the week when I stopped for
a meeting with her at Copper Wolf on our way home from
Sunshine Estate, and he seemed to genuinely like her.
I shook my head. "Nope." Then another thought popped
into my brain. "Hey, yesterday when Cass suggested
fighting in the event with Johnny Rock, you seemed to know
more about that than Zed or I."
Lucas grinned. "Um, yeah, because I clearly do know
more." He gave a teasing laugh when I shot him a glare.
"What? Let me have my moment of glory. It's not often I'm
the one with the information."
I rolled my eyes, but he had a point. "Fair call," I
muttered with a sigh. "So, tell me what you know. Please?"
I threw that polite addition on with an exaggerated flutter
of my lashes, and Lucas snickered.
"Cute. But I'm pretty sure Cass should be telling you
about himself, you know, himself? I will say that I'm not
against a bit of casual Google stalking when I want to know
more about someone, and Cass seemed like he was
important to you when we first met. So I did some
searching." He gave a small shrug. "It wasn't a thorough
background check or anything, just normal Googling."
I was a little impressed. "And you discovered he used to
be a fighter?"
Lucas nodded. "A really good fighter. Like, I've seen
some of Archer D'Ath's fights on TV, and Cass would
probably flatten him."
"Huh." I was a little speechless. I knew Cass could fight,
of course. But I didn't realize he was actually good.
Lucas grinned. "You should ask him about it some time. I
bet he'd like to tell you all about his glory days. Isn't that
what old dudes like to do?"
I groaned but couldn't fight my answering smile at his
teasing. "Say that to his face, Gumdrop, I fucking dare
you."
"Aw come on, not you too! Fucking worst nickname on
the planet." He pouted and slouched back in his seat as I
laughed silently.
"Actually, I think he's over at Anarchy training with Alexi
today," I commented, tapping the steering wheel with my
index finger. "Want to head over there?"
Lucas shifted in his seat, turning slightly so he was
looking at me while I drove. It was both unnerving and
flattering all at the same time. "Sure thing. Maybe you can
work out why Cass has been all cagey and secretive this
week."
I flicked him a quick look. "You noticed that too, huh?"
He inclined his head. "Hard not to. I mean, I'm more
than fine with having you all to myself, but I'm a bit more
realistic than that. I know you're not going to be happy
with just me... not when you're already so invested in them,
too."
I frowned, guilt rippling through me at his words.
Although he'd said he was fine with me and Cass, I hadn't
exactly asked before jumping into bed with another guy.
Did that make me a cheater? Fuck. I despised cheaters.
"Lucas..." I started to say, then trailed off because I
simply had no idea what the fuck to say. It wasn't that he
wasn't enough. It was just... Cass had a very particular hold
on my heart that I was tired of ignoring.
"Hey." He reached over and linked our fingers together
like he always seemed to do when I needed the emotional
support. "I didn't mean anything by that comment. Please
stop frowning like that. It was just a statement of fact, not a
guilt trip, okay? I'm good with this, with the way we are.
But I hate that Cass is being a secretive shit, and I can see
it's getting under your skin."
I gave a soft laugh at that because he was dead right.
"So," Lucas continued, lifting my hand to his mouth and
kissing my knuckles. "Let's go to Anarchy, and best case,
you get some answers out of the big grump. Worst case..."
He trailed off with a sly smile.
I flicked him another suspicious glance. "Worst case
what?"
His eyes glittered with mischief. "Worst case, you get all
hot and bothered watching Cass beat the crap out of Alexi
in the training room, and I get to reap the rewards
afterward. It's a win-win if you ask me."
Well... when he put it like that, how could I argue?
I’d barely wiped the silly smile from my face by the time
we pulled into Anarchy, and Lucas managed to sneak a
quick make-out session in before we exited the car.
Walking into the training room, I was surprised to find
Cass fighting Zed, not Alexi. I was also uncomfortably
surprised at how fast my heart started pounding at the
sight of those two shirtless, inked-up, and sweaty, trading
punches like... well... like professionals.
Lucas gave a low chuckle, swiping a hand over his
mouth as if to hide his smug grin. "This ought to be
interesting," he murmured, shooting me a knowing look.
I glared back at him, refusing to pick up what he was
putting down. "Don't stir shit, Lucas. We're not fucking up a
good thing."
He didn't reply, just smirked and turned his attention to
the fighters locked in a sparring match that seemed a
whole lot more serious than it needed to be.
Folding my arms, I settled in to watch with him,
analyzing Cass's form more than anything because it was
the first time I'd really seen him fight. Zed, I could probably
fight in my sleep, but Cass was an unknown entity. And holy
shit, Lucas hadn't been exaggerating; he was a weapon,
even if he was a little rusty.
At some point Cass caught sight of me watching, but
instead of being distracted, he just seemed to come at Zed
harder and faster. Trying to prove something?
Eventually the fight ended when Cass slammed a hard
uppercut into Zed's diaphragm, knocking the air from him
in a grunt, then nailed a right hook into the side of his face.
They wore gloves, yes. But even gloves couldn't rein in
the power behind those strikes, and Zed hit the mat like a
puppet with his strings cut.
Lucas sucked in a sharp breath, cringing. "I'll go find
some ice," he suggested, shooting me a worried glance.
I just smiled back at him and nodded in the direction of
the locker room. "There's a freezer just inside the men's
changing room. Should be ice packs in there."
Lucas hurried off to do that, and I strolled over to where
Cass was helping Zed up off the mats. My second still had a
distinctly dazed look about him, the one that confirmed
Cass had definitely turned his lights out for just a few
seconds.
"Nice moves, Grumpy Cat," I commented, giving him a
slow clap. "Who'd have thought a retiree such as yourself
had skills?" Yeah, I was just taking my stick and smacking it
straight into the hornet's nest. Danger and I liked to flirt on
a regular basis.
Cass tossed his gloves aside and scooped me up with
one strong arm around my waist, lifting me clean off my
feet. "I'll fucking show you skills, brat."
"Ugh, spare me the show," Zed groaned, rubbing the
already bruised bridge of his nose and glaring at the two of
us. "You're adequate, Saint. But you'd better put in the
fucking hours if you want to beat Johnny Rock in three
weeks."
Cass flipped Zed off, then kissed me with a level of
primal possession that made my insides turn to jelly and my
nipples hard against his hot chest. Fucking hell, there went
another few brain cells.
Reluctantly, I pushed away from Cass and relocated the
floor with my toes as Lucas came jogging over with an ice
pack in hand.
"Thanks, Gumdrop," Zed grunted, taking the ice from
Lucas. He headed over to the well-worn couches at the side
of the room ,sat down with a groan, and clapped the ice to
his face as he leaned back in the seat.
Cass sat on the edge of another chair and meticulously
unraveled his hand wraps, rolling them back up on
themselves rather than letting them spool all over the floor
like wet spaghetti—like I did. "How was your mom?" Cass
asked Lucas, shooting him a curious glance. He, like the
rest of us, was suspicious about Sandra's past.
Lucas gave an uncomfortable shrug and sat on the
couch beside Zed. "Same as usual," he replied, keeping it
vague. As well as the three of them seemed to get along,
not one of them trusted the others as far as he could throw
them. To be expected, I guessed. It could have been worse.
"Jesus, Zed," I muttered, crossing over to him and
snatching the ice pack from his hand. "You didn't even have
it on the bruise." I reapplied it directly to the rapidly
swelling mark on his cheekbone where Cass's knockout
blow had landed, and Zed hissed in pain.
"What the fuck, Dare?" he growled, grabbing my waist
like he wanted to push me away.
I just snickered. "You're such a crybaby." I pressed the
ice harder against his face, and he glared death at me.
Instead of taking the ice from my hand, though, he yanked
me into his lap and let me hold it there while he ground his
teeth together loudly enough to hear.
"Lazy shit," I muttered, but kept the ice on his face
anyway as I rebalanced myself on his lap with my foot up
on the sofa near Lucas.
My sexy stripper just grinned at me like an asshole and
fanned himself with his hand. "Is it just me, or is it hot in
here?"
Death glare didn't even begin to describe the look I sent
in his direction. Lucky for him, he was saved by the
interruption of my phone ringing.
Keeping the ice on Zed's face with one hand—none too
gently, mind—I fished my phone from my jacket pocket and
answered the call.
"Rio," I said, greeting the contractor assigned to Lucas's
house renovations.
"Boss," he replied, sounding nervous. "I think you better
come over here to the Wildeboer house."
I frowned, confused, and switched the call to speaker so
I wouldn't need to relay the information like a parrot. "Is
everything okay there?"
"Yes, boss," Rio replied, his accent stronger than usual.
"But, uh, we found something you're gonna wanna see, you
know, in person and shit."
I locked eyes with Lucas, questioning, but he seemed
just as lost as I was about what Rio might have found.
"Fill me in a bit, Rio," I demanded, my voice sharp.
"What did you find?"
He cursed softly in Spanish, then returned to the call.
"Guns, boss. Fucking shitloads of guns. More than I've ever
seen in one place."
My eyes widened, and Lucas jerked like he'd been
electrocuted.
With my spine stiff and my shoulders tense, I stood up
from Zed's lap and drew a deep breath. "I'll be right there,
Rio," I snapped. "Don't touch a single fucking thing, you
hear me? Seal the house up until we arrive."
"Yes, boss," Rio replied. "Absolutely."
He hung up, and Zed exploded from his chair. "I knew
it!" he shouted, pointing an accusing finger at Lucas. "I
fucking knew it."

OceanofPDF.com
25

C alming breaths were a distant memory as I clenched


my steering wheel with white-knuckled hands.
"Lucas, if you know anything—"
"I don't!" he cut me off, shaking his head.
Zed and Cass were tight on my ass in Zed's Ferrari, and
the fact that the Audi was only a two-seater was the only
thing that’d saved Lucas from the Spanish Inquisition on
the way over to his house.
"Hayden, I swear to you I have no idea what guns are at
my place, and I sure as fuck didn't put them there. I
wouldn't lie to you about this. You know that." His tone was
firm and even with just an edge of a plea.
I raised one hand from the steering wheel, rubbing my
temple where a huge-ass stress headache was building. "I
want to believe you..." That statement sounded weak even
to my own ears.
Lucas jerked a sharp nod, shifting to turn his attention
out the window. "But Zed doesn't."
Fucking hell. Zed was painful on the best of days when
he was right about shit. This, though? This was going to be
a whole new level of infuriating. Not to mention he was
probably going to kill Lucas if this revealed him as some
sort of double agent for Chase.
I needed to admit to myself how bad my feelings for
Lucas had developed when I'd already decided I couldn't
kill him. Even if there was something... even if he'd
deliberately targeted me in the first instance... I didn't
believe it was all fake. His feelings for me were genuine
now. So did it matter how it’d come about?
Yes. Short answer, yes. It absolutely mattered. And yet I
still didn't want to kill him.
Shit. I'd totally lost my edge. I’d never known I had the
emotional capacity left to care about anyone outside of
Seph and Demi. I’d thought I'd salted and burned that part
of my soul five years ago.
Apparently, I was wrong.
"Just..." We pulled up in front of Lucas's house where
several trade vans were parked in the driveway and a
bunch of my Timberwolves in orange vests and hard hats
stood around on the front lawn. "Just don't fucking speak,
okay? Don't do anything to get in Zed's way until we sort
this out."
Lucas flicked a sharp look at me, confused, but nodded
his understanding anyway as we got out of the car.
There was no real opportunity for him to steer clear of
Zed, though. The Ferrari parked directly behind us, and
Zed clamped a strong hand on the back of Lucas's neck
before we even approached the building team.
"This bastard should be chained up in the basement of
Anarchy right now, boss," he spat, shoving Lucas ahead of
him with furious motions.
Cass rumbled a grunt that sounded awfully like
agreement. "He should, if he's guilty, be choking on his own
blood right now." Then he paused and narrowed his eyes at
Lucas. "If he's guilty."
"Which we don't know he is," I snapped, "and the fact
that he is cooperating should go a long way here." I gave
Lucas another warning glare, begging him not to
antagonize Zed or Cass right now. I'd underestimated how
seriously Cass was taking my safety since we'd fucked, but
he was almost as bad as Zed.
"Hades, sir," Rio, the foreman, greeted me as I strode up
the path to his group of workers. I cast my gaze over all of
them, checking that I recognized each and every face, no
matter how vaguely. I might not know names for all of
them, but I was confident there were no new sneaky plants
within the crew.
"Show me," I ordered Rio, indicating he lead the way
into the house. The guys could follow or wait outside, I
didn't much care so long as they were keeping Lucas alive
for the time being.
Rio strode through the front door and headed for the
back of the house. "We found it while we were installing the
elevator, sir," he told me, glancing over his shoulder. "We
needed to knock out this side of the house to allow for the
box shaft and, well shit, hang on." He held aside a heavy
piece of plastic sheeting and indicated for me to enter their
current work zone. "One of my boys somehow managed to
let go of his sledgehammer, fucking moron, and it smashed
through the floorboards over here."
I frowned at the section of flooring he pointed to where
there was now a hole considerably larger than a
sledgehammer would have made.
"Anyway, the hammer dropped straight through. Made
us fucking suspicious, you know? The plans don't show a
basement level." He raised his brows at me, totally ignoring
the three muscular shadows at my back. Smart man. I knew
there was a reason I'd taken him into the Wolves.
"So you investigated." It was rhetorical because of
course that's what he’d done. I would, too.
He grimaced and ran a hand over his thick moustache.
"Yes, sir. We cut the hole bigger and then... well, then that's
when I called you, boss."
"Thank you, Rio." I held out my hand, and he passed me
the flashlight from his tool belt. "I'll take it from here."
"I've got a bigger floodlight in my truck, sir. I'll get the
boys to bring it through if you want." He jerked his head at
the hole in the floor. "Pretty dark down there otherwise."
I nodded my acceptance, and he hurried away to do
what he’d offered. Alone with the guys, I arched a brow
directly at Lucas and tilted my head to the hole in the floor.
"I don't know," he answered my silent question. "I'm just
as shocked as the rest of you."
Zed scoffed a laugh, his fingers digging into the back of
Lucas's neck. "Or you're a fucking excellent actor,
Gumdrop."
With a sigh, I kicked my high-heeled shoes off as I
approached the hole and shone the flashlight inside. It was
a deep enough drop that I would need my hands, so I held
the flashlight out for Cass to hold. With him training the
light on the darkness below, I gripped the rough edges of
the broken floor and lowered myself down. The drop when I
let go wasn't significant, and I landed in a crouch.
"Throw the light down," I called out to Cass. I held my
hands out and caught the heavy flashlight when he dropped
it, then spun it around to inspect my surroundings. "Holy
shit."
Rio hadn't been exaggerating.
"What is it?" Zed yelled down at me as I made my way
deeper into the room and ran my pissy little flashlight over
walls stacked with an entire arsenal of weapons.
"Come down and see for yourself," I yelled back. "I'm not
your fucking secretary." That didn't even make a whole lot
of sense, but my attention was wholly focused on working
out why in the hell there were so many fucking guns under
Lucas's house.
There was some muttering of men's voices above me,
and a moment later Zed dropped through the hole to join
me.
I flashed my light over him, giving a small chuckle.
"Knew you couldn't resist. You let go of Lucas, finally?"
Zed scowled at me in the eerie shadows. "Cass is
holding him." He took the flashlight from my hand and ran
the beam across the walls just like I'd done, then let out a
low whistle.
"Dare... if this doesn't convince you that kid is a plant, I
don't know what will." His voice was pitched low, his tone
disappointed like he actually hadn't wanted Lucas to be
anything more than he seemed. I knew the feeling.
But this wasn't evidence of guilt. "Zed, don't be so
narrow-minded," I chastised, stepping closer to him in the
darkness so we could speak without being overheard. Why
it mattered, I had no idea. But old habits died hard. "Lucas
and his mother have been in Shadow Grove for less than
two months now, and the past eight days he's been staying
with us and workmen have been here. You want to tell me
he built this... massive weapons cache under his uncle's
house within that time and imported all these guns
undetected?" I clicked my tongue. "There's no way."
Zed huffed an annoyed sound. "Sure, if that's how long
he's been here."
"Or doesn't it make more sense that this was his uncle's
doing? Demi said he was squeaky clean, but this suggests
otherwise." I nudged him in the ribs, making him look at
me rather than scowl at the guns. "Zed. Come on. You've
spent a whole lot of time with Lucas this week. Do you
honestly think he knew about this?"
Zed's eyes blazed with stubborn defiance, the flashlight
casting all kinds of harsh shadows and emphasizing his
tight jaw. "I just..." He broke off with a sharp exhale. "I'm
worried you're going to regret this later, boss. I'm scared
you'll trust the wrong man with your heart and be burned
for it." He all but whispered the confession, and it struck
me right in the chest.
Something had shifted between us, something
important, and I was starting to think maybe I was okay
with it.
I reached up, placing my palm against the rough of his
cheek as anxious energy buzzed through me like electricity.
"So who is the right person to trust with my heart,
Zayden?" I tipped my chin, trying to meet his eyes in the
darkness. "You?" I said that word so softly, but it shocked
through me with the force of a freight train. Had I seriously
just said that out loud?
Luckily—or unluckily, depending on your perspective—a
loud scraping and thumping upstairs sounded a split
second after I’d asked that heavy fucking question, and I
stiffened. It was entirely possible Zed hadn't even heard
me, so I was freaking out over nothing.
"Floodlight incoming!" Cass shouted down to us, and I
stepped smoothly away from Zed, heading back to the hole
where a large floodlight on a tripod stand was being
lowered on ropes.
"Got it!" I yelled back when the light touched down. Zed
and I quickly untied the ropes from it and repositioned it
away from the entry hole. Cass tossed an extension cord
down, and Zed plugged the light in.
The brightness that flooded the room made me flinch
and cover my eyes, but Zed's surprised curse made me
blink rapidly to adjust.
The room was enormous, probably covering the entire
footprint of the house with structural pillars at regular
intervals to support the building above. After several
moments of staring around, silent, I turned to Zed with an
eyebrow arched.
"Yeah," he admitted softly. "You might have a point."
I rolled my eyes. Might. Might have a point. This
basement had quite clearly been built before the house
itself, meaning it predated Lucas by at least a decade, if not
more.
"Oh shit," Cass's voice echoed down to us. He was
crouched down, peering through the hole. Lucas was
beside him, looking damn shell-shocked.
"Come down," I called up to them. "Zed's going to play
nice for the time being."
My second huffed in annoyance, shooting me a glare.
"That's not to say he didn't know about this. He inherited
the house; who's to say he didn't inherit some Timberwolf
vendetta from his uncle?"
I didn't have a response to that because he posed a
relevant question. Telling him I wanted to trust my gut
probably wasn't going to fly either. So I just ignored him
and watched Cass and Lucas drop down through the hole.
Lucas's face was the definition of shocked as he stared
around the massive armory in awe. "Fucking hell," he
murmured. "I had no idea."
"Didn't you, though?" Zed muttered with a dark glare.
"Fuck off," I hissed at my second. "Go look around a bit.
Find me some answers about why Lucas's uncle needed all
this firepower."
Zed shot a pointed look at Lucas, still radiating
suspicion, then stalked off to do as I asked. The air smelled
clean, and not a speck of dust covered the weapons. A
slight breeze clued me in to the fact that there was an air
purifying system keeping the weapons in pristine, dust-free
condition, rather than a regular cleaner.
"Gumdrop, I'm gonna say this now," Cass rumbled,
giving Lucas a skeptical look, "if you knew anything about
this, you'd better start fucking talking."
Lucas threw his hands up in frustration. "Jesus Christ,
Cass. I didn't. I don't. This is... I'm just as confused as you
guys. More. My uncle wasn't in any gangs or... anything. He
was a fucking accountant."
Cass twitched a micro-smile. "I thought accountant was
code for sex worker, not hitman."
As amusing as that observation was, his comment struck
something in me, and my brows hitched.
"Shit," I breathed. "I reckon you nailed it, Cass."
He wasn't following my train of thought, just squinting
at me across the bright stream of light. "Nailed what, Red?"
I waved my hand around, indicating where we were.
"This. Lucas's uncle with the squeaky-clean background
check and the secret arsenal underneath his house. He
wasn't an accountant... he was a fucking mercenary."
Cass stiffened, his eyes wide. Lucas looked more
confused than ever, and Zed? Zed yelled from further into
the room, pulling my attention toward him.
"I think you might be right, boss!" he called out. "Look
what I found." He tossed a sheathed dagger to me, and I
caught it easily.
Turning it over in my hands, I let out a groan when I
recognized the ancient crest printed into the handle.
"Lucas," I said, licking my lips and holding the knife up
for him and Cass to see. "Did you know your uncle was in
the Guild?"

OceanofPDF.com
26

I t didn’t take us long to work out exactly how the


secret basement was accessed without the need
for a huge-ass hole in the floor. There was a
staircase further down the room that ended in a false back
to the closet in the downstairs guest room. Based on the
level of dust in that room, it was an easy guess as to why
Lucas had never found the hidden door. I'd have been
surprised if he had ever even stepped foot into the guest
room at all.
Even then, it would have only taken five minutes to find
the access had we not been locked in an argument about
whether Lucas's uncle being in the Guild also meant Lucas
was and whether it was possible he somehow didn't even
know he was doing their work.
Eventually, I'd reached the point where I either shot Zed
in the knee for being such a contrary dick or walked away
from the conversation. Based on the fact that Zed was
following me out of the house with two perfectly hole-free
legs under him, it wouldn't be hard to guess which option
I'd taken.
"Seal up the floor," I told Rio as I approached his team
all sitting around smoking on the lawn. "No one goes in
there without my permission, understood?"
The foreman jerked a sharp nod, and I ran my eyes over
his men to reinforce my order.
"Seal the floor and forget what you fucking saw, Rio.
Trust me on this one; I'm not the scariest bastard out
there."
His eyes widened, but he was firm in his assurances that
they'd do exactly as instructed. Satisfied with his response,
I made my way back to the cars.
I didn't wait to see if the guys had all followed or not,
and Lucas slid into the passenger seat a split second after I
turned the ignition.
Neither of us spoke, and Zed's Ferrari roared past me
when we hit the highway on the outskirts of Shadow Grove,
heading toward his estate.
My lips twitched in a smirk as he accelerated faster
ahead of us, and I gave a short laugh. "Fucking show off," I
muttered.
"Okay, so, I really don't want to tempt my fate here or
anything," Lucas said, breaking the tense silence as I
drove. "But... am I... are we...?"
I flicked a glance at him, and his brow was furrowed
with genuine anxiety. His hands were balled into fists in his
lap, and his whole posture was tighter than a piano string.
As instinctual as it was to immediately reassure him, to
put his fears to rest, I couldn't do that. Not truthfully. But I
owed him more than my silence and suspicions.
"I really want to tell you that we're fine, Lucas," I finally
said, my grip on the steering wheel easing. "There's no
question in my mind that your uncle was in the Guild, that
much we're unilateral on." The copious amount of fake IDs
and passports we'd found with his uncle's picture added
weight to that theory. "But Zed's not wrong in being
paranoid about whether you knew."
Lucas just blew out a long breath and rubbed his hand
over the back of his head. "Yeah, I can understand that," he
said in a resigned voice. "The evidence does look pretty
damning, and you guys are used to people being more than
they seem."
I quirked a brow. "That's a very mature response to a
shitty situation, Lucas."
His lips curved up as he tipped his head to the side. "I
figure I have a moral responsibility to act more like an
adult than Zed, if only to show him up when he's being a
jealous fucknut."
I couldn't fight my laugh at that statement.
When we pulled up outside Zed's house, I leaned over
and pressed a quick kiss against Lucas's lips. "You're a little
bit amazing," I murmured, my hand cupping his face. "I
think that's why I'm still so suspicious. I haven't done
anything in my life to deserve someone like you."
His brow creased, and he slid a hand around the back of
my neck to hold me close a moment longer. "That breaks
my heart that you believe that, Hayden. I think out of
anyone in this fucked up town, you’re the most deserving of
everything and more."
At a loss for words, I kissed him again, then climbed out
of the Audi to head inside.
Zed was in the kitchen, angrily slamming cabinet doors
and throwing food onto the counter like it had personally
offended him, and Cass was nowhere to be seen.
I raised a brow, looking around and not finding
anywhere where that sexy, tattooed biker-man might be
lurking.
I propped my hip against the counter and folded my
arms. "Where's Grumpy Cat?"
Zed paused to glare at me with a deadly sharp chef's
knife in his hand and a handful of vegetables on the board
in front of him. "Why? You worried I shot him and stashed
the body while you were busy making out with Gumdrop in
the car?"
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, 'cause you totally know how to
clean up a scene that quick."
Zed huffed a short laugh, slicing into the vegetables. "He
got a call from someone and took off to deal with it. Reaper
shit, I guess."
"Is it just me," Lucas asked thoughtfully, "or does Cass
seem like he'd rather not be the Reapers’ leader?"
The glare Zed sent towards Lucas was pure acid, and I
swallowed a frustrated sigh.
"Lucas, do you mind giving Zed and I a moment to talk?
We have some things to discuss." I kept my tone friendly,
but the look I gave Zed told him just how pissed off I was
getting with his attitude.
Lucas wasn't stupid, either. He saw it and wisely must
have realized Zed had it coming, so he left the kitchen
without another word.
Zed set his knife down on the chopping board and
scowled at me in disbelief. "Dare—"
"No, Zed," I snapped, cutting him off with a glacial stare.
"Just shut up. I've had it up to fucking here with your bad
temper lately." I indicated a point somewhere around my
eye level, showing him just how close I was to truly losing
my shit at him entirely. "I get it, okay? I fucking get it. You
want to protect me; it's your job to second-guess anyone
getting close to me because it's quite literally in the job
description, both as my second and as my best friend. And
trust me, Zed, I appreciate the hell out of you for it. You've
always had my back. Always. But this is getting out of
hand, and it needs to stop."
At the hard edge in my voice, his eyes hardened with
anger and his jaw tensed, but I wasn't done.
"Everything we just discovered at Lucas's house
implicates his dead uncle of being in the Guild. That's it.
Anything more is just... speculation." I gave a frustrated
headshake, my pulse racing with the need to fix this
uncomfortable tension between my best friend and me.
"Nothing says Lucas is or was ever involved. Short of
making him take a polygraph, what more can be done, Zed?
At some point, you're gonna have to judge him based on his
actions, not your suspicions. And nothing Lucas himself has
done leads me to think he's anything but honest." I paused,
giving a small frown. "Except, you know, about his age. But
that was a white lie at best and not intended to harm
anyone."
Zed drew a long breath through his nose, glaring
daggers at me as he leaned on the countertop. "You done?"
"Not even close," I bit back, narrowing my eyes. "But for
now, sure."
That touch of sass only seemed to infuriate him more,
but I gave zero shits about his temper. He was way out of
line with his attitude toward both Lucas and me, and
enough was enough.
"I don't like this, Hades," he growled out, his forearms
flexed hard against the counter on either side of the cutting
board with his half-chopped veggies. "I hate it. For five
years you've been so closed off and cold. Totally
unshakable. Untouchable. Nothing seemed to crack your
walls even the slightest bit. Fuck, you were even closed off
and distant with Seph. Trust me, she noticed. Then..." He
shook his head, the frustration and anger clear across
every plane of his face. He wasn't making any attempt to
hide what he was feeling from me, and that in itself should
have scared me more than his words.
But it didn't. It just made me more determined to crack
him open and work out what the hell was going on.
"Then, what?" I pushed. "Then I started fucking Lucas
and you got territorial?"
Zed didn't flare up at that swipe, he just gave a bitter
laugh and pushed away from the counter. "Territorial?
That's what you're gonna call it?"
I shrugged, at a loss for any other way to explain his
mood shift.
"Let me put you in my shoes for a hot second, Dare. In
the space of one night you decided to break your track
record of anonymous, emotionless one-night stands and
make a pass at Cassiel fucking Saint, a man you've been
quietly crushing on for years and never acted on. If that
wasn't out of character enough, you then picked up some
random hot guy at the bar, made out with him in full view
of the staff, then proceeded to fuck him on camera at
Scruffy Murphy's to make Cass jealous." He paused to draw
a breath and scrub a hand over his stubbled face, like he
could still hardly believe what had happened.
I ground my teeth together in outrage. "So it's okay for
you to fuck countless random girls inside our clubs but not
okay for me to do it in a Reaper bar? Ever looked up the
definition of hypocrisy, Zed? It'd have a big old picture of
your face right now."
He gave a bitter laugh. "Except they weren't random
hookups for you, Dare. In one night, you went from being
an iron fucking fortress of solitude to suddenly throwing
your heart on the line with two different dudes."
I squinted at him, disbelief practically oozing from my
pores as I interpreted slut-shaming in his words. "So what?
What business is it of yours what I do with my heart or my
pussy? If I wanted to fuck both of them at the same time
tonight, then confess my undying love, I damn well could.
It'd be nobody's business but mine. Sit the fuck down,
Zayden. You're overstepping."
My idea of hashing things out was backfiring pretty
hard. We weren't sorting through jack shit. If anything, I
was making it worse because Zed looked like he wanted to
punch a hole straight through his pantry door.
"You know what?" I said, my voice dripping bitterness.
"This is fucked. I'm going to find somewhere else to stay for
a while."
"No." Zed barked that one word with a hard-edged
authority that rivaled me in Hades mode.
I paused on my way out of the kitchen, spinning around
to give him an incredulous stare. "Excuse me?"
Fists clenched at his sides, he took two steps closer. "I
said, no. No, I will not sit down. Not about this. I'm not
goddamn overstepping, Dare, because I fucking love you.
Okay? I love you."
His words drained the fight out of me like he'd pulled a
plug, and my shoulders sagged in exhausted defeat. He
wasn't being combative for fun, he was just trying to
protect me. Like he always had.
"I know," I replied softly. "I love you too. You're my best
—"
He cut me off with a sharp laugh of disbelief. "No, you
dense bitch. I love you." And then, because clearly I'd
missed the emphasis he was placing on that statement, he
grabbed me by the front of my shirt and crashed his lips
down on mine.
The shock of it froze my brain, and for a moment I acted
on pure instinct and kissed him back. His mouth devoured
mine with an intensity that made my entire being ache and
beg for more. Then better judgement took hold, and I
shoved him away hard enough that he staggered a bit.
"No," I gasped out, wiping a shaking hand over my
mouth. "No, you do not get to play that game, Zayden De
Rosa. You made your choice years ago. You don't get to
suddenly change your mind the second I start falling for
someone else."
I started to leave the kitchen, and he spat a curse, then
followed and grabbed my arm to stop me. "Dare, that's not
—"
"Not what?" I screamed, jerking my arm free and
whirling around to give him the full force of my years-old
hurt. "You broke my heart, Zed. Is that what you want to
hear from me? You're the only person to ever break my
heart. But I sucked it up and dealt with it. You offered me
friendship and I took it. You're my best friend and nothing
more."
"Jesus, Dare, that was six years ago, and you were
engaged to my best friend! What the fuck was I supposed
to do? I didn't know. I had no idea what he was—" He broke
off scrubbing a hand over his face. "I thought I was doing
the right thing."
The backs of my eyes burned, but no tears welled up. I
seriously wondered if I'd lost the ability to cry like a normal
human. "Well, look how that turned out," I whispered, my
voice choked with bitterness and accusation that was
totally misplaced. It wasn't Zed's fault, and I knew it. But
seventeen-year-old me had so badly wanted him to see
through the lies and come to my rescue.
"Dare..." Zed stepped forward, reaching out for me
again. His eyes were pleading and his brow creased with
pain, but I was too far gone to my anger and hurt to
acknowledge it.
"Forget it," I spat, my mouth twisting with regret. "It's in
the past, and it needs to fucking stay there. Don't try this
shit again, Zed. Don't push this. You're too important to me
to lose over misplaced jealousy."
I started to walk away, but he called after me. "I can't do
that, Dare. You feel the same way for me, and you damn
well know it."
I had nothing to say back to that because he was right,
so I just continued out of the kitchen and raced upstairs to
my temporary bedroom. By the time I locked the door, my
knees were weak, and I dissolved into a huddle on the floor,
my arms around my knees.
Zed had the best of intentions. He wanted to push that
delicate relationship balance between us in a way I'd been
quietly hoping he would do for ages. Yet all it'd done was
resurface my badly patched trauma and thrown me straight
back into the past when I was seventeen, naïve as fuck,
gaslighted at every waking moment, and abused behind
closed doors by my sociopathic fiancé.
The night I'd gone to Zed had been one of my worst
mistakes. Not only had he rejected my feelings, making me
think I'd imagined our connection... but Chase had found
out. And he'd made me pay.
Deep shudders ran through me as I struggled to box all
the memories and emotions back up inside my mind once
more. Time lost all meaning as I huddled there in a ball on
the carpet, fighting with my inner demons and exerting the
mental strength I'd worked so damn hard to build.
Eventually, though, the quaking in my limbs subsided
and my harsh breathing slowed. I carefully relaxed my grip
on my knees, pulling deep breaths and releasing them
slowly as I let the calm fill my body. It left me exhausted,
though, and I tipped my head back to rest against the door.
"I'm here," Zed's quiet voice travelled through the wood
to me like he was sitting in a mirror position on the other
side. "I'm here if you need me. I always will be."
My throat tightened with emotion, and I swallowed
heavily. Then I pushed up from the floor and unlocked the
door. Opening it, I looked down at my friend sitting on the
floor, his button-down shirt rumpled and his brow creased
in concern.
No words passed my lips, but I pushed the door open
wider, then retreated over to the big bed and burrowed
under the covers. The door closed softly a moment later,
and Zed crawled in beside me, wrapping me up in his
familiar embrace.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, and I knew he wasn't talking
about kissing me, because he'd seen the tapes from Chase's
room and he knew.

OceanofPDF.com
27

Z ed's gentle hand on my shoulder and his


whispered voice in my ear shook me awake, and I
groaned when I saw it was still dark out. Then I sat up with
a jerk and stared at him with wide eyes.
"What is it?" I asked. "What's happened?"
The relaxed smile on his face reassured me before he
responded. "Nothing, I didn't mean to startle you like that.
Just... get up. We've got somewhere to be."
I frowned my confusion, and he tugged me out of bed by
the arm. "Come on, get in the shower. I'll grab you fresh
clothes. Just be super quiet so we don't wake the Gumdrop.
This is a job just for us."
"Well, color me curious," I muttered, then covered my
mouth as I yawned heavily. "Fine, I'm going."
We'd both fallen asleep fully clothed after our fight the
night before, and I had sore points where my seams and
zippers had pressed into my flesh all night. So I wasn't
arguing all that hard about showering and changing.
After I'd washed, I found a stack of my new clothes
waiting on the edge of the vanity and gave Zed's choices a
curious look. Wherever we were going, I doubted it was on
Timberwolf business, not if I was wearing dark denim jeans
and a plain, long sleeved black top.
"Here," Zed whispered, handing me a pair of flat-soled
boots when I emerged. He placed a finger over his lips,
reminding me to be quiet, and we silently made our way
downstairs. The clock on the foyer wall showed it was
about an hour before dawn, and I gave Zed a suspicious
look as he led the way through to the garage.
"Shouldn't we tell Lucas we're going out?" I asked,
hesitating beside the Ferrari.
Zed gave me an exasperated look. "I left him a note; he'll
be fine. Kid always sleeps in unless you wake him up,
anyway. He probably won't even notice we're gone."
He had a point there. With a shrug, I slid into the
passenger seat and buckled my seat belt. "Alright, fess up;
what are we doing?" I ruffled my fingers through my hair,
yawning again. I hated mornings.
Zed just grinned and revved the engine. "Patience is a
virtue, sir. You'll see."
I rolled my eyes at his teasing tone, turned my attention
out the window, and propped my head on my hand. So far it
seemed like we were just pretending that whole argument
from last night had never happened. That Zed hadn't kissed
me... or that I hadn't kissed him back before spiraling into a
meltdown.
Cool. I could handle denial.
Zed cranked the stereo up loud, eliminating the need for
conversation, and I settled in for a drive. I wasn't worried
about where he was taking me or why he was being
secretive because I trusted him implicitly. He might have
been feeling threatened, but surely he knew how much of
my heart he already owned.
We pulled to a stop at a lookout high up in the hills
behind Shadow Grove right as the first glow of sunrise
started cresting the horizon, and I turned to Zed with a
knowing smile.
"Really?"
His smile was sly as he reached behind the seats to
retrieve a picnic basket. "It's not quite the same," he said
with a shrug, popping his door open. "But it's close."
We got out, and I grinned when Zed sat on the hood of
his Ferrari and patted the spot beside him. When we'd done
this as teenagers, our cars had been considerably less
expensive and we didn't much care if we dented them.
Still, I wasn't going to argue, so I hopped up beside him
and accepted the thermos of coffee he took from the picnic
basket.
We were silent for a long time, sharing the coffee and
watching the sun rise over Shadow Grove. I couldn't speak
for Zed, but for the first time in a long time, I just let my
mind empty out and allowed a heady sense of calmness and
serenity fill me up.
When the coffee ran out, I sighed and rested my head on
Zed's shoulder. He wrapped his arm around me, and the
strength of his grip reinforced exactly what he'd told me
last night. He would always be there for me, no matter
what.
"Thank you, Zed," I murmured after a while. "I needed
this more than I even knew."
It was something we used to do a lot, back when we
were still new to all the violence and tension of gang life.
When it all started to get overwhelming, we would sneak
out in the early hours of the morning and drive to a lookout
to watch the sun rise. It was our thing, Zed's and mine, and
Chase had hated that he was never invited. Ultimately,
though, he’d never needed it like we did. Chase Lockhart
was born for that life, he thrived in it. The killing, the
violence, the threats and tactics—none of it weighed on his
mind like it did on ours. It never stained his soul, because
you couldn't stain something already so black.
"We're not done yet," he told me with a lopsided smile,
checking his watch for the time. "Get in."
Smiling and feeling like a lead weight had been lifted
from my shoulders, I climbed off the hood of the Ferrari
and returned to my seat. The look Zed gave me as he
accelerated back out onto the road was pure excitement,
and I couldn't stop the rush of emotion it stirred up in me.
He'd been accurate last night when he accused me of
feeling exactly the same way as he claimed to. But because
of that, I was more determined than ever to keep the status
quo between us. Messing with a good thing was only going
to end in heartbreak.
It didn't make it any easier, though. Now that I knew
how he felt... it was worse than ever. I was reading more
into every glance, every touch, every smile...
Shit. What had he done?
I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to give myself a
mental pep talk as we drove to our next location, then I
started laughing as we pulled into a driveway marked by a
sign that read Stealth Hunter Paintballing.
"Zed..." I turned to him with a wide grin. "You're taking
me paintballing?"
He gave me a wry smile. "You're not fucking shooting
me, if that's what you're thinking. I've taken enough
bruises for one week, thank you." He grimaced and rubbed
his face where both Cass and I had left our marks.
We parked in the mostly empty lot, but straight away I
spotted the busload of SGU frat boys unloading near the
entrance, laughing and whooping, talking trash about
kicking each other's asses.
"Wanna shoot some loud-mouthed idiots without all the
messy body disposal?" Zed offered, tilting his head to the
side. "This is an open course, us versus whoever else is
playing."
I let out a low whistle, quickly counting frat boys. "Two
against twenty-six? Seems like unfair odds." I quirked a
brow. "Maybe we should do it blindfolded."
Zed scoffed a laugh and led the way into the paintball
park.
A few of the frat boys spotted us patiently waiting our
turn to register and started making stupid jokes about how
there wouldn't be much competition on the field today. By
the sound of things, they were regulars at the paintball
park. Poor darlings.
A familiar face in the group caught my eye, and I tilted
my head slightly in question. He casually made his way
over, separating himself from his friends, and stood slightly
to the side of Zed and I as he pretended to look at the
noticeboard.
"Morning, boss," he greeted me quietly, then inclined his
head to Zed, "and boss."
"I never picked you for a frat boy, Rixby," I replied just as
quietly, biting back my amused grin. "It's an interesting
look for you."
His usually spiky, gelled hair was combed flat, and a
buttoned-up polo shirt covered a lot of his tattoos. The
edges of the Timberwolf mark on his bicep were visible, but
unless someone knew what the mark was, they'd never
guess it was a gang symbol.
Rixby shot Zed a look, which told me that my second
was fully aware and had possibly even inserted him into the
frat in the first place.
"He's looking into some new campus drug dealers," Zed
murmured softly. "But today, he's setting his frat brothers
up for a bloodbath, aren't ya, Rixby?"
The preppy undercover Timberwolf scoffed a laugh.
"They need the ego check. Go easy on me, boss? I have a
reputation to keep intact."
Zed shook his head. "Good fucking luck on that one."
Rixby gave a groan but was grinning when he made his
way back into the group of his "friends" to get kitted out.
Folding my arms, I gave Zed a long look, and he just
smiled back at me, smug as fuck in the knowledge that we
would wipe the floor with these poor fools.
Yeah. This was exactly what I needed.

Z ed had been right when he said we would probably get


home before Lucas even knew we were gone. When we
returned to the house covered in paint splatter—but no
direct hits—Lucas was on his way downstairs, still looking
half-asleep.
"Hey, what's with the note?" he asked Zed, frowning at a
scrap of paper in his hand, then reading aloud, "Gone out
with H. Do your homework like a good Gumdrop. Boss
man."
I snorted a laugh. "That's cute," I told Zed with a wide
grin. "You think you're the boss around here." Reaching up,
I gave him a condescending pat on the head, then headed
through to the kitchen.
"What?" Zed asked, following. "I am his boss. Or... was.
You're probably not a hot commodity on the stage right
now, kid."
Lucas scowled back at Zed as I slid onto one of the
barstools at the island. "Yeah, keep lying to yourself like
that, Zed. Chicks dig scars; I'll be ten times as popular
whenever the actual boss lets me get back to work." He
gave me a pointed look, and I shook my head firmly.
"Not a chance, Lucas. Your bruises haven't even healed,
let alone that burn." I frowned at his chest like I could see
the brand through his T-shirt. It was healing well, and his
doctor speculated that the branding iron may not have
been as hot as it could have been. Chase had rushed it, and
for that I was glad.
"Actually, I had an idea about this," Lucas told me,
tapping the spot with his index finger. "So don't stress. I
got it handled. Just say the word and I'll happily get back to
work in any of your other clubs."
Zed arched a brow at me behind Lucas's back, and I
flicked a look at him before shaking my head. "We can
discuss it when you've had another checkup."
Lucas gave a long sigh and braced his hands on the
counter beside me. He leaned in close, his lips brushing
over my ear. "I guess I'll have to keep my skills sharp with
private dances in the meantime." His whispered words
were full of sex and promise, and his teeth nipped playfully
at my neck.
I sucked in a sharp breath as my body responded, but
my eyes locked with Zed's. He wasn't angry, though. Just...
sad. Resigned.
Fucking hell. That was the last thing I wanted. Had we
already broken our once ironclad friendship with that one
kiss? Or had this already been a long time coming?
The gate buzzer sounded, saving me from doing
something really dumb—like asking Zed if he was cool
entering into a polyamorous relationship with me, Lucas,
and Cass.
Zed went to answer it, and Lucas seized the opportunity
to kiss me properly while we were alone. His hands clasped
my waist, and his full lips were soft and unhurried against
mine as I kissed him back.
I could seriously kiss Lucas forever; he had some crazy
natural talent with that mouth of his.
"Are you okay this morning?" he murmured softly when
he released me a moment later. "I couldn't help
overhearing a bit of that argument last night..."
I cringed, hating that he'd possibly witnessed such a raw
wound on my soul. "Yeah. Zed and I have... history."
Lucas snorted a laugh. "No shit. But that wasn't quite
how I thought it was going to play out."
My brows rose. I wanted to ask what he meant by that
comment, whether he had known Zed was going to
spontaneously declare his love and kiss me. But footsteps
on the tile floor cut our quiet conversation short, and Zed
walked back into the kitchen with Dallas following behind
him.
"Dallas," I said with surprise. "I didn't know we were
expecting you this morning."
He gave me a tight smile and a nod of respect. "Sir. No,
you weren't. I thought this was important enough to
warrant discussing in person, though."
His laptop was tucked under his arm, and he placed it
down on the countertop to open the screen up.
I shot Zed a curious look, but he gave me a small
headshake in response, telling me he also had no clue what
Dallas had come to tell us.
"Okay, I'm just going to cut to the chase and pray you
two aren't in the mood to shoot the messenger," Dallas
muttered, flicking Zed and I nervous glances as his fingers
flew over the keyboard.
"We took the edge off at the paintball park this
morning," Zed replied with a wry smile. "What have you
found?"
"The purchaser of your insurance underwriter," Dallas
replied with a grimace. "That shell corporation took a bit of
hammering to crack, but sure enough..." He heaved a sigh,
then spun his laptop around to show us the document on
the screen. "Locked Heart Enterprises."
My whole body stilled, and my heartrate seemed to
pause for a second.
"You're kidding me," I responded in a hoarse whisper,
my gaze locking with Zed's. "That's not even remotely
subtle."
Zed nodded his agreement. "He wanted that shell
cracked."
"Uh, okay, maybe," Dallas murmured. "Anyway, this is
your CEO of Locked Heart. I did some digging into his
background, of course, and—"
"And you found affiliations to the old Timberwolves,"
Zed finished for him, scrubbing a hand over his face with a
groan. "As well as a familial tie to the Lockhart family.
Wenton Dibbs was, what? Chase's cousin?" He looked to me
for confirmation, but I was shaking my head in disbelief.
"Yeah, he was," I replied, licking my suddenly dry lips as
I stared at the data sheet on the laptop screen. "But he's
also dead."
Dallas frowned. "Um, not to contradict you or anything,
sir, because that seems like a supremely stupid idea... but
Wenton Dibbs is very much alive. He's been filing tax
returns every year, paying rent, getting parking tickets..."
He trailed off with a shrug.
I arched a brow at him. "Do you have a picture of him?"
Dallas's expression tightened. "No. Or nothing clear
enough for facial recognition software. Just these, lifted
from a security camera outside the Locked Heart office in
Cloudcroft." He clicked a couple of times, bringing up some
grainy images that simply showed a tall man with light hair
and broad shoulders. His face was averted in all the shots,
like he knew where the cameras were and deliberately
avoided them.
They had been cousins, so without seeing his face there
was no way to conclusively tell whether it was Chase or
Wenton. Except for one thing.
"Wenton Dibbs is dead," I said again, rubbing my
forehead. "Chase shot him on the back of his dad's yacht
and tossed the body overboard."
Zed gave me a startled look. "How come I never knew
about this? Didn't the family blame their feud with the
Montaguire's on them killing him?"
I shrugged. "I forgot all about it until just now. I
wasn't..." My voice broke, and I needed to swallow. "I
wasn't fully lucid when it happened."
I met Zed's eyes, and he gave a knowing nod.
"If that's everything, Dallas, I think we need to discuss
this in private." He arched a brow at our resident hacker,
who smoothly collected his laptop and jerked a nod.
"Understood, boss. I'll send a copy of all of this over to
you and keep hunting for better images of Dibbs. Or
whoever." He gave me another nod, then hurried out of the
house once more.
After the front door closed, echoing through to us in the
kitchen, Zed folded his arms and gave me a worried look.
"Want to tell us the story?" His voice was calm and
unemotional, but his eyes were swimming with concern.
He'd seen my meltdown last night, and this would be
wandering awfully close to those same memories. But one
word in his question grounded me back in the present. One
word choice threw me a lifeline to cling to and remind
myself that things were different now.
Us.
He’d asked if I wanted to tell “us” the story... him and
Lucas.
Lucas heard it too and slid his arm around my waist in a
silent reminder that he was there for me. I wasn't that
scared, drugged-up teen anymore. I had a support network,
and dammit, I needed to start using it.
I only wished Cass were here too. Where was he?

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28

C lenching my teeth, I tried to force my hand to stop


shaking as I raised my coffee to my lips. Zed had
just poured it for me, then pulled out the bag of assorted
pastries we'd picked up on our way home from paintballing.
"Zed already knows my horrible history," I told Lucas in
a dry voice, wrinkling my nose, "so just... interrupt if I
confuse you. Otherwise, I'm just going to gloss over the
details if that's cool?"
He nodded, his brow creased in concern, but his hand
on my knee was nothing but reassuring.
I drew a breath. "Okay, so in a nutshell, Chase Lockhart
was an unrestrained, sociopathic psychopath. I mean... if a
clinical psychologist got their hands on him, they'd either
write a thesis or wet themselves." Zed snorted a laugh but
didn't interrupt. "He used to..." I trailed off, then gave
myself a mental slap to pull it together. "He thought it was
entertaining to drug me. PCP was his family's cash cow,
and he found the hallucinations that a strong dose could
induce to be... I don't know. Amusing. He got off on fear, so
trust me when I say that my experiences with angel dust
were quite firmly the stuff of nightmares."
"That's fucked up," Lucas muttered, and I gave him a
lopsided smile.
"You have no idea. Anyway. Wenton Dibbs." I cleared my
throat and tugged nervously on a lock of my hair. "It was
during some event or other that the elder Lockharts were
hosting. We'd gone out on his father’s yacht, and Chase was
in the mood to celebrate some promotion his father had
given him. He was drinking and doing lines of coke and
pressuring me to do it with him."
Zed grunted an annoyed sound. "He was good at that.
Manipulative fuck."
"Yep. Eventually he decided I wasn't being fun enough
and dosed me up on angel dust." I detached myself from
the story, focusing on the warmth of Lucas's hand on my
knee, of the rich scent of coffee under my nose, and the
intense, blazing blue of Zed's eyes locked on mine. "The
altercation with Wenton happened when Chase decided to
share me around. Wenton refused, then stood up to Chase
and told him..." I trailed off, the details fuzzy. "I don't know
what. But it ended up with Wenton punching Chase and
Chase shooting him in the head."
I paused, taking a sip of my coffee and letting the
distorted memories play out in my mind like a TV channel
with bad reception. It was all fuzzy and broken flashes of
my drug-induced delirium intermingled with reality. My
stomach churned and twisted like I was stuck on a
rollercoaster after drinking milk.
Nope. No way. That was a ride I was more than capable
of getting off. So I did. I shut it down and shook my head to
clear the scene before refocusing on Zed's eyes once more.
"Chase panicked that he'd be in trouble for killing a
member of the family, so he shoved Wenton's body into the
ocean, then paid off the other witnesses, Ivan and Dennis,
before we got back to shore." I gave a small sigh. "I was so
messed up that it all just... disappeared in my mind."
Zed's shoulders were tight with fury, his hands clenched
into fists at his sides as he stared back at me. The guilt and
pain in his gaze was almost too much to bear, so I looked
away, turning to Lucas, as I cleared my throat.
"Do you have any questions?" I asked it gently, meaning
did he want more details or would that suffice to explain
what an unbalanced mess I’d been.
Lucas’s forehead was deeply lined with disgust, but his
grip on my knee was strong and comforting. "Yeah, actually,
I do," he replied, his voice rough with emotion. "I in no way
want to doubt your version of events, but my first thought
here is... are you sure that's what happened? On all those
drugs, already hallucinating... You said Chase got off on
your fear, so I'm going to assume he did shit to deliberately
scare you, probably orchestrated situations to mess with
your head and terrify you."
I jerked a nod. He'd nailed it.
Lucas winced, probably hoping I'd say it wasn't like that.
"Well, yeah." He ran his free hand over his floppy, model-
eque hair. "How do you know that wasn't a setup to scare
you or keep you in line? Like a warning to you not to fuck
with him?"
The cold chill traveling down my spine turned to ice.
"It's possible," Zed said softly, leaning across the
counter and tugging my thumbnail from between my teeth.
I hadn't even noticed I was chewing it. "I remember that
event. I wasn't there that night because I was out with
some random college chick, desperately trying to convince
myself I wasn't in love with my friend's girl." He gave me a
long look. "If I'd been there, he wouldn't have tried that
shit."
I gave a small shrug, refusing to let myself wallow in
that victimized feeling any longer. "He'd have just done it
later, when we got home."
"But it's possible Wenton wasn't shot," Lucas reiterated.
"A whole lot more possible than Chase surviving a bullet to
the face. Right?"
My skin prickled, and I glanced over at Zed. Was it?
My friend gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Only you have
any hope of answering that, Dare. How positive are you
that your memory was reality and not a dust-induced
fakery?" He ran a hand over the back of his neck, wincing.
"Because I witnessed you shoot Chase. But both Ivan and
Dennis are dead now, so we can't check with them about
your memory of Wenton."
I ran that information over and over in my mind,
inspecting it from an outsider's perspective. From Lucas's
point of view. Eventually, I swiped a hand over my face and
exhaled long and hard.
"Fuck," I whispered. "I don't know."
Lucas gave my knee a squeeze. "That's okay, babe. You
don't have to know. Whether it's Chase himself or Wenton
Dibbs, we're still gonna kill him for real this time. He's
declared war on Hades herself; there's only one way to end
this."
Zed gave a grim laugh. "With total anarchy."
I groaned and rolled my eyes at his dumb play on words.
But it shifted my mind onto a more worrying subject.
"Have either of you heard from Cass today?" His
absence was increasingly irritating me. Not that I expected
him to be hanging around like a lovesick fool simply
because we'd fucked once, but something seemed off about
him not being here. Maybe that said more about how
deeply I'd already let him under my skin than it said about
anything else. Prior to hooking up, I'd been lucky to see
Cass once a week. He had his own life, his own gang to run.
But I was uncomfortably aware how much of his life had
previously involved random, beautiful women, and we
hadn't exactly drawn up an agreement about what we
were.
Lucas shook his head, taking a bite of a chocolate
croissant. "Nope."
Zed refilled my coffee mug and pressed an oh-so-casual
kiss on my cheek as he leaned in. "It sounded like some
teething pains with the Wraith takeover." He spun away
before I could give him a hard look for that slightly more-
than-platonic gesture. "But I'm supposed to see him at
Anarchy for training in a few hours, if you want to come
spectate."
I grinned, nodding to the bruise on the side of his face.
"You that eager for me to see you get KO'd again, Zayden?"
I clicked my tongue, teasing. "I think you might have let
your skills slip a bit in recent years. I might need to throw
you into a fight night too."
He narrowed his eyes, setting the coffee pot back down
and folding his arms over his chest. "Pick a date; I'll do it. I
was just going easy on the old man yesterday so he
wouldn't break a hip."
Lucas started laughing and choked on his mouthful of
pastry. He coughed hard, his face red as he tried to get
himself under control, but Zed just glared ice-cold death at
him throughout.
"If you say so," I told him with a wide grin, thumping
Lucas on the back to help him out, even though it was a
proven fact that did nothing to help.
Zed glowered, picking up his own coffee mug to drink
from it. "Fucking shit stirrer," he muttered at Lucas. The
dark look he cast at my Gumdrop said he would be getting
revenge during training later, poor darling.
"Alright, I need to go wash some of this paint off," I
announced, sliding off my stool and taking my empty mug
to the sink. "You two play nice and don't kill each other in
some kind of misguided dick-measuring competition."
Lucas smirked. "I'm secure enough not to need
measuring."
I rolled my eyes, but he was probably right. That snake
he was smuggling in his trousers was a one in a million.
Leaving them in the kitchen, I made my way back
upstairs while texting Dallas. I wanted the details of the
Locked Heart offices so I could pay the CEO a visit in
person. After all, it seemed like the easiest way to answer
the Wenton-or-Chase question once and for all. Positive,
first-hand identification.
But I had to admit to myself as I washed fluorescent
paint from my hair under the shower stream that it was
seeming a hell of a lot more likely this was Wenton, and
that gave me some measure of relief. I could handle Wenton
Dibbs back from the dead. He wouldn't break me like
Chase could.

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29

Z ed seriously taught Lucas a lesson about laughing


at him. When they finished their training session
in the downstairs gym, Lucas was half-dead and groaning
curses at my second.
I gave Zed a half-hearted reprimand on account of
Lucas's still-healing wounds, but ultimately, Lucas was just
as much to blame.
Dallas had gotten back to me earlier to let me know that
Wenton Dibbs, CEO of Locked Heart Enterprises, was
currently out of the country, so I'd had to put my
confrontation plans on ice for the time being.
After Zed left to check on the clubs and meet Cass at
Anarchy, I settled down beside Lucas on the sofa in the
living room. He was freshly showered and changed and
flicking through the streaming channels in search of a
movie.
I snuggled under his arm. "What are you looking for?"
He gave me a sly smile. "Research," he replied, then
clicked on the movie he'd been hunting for. "Gotta work on
some new routines so I'm ready when my boss puts me
back on the schedule."
I snickered as Magic Mike started playing on the big
screen. Call me curious, though, I wanted to see what
inspiration he was going to draw from Channing and his
guys.
We'd just settled in to watch, when my phone vibrated in
my pocket, and I gave a frustrated sigh. I was starting to
think I'd be better off without a phone... but that probably
wouldn't work amazingly well for running my empire.
I pulled it out and sat up with a jerk when I saw the
caller ID.
"Everything okay?" Lucas asked, arching a brow at me.
My eyes flew from the phone to him then back to the
phone screen in an instant. "Yeah. Yes. I have to take this."
I rushed out of the room, sliding my thumb over the "accept
call" button, and brought the phone to my ear. "Seph?
What's wrong?"
There was a heavy pause, and I desperately wished I
could climb through the phone. Then my sister sighed.
"Hey, Dare," she finally said.
She didn't sound like she was panicked or in pain or
being held against her will. What the fuck?
"I'm still so mad at you," she informed me, her tone hard
and edged with hurt. "But you're still my big sister."
The air rushed out of my lungs, and I sagged against the
wall of the foyer. I'd text Seph several times since our fight,
but she hadn't responded and I hadn't pushed her. Demi
had kept me updated that they were all fine in Italy, and I'd
left it at that, hoping distance and time would scab over the
wound of my shitty actions.
"Of course I am, Seph," I whispered. "I'll always be your
sister, even if you don't want me."
She huffed a sound. "Yeah, well... Demi might have had
some words with me about... things." She paused, sounding
awkward. "Lucas and you. And how I reacted."
"You don't need to apologize, Seph. I never should have
lied to you," I told her in a rush, and she barked a laugh.
"I wasn't fucking apologizing, you narcissist." She
snapped the words at me, and I grinned. "You're damn right
you shouldn't have lied to me; you made me feel like a total
idiot! But... a little perspective has made me accept the fact
that it wasn't that bad. It's not like Lucas cheated on me; it
was just a stupid crush."
I was genuinely surprised at her maturity. "That's what
you were calling me to say?"
"No, not entirely," she admitted. "I might have, um,
accidentally overheard Demi talking with Archer about
you."
Ah, shit. My spine stiffened, and I raked my fingers
through my hair.
"What did you hear, Seph?"
"Not much," she admitted, sounding annoyed about that
fact, "but I heard them say that the bomb at our building
had something to do with Chase."
I had nothing to say to that. I could kill Demi and Archer
for being so careless around Seph. I never, ever wanted her
to know what I'd gone through while our father was alive—
or what she'd very nearly ended up suffering.
She let out another small sigh. "Look, I'm starting to
understand that I don't really know what you dealt with
back then. But... I know you, Dare. I know how strong you
are and how fiercely you protect the new Timberwolves.
And I remember how you were back then when you were
dating Chase." Her voice was small and quiet, making my
eyes heat and my throat thicken. "You weren't you back
then. The look in your eyes got hollower, deader every
fucking day I saw you, and I knew it was because of him. I
used to sneak into your room while you were sleeping just
to check your pulse and make sure you hadn't killed
yourself when it all got too much." Her voice broke over
that confession, and I could hear the tears in her breathing.
Try as I might, I couldn't find the words to reassure her.
I couldn't tell her she was wrong, that I hadn't thought
about ending it all hundreds of times. But I never did it,
because of her. If I was gone, who would save my little
sister from the same fate?
Seph sniffed loudly and drew a breath. "But then shit
changed. You... did what you did. And even though you
withdrew and became all cold and mean, I was relieved
because since that day, you’ve never once looked like you
were giving up again." Her voice stopped wobbling, and I
could practically see her pulling herself together. She was a
fucking strong woman in her own right; I just never told
her that.
"It's not Chase," I whispered to her, not trusting my
voice fully. "I don't think so, anyway. It's... complicated. I
guess. But even if it were him, he'd be in for a nasty
surprise if he expected to push me around again."
Seph gave a sharp laugh. "No shit. You'd flatten his ass.
Anyway, what I wanted to say is that I think this weird
cougar thing you've got going with Lucas is good for you.
You’ve changed since you met him, and even though I
thought it was Zed you'd been fucking, I knew someone
was being good to you. Someone had finally been let in and
showed you that you were worth loving. 'Cause you are,
Dare. I hope you know that."
A hot tear escaped my eye and rolled down my cheek,
rendering me speechless.
"I'm just..." Seph continued, oblivious to the way her
words had just struck me dead in the heart. "I was angry at
you for Zed and Cass. You were screwing a high school
senior while those two gods amongst men have been pining
after you for-freaking-ever, and I thought you were making
a big mistake. But I dunno. Now I'm choosing to accept
anyone who can make you smile like Lucas clearly does."
I gave a harsh chuckle, sniffing back the tears that
welled behind my eyeballs. One more heart-felt statement
from my bratty little sister and I was likely to dissolve into
a puddle of emotions.
"Well, don't write them off yet," I told her with a dry
groan. "Things are... complicated."
There was a pause on the phone, then Seph let out a
high-pitched squeal of excitement. "Oh my god!" she
shrieked. "You're totally fucking all three of them! Ugh,
Dare, did I ever tell you you're my idol? Maybe now you'll
stop cunt-blocking me so I can get a reverse harem
relationship of my own. I'm so left out right now."
I could hear the exaggerated pout in her voice, and I
grinned. "Don't count on it, little sister."
She whined a protest, then yawned. "Okay. I need to go
to bed; it's like one in the morning here. Demi is taking us
into Florence tomorrow to visit the Galleria dell’Accademia
and look at some giant stone dude’s tiny dick. Reckon that's
okay, or did you want to go threaten the statue of David not
to show me his junk?" The sass was back, and my chest
flooded with warmth.
"Don't tempt me, brat," I warned her. "Is Archer around
somewhere to talk to me?"
She made a grossed-out sound. "Trust me, you do not
want me interrupting him and MK right now. I'll tell him to
call in the morning."
I snickered again. "Fair enough. I love you, Seph." My
voice was hoarse, and as I said it, I realized how painfully
infrequently I told her.
Enough that there was a stunned silence before she
reciprocated. "I love you too, Dare. Don't die on me, okay? I
still need you to teach me how to shoot, and Demi refuses
to let me touch her guns."
I rolled my eyes and shook my head, even though she
couldn't see my reaction. "Sweet dreams, kid. Send me
some pictures from Italy, okay?"
"You got it," she promised, then ended the call.
I sat there in the foyer with my back pressed to the wall
for a long time, replaying my conversation with Seph in my
head over and over until I decided maybe I didn't need to
murder Demi and Archer after all. Despite how bad Seph's
eavesdropping could have ended, I couldn't stay mad
considering how it'd turned out.
Eventually I pushed back to my feet and made my way
through to the living room, where I found Lucas shirtless
and grinding the coffee table as music poured from the
speakers.
He froze when he spotted me watching, then grinned.
"Hey babe," he said, sending me a suggestive look. "Wanna
help me work on this combination? I need a focus point."
Seph's words about how Lucas had changed me for the
better echoed through my mind again, and as I ran my eyes
over him, my whole body seemed suddenly warm and floaty
with an emotion I was totally unused to.
"I've got a better idea." I raised the hem of my T-shirt
and stripped it off. "Show me that move you were just
doing... upstairs."
His eyes widened with eagerness. "Upstairs, huh?"
I nodded, unhooking my bra to toss aside with my shirt.
"Yup. So you have a soft landing if you fall."
"Oh," he replied, prowling across to me with a wicked
smirk on his full lips. "Well, if it's in the name of safety." He
stooped and scooped me up in his arms, drawing a
surprised yelp from my throat.
"Lucas!" I objected. "Put me down; you're still healing!"
He just laughed and kissed me as he carried me
upstairs. Damn it if his disregard for doctor’s orders wasn't
still turning me on. I loved a bad boy, and Lucas was
quickly losing his angelic shine.
Every day he spent with me, with Zed and Cass and the
Timberwolves, his halo was becoming perfectly tarnished.
Perfect for Hades.

OceanofPDF.com
30

L ucas was more than happy to show me just how


much his range of motion and stamina had returned,
fucking me stupid well into the night until we both
passed out from sheer exhaustion.
He really was setting the bar high, I had to admit. Cass
was going to have his work cut out if he wanted to get back
into my panties after this week's strange behavior. And as
for Zed... well... I was still too much of a stubborn bitch to
fully consider what it'd be like to fuck Zed for real. I didn't
want to get my hopes up, even inside my own mind, only to
have him buck the idea of sharing me in real life.
Zed simply didn't play that nicely with others. He was
too territorial, despite how cordial he'd been with Lucas
and Cass so far.
Unfortunately, no one sent that memo to my
subconscious. So later that night I found myself deep in the
throes of a sex dream starring me and three to-die-for sexy
men, all naked and sweaty and—
A gentle clink of metal jerked me from my delicious
fantasy, and my eyes popped open to find a large, shadowed
figure looming over the side of the bed. Lucas's arm was
still heavy over my waist, his soft breath tickling my back,
so I acted on instinct and struck out silently.
My foot shot out of the blankets, catching my surprise
visitor square in the crotch. He uttered a quiet oof as he
crumpled but still reached out to drag me down with him as
he hit the floor. The movement was so quick, so smooth, I
slid straight out from under Lucas's arm and tumbled on
top of my attacker without a sound. He rolled, locking me
under his huge form and clapping a hand over my mouth
with an almost silent chuckle.
"Hi, Red," Cass rumbled in my ear. His teeth nipped my
lobe, then he suck it into his mouth. "I missed you."
So I could tell. Despite the direct hit his junk had just
caught from my foot, he was having no trouble getting it up
now that he had me naked and pinned beneath him.
I bucked under him as quietly as I could, trying to
dislodge his weight but also not wanting to wake Lucas up.
So okay, sure, I wasn't trying that hard. Sue me, I liked
having Cass’s body pinning me to the carpet and his lips on
my neck.
His kisses trailed down the line of my throat, sucking
and biting my skin like he wanted to devour me, but his
hand stayed tight over my mouth to prevent me from
cursing him out. Smart man, he really did know me well. So
surely, he'd have seen it coming when I bit his fingers to
make him release me.
He snatched his hand away with a hiss, then bit my
shoulder in retaliation. Prick.
"Screw you, Saint," I said in a harsh whisper, shoving at
his strongly muscled torso. "You're on my shit list; you don't
get to maul me in the middle of the night."
He raised his head up slightly, peering at me in the
moonlight leaking through the half-closed windows. "Hmm,
I see."
In a smooth motion he rolled off me and surged to his
feet, pulled me up along with him.
"Cass—" I started to protest, but he was already pulling
me out of the room.
I shot a quick look back at Lucas, but he was still sound
asleep and hugging a pillow where I'd just been—proof he’d
had a hell of a lot less darkness in his life that he could
sleep through the quiet noises Cass and I had just made.
Once we were out of the room, Cass closed the door
with a barely audible click, then turned to me with a flash
of determination across his face.
"Don't give me that look, Grumpy Cat," I snapped—
quietly—and folded my arms under my breasts. The fact
that I was totally naked sort of changed the whole tone of
that gesture, though, something Cass must have agreed
with because a second later I found myself slung over his
shoulder as he strode down the hall to the bathroom I'd
adopted as my own.
"Cass, put me down," I ordered as he stepped inside and
shut the door. He didn't bother turning on any lights, and
he didn't really need to. The full moon outside was bright
enough that we could still see.
He didn't answer me and didn't put me down. Instead he
reached into the shower, cranked the water on, and stuck
his hand under the stream to check the temperature. When
I struggled against his strong grip around the backs of my
thighs, he slapped my ass with a wet hand, and I gave an
embarrassingly sexual moan.
Whoops.
He heard it too, if his dark chuckle was any indication.
His fingers kneaded my stinging butt cheek, caring but
rough as fuck.
Dammit if I wasn't soaking for him, despite my irritation
at his absence all week.
"What are we doing, Cass?" I demanded, letting my
voice raise slightly louder now that we were away from
Lucas's bedroom. "How'd you even get in here? Did Zed
bring you home?"
He tested the water again, then turned his face to give
my hip a teasing bite. "Nope. Last I saw him, he was still at
Anarchy, beating the shit out of some punk-ass kid for being
caught with angel dust."
Alarm shuddered through me, and I tried to push out of
Cass's grip. "What? Why didn't he call me?"
Cass stepped straight into the shower—still fully dressed
—and deposited me under the warm stream of water. "He
did. You didn't answer." The water quickly soaked through
his T-shirt and jeans, plastering the fabric to his body like
papier-mâché, and I was glad for the darkness to hide the
way I eye fucked him.
I frowned, wanting to argue his point, but then I realized
my phone was downstairs somewhere. I'd left it down there
after my call with Seph, then spent the rest of the evening
riding Lucas's monster cock like I could fuck away all the
potent emotions my sister had stirred up.
"He's got it handled," Cass assured me, grabbing a fluffy
sponge and squirting a crapload of body wash onto it. "I
might not be the biggest fan of Zayden De Rosa, but he's a
fucking solid second."
I scoffed a laugh as he started running the soapy sponge
over my skin. "Bullshit. You and Zed are quietly involved in
a bromance; don't even try to deny it. All that mutual
respect and shit." I tilted my head back, letting the water
soak through my hair as Cass paid particular attention to
washing my breasts. Especially my nipples. They seemed to
need a whole lot of cleaning.
"Mmm," he replied, not agreeing but not disagreeing.
"He'll kill you for breaking into his house, though." I
swiped water from my face to give Cass a hard look. "How
did you break in?"
The big, tattooed bastard just smirked.
I rolled my eyes and reached out to pluck the saturated
fabric of his shirt away from his washboard abs. "So, what
are we doing in here, hmm? You've all but ghosted me for
the whole week. I'm tempted to kick you out on your ass."
"You won't though," he murmured, dipping his head to
kiss me slowly as his soapy sponge trailed lower down my
body. His lips moved against mine, his tongue tangling in
my mouth and making me temporarily forget my annoyance
with him.
"Cass..." I breathed his name as he released my mouth.
His sponge had made it between my legs, and I was about
three seconds away from grinding against it like I was in
heat. "What's going on?"
My hands slipped beneath his wet T-shirt to grip his
smooth sides and pull him closer into me. For all the
answers I wanted about his behavior, I couldn't fight the
physical magnetism between us.
"Right now, Red," he murmured, continuing to scrub
every little inch of me with his sponge and totally ignoring
his own state of dress. "I need to wash the smell of Lucas
from your skin so that when I get you all sweaty and
wrapped around my dick, I can pretend you're entirely
mine."
Oh yup. Yeah, that was a quick way past my guard.
He dropped the sponge, backing me further into the
water as his fingers took over the task of washing me. Or...
getting me dirty again, depending on your perspective. His
long digits slid inside my still aching pussy, stroking me as I
shuddered in his arms.
"Jesus," I hissed when my cunt throbbed in response to
his touch.
Cass let out a low, dark chuckle. "Nah, just a Saint."
"Oh my god," I groaned, pushing back from his grip to
glare at him. "You did not just dad-joke me while fingering
my pussy. Fucking hell, Cass."
His lopsided smirk was way too damn sexy in the low
moonlight, and I tugged his wet shirt up. "This needs to
come off," I informed him. "Right fucking now."
He quirked a brow at me but did as I asked, stripping
the soaked fabric over his head and displaying his fully
inked upper body. "Anything else while I'm letting you give
the orders?"
I scoffed, reaching for the waistband of his black jeans.
It took more effort than usual to unbutton them, given how
saturated they were—not to mention the way his erection
strained the seams.
"You really love tempting fate, huh? Take the rest off,
and I'll think about letting you fuck me tonight." I tilted my
chin back, my eyes meeting his with a clear challenge.
Cass gave a slow shake of his head, dragging his thumb
slowly over my lower lip like he was giving me an
opportunity to dial back the sass. He should have known
better, though. I just took it as my chance to double down.
"Or maybe I won't. Maybe I'll just head back and wake
Lucas up with my lips around his dick. Maybe I'll let him
finish what you've started here... seeing as I'm so damn
wet."
Cass's eyes narrowed, and in a lightning fast move he
spun me around and slammed me into the shower wall hard
enough to knock a little air from my lungs. His hot, hard
body blanketed me, his lips against my ear and his hand
around my throat.
"You're mine right now, Red," he growled, his jeans
rough on the backs of my legs and his chest hot against my
shoulders. That was all the warning he gave before he
slammed his cock into me from behind, grunting as he
slipped inside my wet, throbbing cunt.
The sudden intrusion made me gasp, but I arched my
spine and pushed back into him, silently demanding more.
My whole body still ached from my extended fuck session
with Lucas, but that didn't stop me from melting under
Cass's rough touch. He held me firm, one hand around my
throat and one hand on my hip as he slammed into me a
couple of times. Then he kicked my feet out further,
spreading my legs wider as he increased his pace, fucking
me until I was a moaning, panting mess against the shower
wall.
He released my neck, his hand sliding down my front to
play with a nipple as I shuddered and thrashed under his
touch. I was so damn close to coming I could barely even
form sounds, let alone words.
"Do you think about what I wrote in that letter, Red?" he
asked me in a darkly seductive whisper, his short beard
scraping over my shoulder as he kissed and bit my neck. "I
do. All the time."
I moaned, bucking my hips when his fingers found my
clit. "Yes," I panted.
His fingers stilled. As did his hips. Fuck.
"Yes, what?"
A low, frustrated and supremely aroused growl rumbled
from my chest. "Yes, sir," I corrected. "All the fucking time.
The other night I woke up after a dirty dream about you,
and I got myself off to the things you wrote."
There was a pause for a moment, then his lips moved on
my shoulder in another kiss. "Next time you do that," he
told me in a hoarse whisper, "send me a video."
My brows hitched, but shit, I was game. "Done."
Seeming satisfied, his hands smoothed over my wet hips,
gripping my ass in a way that might leave fingerprints, then
he slapped one of my cheeks hard enough to sting.
I let out a small yelp, and he hissed through his teeth at
the way my cunt contracted. It was too much fun.
"Shit, Red," he groaned, smoothing his palm over my
warm-ass cheek, his cock still buried deep within me. "You
have no idea how bad I wanna fuck your ass right now."
Even if I wanted to lie to him, my body betrayed me as
my pussy throbbed and tightened with excitement. He let
out a low laugh, sliding his hand over my skin until his
thumb stroked my back door, teasing.
Shit. Cass was going to be the death of me.
"Now I'm getting all sorts of ideas," he murmured, like
he was just thinking out loud. His hips started moving
slowly, fucking me in shallow thrusts and making me
squirm.
I groaned and pushed back onto him, encouraging him
to fuck me properly, and his fingers bit into my hip, holding
me firm.
"So impatient," he commented, slicking his fingertip
over my ass and applying a little more pressure this time.
Shit. Now I was thinking about waking Lucas up again...
and asking him to come join us. Not that Cass would ever
go for that, but the mental image was so nice.
When he finally decided to quit playing with me, he
pulled his dick almost entirely out of my pussy. Then
slammed back in hard, along with his finger in my ass.
"Fuck," I yelped, then braced my hands harder against
the wall and hung on for dear life as he worked me over
into a panting, shuddering mess as I came in long, drawn-
out waves.
He waited until I was nearly done before finishing
himself in several bone-rattling thrusts that buried his dick
so far inside me I could practically taste it.
For an extended amount of time, we just stayed like that,
our bodies locked together and plastered to the shower
wall as the water continued to fall. Both of us were
breathing hard, and I seriously questioned my ability to
stand up straight if Cass were to let go. But he had no
intention of letting go.
Gently, with one arm around my waist, he eased us back
into the shower spray and rinsed me off all over again. This
time he kicked his sodden boots off and stripped his jeans
down to leave him gloriously naked for my admiration.
"I'm gonna need a closer look at this," I murmured,
running my fingers down the side of his tattooed dick. "A
much closer look."
A sly smile touched his lips. "I thought I was on your shit
list, Red. Don't you want me to make it up to you first?"
He had a good point. I released his dick, and he scooped
me up in his arms.
"What—" I started to protest, then cut myself off. Fuck
it. I didn't need to ask dumb questions when I already knew
perfectly well what he was doing.
He bumped the shower off with his hip, then stepped out
and placed me down on the edge of the vanity. No words
were uttered as he spread my legs apart with firm fingers
on my thighs. His mouth locked with mine, our tongues
tangling in a violent kiss that made me feel like we shared
the same breath, then I slid my hand up the back of his
neck to grip his hair.
I gave it a sharp tug, pulling his face back enough that I
could meet his eyes. Then I shoved him to his knees in front
of me.
Cass gave a click of his tongue, like I was going to make
up for that move later, but he didn't argue, just hooked his
hands under my thighs and yanked me to the edge of the
vanity as he dove face-first into my pussy.
His tongue found my clit with shocking accuracy, and I
tipped my head backward as my legs draped over his broad
shoulders. I still fully intended to get to the bottom of his
mysterious absence before morning. But sue me if I wanted
to reap the benefits before starting that conversation.
Besides. Somehow, I knew Cass wouldn't truly hide
anything from me anymore. If I asked, he would tell me
everything. Our secret-keeping days were done.

OceanofPDF.com
31

W hen I eventually fell asleep once more, I


dreamed of stupid, meaningless things—
wandering through the vineyard at Demi's winery in
Tuscany and being chased by faceless men... but they
weren't anyone I was afraid of. In my dreams I was full of
happiness and light, laughing uncontrollably when one of
them tackled me to the grass and his huge hands burrowed
under my long, loose skirt as he showed me what it meant
to be caught.
I woke up with a gasp as a hot, hard cock slid inside me,
filling me up and making me moan. My legs wrapped
around a firm waist, pulling me closer before my eyes even
opened to meet Cass's dark gaze.
He didn't speak, just locked eyes with me, barely even
blinking as he pumped between my legs, every thrust
bringing me closer and closer to the orgasm that had
started in my dreams. The command was clear, and I forced
myself to keep my eyes open as I came, letting him see
every damn corner of my soul while I shattered to pieces
under him.
Only when my shudders subsided did his fierce
expression change, and a smirk touched his lips as he
fucked me faster and filled me up with his cum.
"You better have been dreaming about me, Red," he told
me in a rough, sleep-thickened voice after rolling to the
side. He tucked his arm around my waist, pulling me back
into his chest as he kissed my bare shoulder.
We'd fallen asleep sometime before dawn after spending
hours talking. Actually talking. It'd started out with casual
pillow talk and sexy banter, but somehow morphed into a
shockingly intimate discussion about our gang lives.
The secrets we’d shared would be enough to decimate
either of our empires, but I wasn't even the slightest bit
worried. Something I'd learned over the course of our
discussion was that I trusted Cass, really trusted him, the
way I trusted Zed. Maybe more, considering I still didn't
trust Zed with my heart. Not anymore.
I gave a small laugh, kissing his forearm where he had it
banded over my chest, holding me to him like he thought I
might disappear any second if he let me go.
"None of your fucking business, Saint," I replied before
gently biting his arm.
My stomach gave a loud grumble before he could
respond to that taunt, and I realized how starving I was.
Groaning, I rolled over in his arms and cupped my hands
behind his neck to kiss him long and hard.
"As much as I love waking up with you like this," I
whispered, feathering kisses over his cheek where a tiny
tattoo was inked near the corner of his eye. "I'm fucking
starving for something more filling than your cock."
Cass gave a mock gasp. "You take that back, Red," he
growled. "My cock is more than filling." He kissed me back
deeply, then released me with a sigh when my stomach
continued grumbling. "Fine. Zed's going to blow a gasket
when he figures out I broke into his fortress and spent the
night buried between his woman's thighs."
I shot him a sharp glare as I climbed out of bed. "Excuse
me? I'm not—"
"Aw," Cass wrinkled his nose and stretched out one of
his long arms to pat me on the head. "You're still in denial.
It's adorable."
He escaped out of the bedroom door a fraction of a
second before the pillow I threw had landed. Lucky.
Fucking Cass and Lucas were as bad as each other when it
came to Zed and me. Almost felt like they'd discussed it.
Shaking my head, I hunted out some clean clothes, then
headed to the bathroom to clean up the evidence of my
wake-up call. Nothing worse than messing up a fresh pair
of panties with sticky cum. Okay, that wasn't true. It was a
million times worse to sneeze an hour later and realize you
hadn't cleaned up that well.
Ugh. Dudes were so gross. Pity I was so addicted to the
dick.
When I got downstairs to the kitchen, I found Cass
sitting at the counter in his clothes from the night before--
dry now, thanks to me making him put them in the dryer at
some stage between him eating me out in the bathroom
and me choking on his dick back in my bedroom.
Lucas was pouring coffee for everyone, yawning and
looking gorgeously sleep-rumpled, and Zed was at the stove
flipping pancakes.
For a second I paused in the doorway, taken aback by
the strangely domestic scene the three of them cut. Then I
noticed the angry set to Zed's jaw and the forceful way he
slapped his spatula on the pancake he'd just flipped.
Cass had a decidedly smug look on his face as Lucas
handed him a coffee, not to mention the swelling in his
lower lip where I'd bitten him a little hard last night. Good
thing his tattoos covered the rest of the marks I'd left.
As for Lucas...
"Good morning, babe," he greeted me with a kiss and a
cup of coffee. Then he kissed me again deeper, his hand
grabbing a handful of my ass as he took his time. "I missed
you when I woke up." He whispered this in my ear, and my
cheeks flamed hot.
Zed dropped a fry pan onto the stove with a clatter and
glared at me. "Can I have a word in private, boss?"
Crap. I'd completely forgotten Cass saying he'd found
one of our Wolves in possession of PCP last night.
"Yep," I replied with a nod, stepping away from Lucas's
hold.
Zed stormed past us, leading the way through the house
to his home office, which he rarely used. I reluctantly
followed, knowing he was about to lay on a guilt trip that I
rightfully deserved. I'd dropped my responsibilities last
night in exchange for some dick. Seriously mind-blowingly
good dick, mind you. But still unacceptable for someone in
my position. People depended on my leadership. There was
more at stake in the success of the Timberwolves than just
money.
He slammed the office door shut after me, and I arched
a brow at him. Yes, I deserved a bit of attitude for dropping
the ball, but—
"We need to talk," Zed snapped.
"We do," I agreed. "Who was it?"
He jerked around to face me from where he'd started to
pace. The expression on his face was complete confusion.
"Who was what?"
I frowned back at him. "The kid caught with angel dust
at Anarchy. Had he already been cleared by Alexi?"
Zed blinked at me a moment. Then shook his head.
"That's not what I wanted to talk about."
"Oh." I rubbed the bridge of my nose, thrown off. "So,
what do we need to talk about?"
The look he gave me said that he was actually
questioning my intelligence for a hot second, then he
closed the gap between us in three strides and grabbed my
waist with both hands, holding me close as his chest rose
with an emotion-heavy breath.
"I want you to do me a favor, Dare," he said in a rough
voice. "For thirty seconds, thirty seconds only, I want you
to be perfectly honest with me. Will you do that? Will you
give me just thirty seconds of raw honesty?"
There was so much vulnerability and desperation in his
voice that there was no way I could even considering
denying such a simple request. So I looped my arms around
his neck, hugging him back as I nodded. "Of course, Zed.
Whatever you want to know..." I shrugged. Whatever he
wanted to know I was happy to tell him because it killed me
when we hid things from each other anyway.
But instead of asking me a question, he carefully,
deliberately, placed his lips against mine. I froze, confused
as hell, then I finally understood what was going on. He
didn't want my honesty in mere words that could be so
easily twisted and misinterpreted. He wanted my truth in
actions. He wanted to feel it in my kiss.
And I'd agreed. Because he was one of the few people on
the planet who I truly loved, so I couldn't... there was no
way I could deny his request. So I kissed him back.
As I responded, kissing him exactly the way I'd been
quietly wanting to do for longer than I cared to admit, the
tension noticeably dissolved out of his tightly wound frame.
He melted into my touch, his arms sweeping around my
waist as he pulled me closer and groaning when my teeth
scraped his lower lip.
He’d asked me for thirty seconds of honesty, and that's
what I gave him—or thereabouts. Then I pulled on my
deepest well of strength and pushed him away, breaking
our kiss.
"Did you get the answer you wanted?" I asked him in a
hoarse whisper.
His eyes flashed with anger and frustration, and he
jerked a nod. "And then some."
Fuck me, my nipples were hard to the point of painful as
I stared back at him while mentally scolding my pussy for
getting so wet over one kiss.
"Good." I licked my lips and folded my arms. "Then don't
do it again."
Zed stared at me for a long moment, disbelief written all
over his face. Then he gave a short, humorless laugh. "I
never took you for a masochist, Dare."
He didn't mean it in the physical sense, but that was
how I chose to interpret. "Well then, I guess you don't know
me as well as you think." I quirked a brow, thinking about
how good it felt when Cass smacked my ass or slammed me
against a wall.
Zed shook his head, his eyes blazing with fury. "You can't
keep pretending there's nothing more between us, Dare.
This is too real."
I tilted my chin up, stubborn as fuck. "I can, Zed, and I
will. I won't lose my best friend over this. I won't ruin what
we've got by mixing sex into the equation."
He groaned, stepping closer again, and cupped my face
in his hand. "It's already ruined, Dare." His voice was husky
and raw. Honest. "I can't ignore the way I feel about you,
and in case you missed the point here, let me spell it out. I
don't love you. I'm in love with you. No amount of hard-
headed denial will change that. Neither will the added
complications in the kitchen right now."
Panic chased through me, elevating my heartrate and
making my palms sweat. I parted my lips, ready to disagree
with everything he'd just said, but he was quicker.
"Don't even think about denying the truth of that
statement either," he murmured, smoothing his thumb over
my lower lip in a move that echoed all the way down to my
pussy. "I know you feel the same way."
"Since when were we in a position to get everything we
want, Zed?" I asked with an edge of bitterness. "And really?
Right now? This is the moment you choose to confess your
feelings for me after all the years we've had together. You
wait until some fucking ghost of my ex is waging war on my
empire and two other men are vying for my affections? And
you thought... shit, why not?"
He withdrew slightly, frowning his objection. "What?
That had nothing—" He cut himself off with a sigh and
stepped away to run a hand over his short hair. "Yeah,
actually you know what? Yes. Now. Because without all
those extenuating circumstances, nothing would have
changed. It probably would have taken me years to confess
how I felt because I knew that I had your heart. You may
have been fucking other guys, but you didn't care about
them. You didn't trust them. You didn't love any of them."
My brows shot up so high they almost dropped off my
face. "I don't love anyone else now."
He blinked at me. "Don't you?"
It wasn't a question, it was a challenge.
I scowled. "This is childish, Zed. Quit pushing me on
this, or you'll push me away entirely."
His jaw tightened, and the muscles in his neck tensed.
"Fine. Ball’s in your court, Dare." I started to leave the
office, but he stopped me when my hand was on the door
handle. "But in the meantime I'd ask a courtesy from you.
As my friend, of course."
My eyes narrowed as I turned back to face him. "Of
course." I gritted the words out with heavy sarcasm.
"What's the favor?"
He cocked one brow at me. "Don't fuck them in my
house. If I have to spend one more morning lying in bed
listening to you come on another man's dick..." He trailed
off with a short laugh, shaking his head in disbelief as he
stepped closer once again.
Stubborn as ever, I met his gaze and raised my chin
defiantly. "And if I do? What will you do about it, friend?"
A sly smile tweaked his lips as he braced his hands to
either side of me on the door. Two months ago I'd have
punched him for such a deliberately imposing move, and if
anyone else had done it, I might have shot them. Yet now...
now I was having a hard time convincing my pussy she
wasn't about to meet any new friends today.
"The next time I hear you moaning and panting while
you ride some other guy's dick?" He leaned in closer, his
face right beside mine as he whispered his threat... or
promise. "I'll have to come in and join you." He moved away
again and shot me a knowing wink. "Food for thought...
friend."

OceanofPDF.com
32

A fter my little chat with Zed, I lost a good portion of


my appetite. I mean, not enough that I pulled a
dumb-girl move like skipping the meal entirely, but I
was woman enough to admit the food didn't sit as
comfortably as I'd have liked. Not with all the eyes on me,
making me squirm.
It made me seriously question what the actual fuck I'd
been thinking by getting so intricately tangled up with
three men at such a god-awful time for my personal and
professional life. But then Lucas stretched and his shirt
rose up to show off his deep V and chiseled abs and I nearly
choked on my coffee.
Yeah. That'd do it.
My phone rang somewhere in the living room, so I made
a speedy exit out of the kitchen to answer it. When I saw it
was my new lawyer calling, I swallowed a groan of dread.
Still, I took the call and brought my phone to my ear.
"Gen, what's new?"
"I'm at Pink Panther," she told me, naming one of my
smaller clubs in Shadow Grove. It had formerly been a
sports bar, and I hadn't done a whole lot to change it up.
Hell, it wasn't even a Copper Wolf venue; it was just a
Timberwolf bar and infrequently visited by anyone outside
the Wolves.
It also wasn't open at this time of day. "Why?" I asked,
anxiety twisting my stomach.
She breathed a sigh. "You’d better get down here," she
told me. In the background I heard the distinctive sound of
police sirens and I stiffened. "I tried to handle things as
best I could, but... this is getting a bit beyond my abilities,
boss."
As new as Gen was to my company, she'd slotted in
effortlessly, so much so that sometimes I forgot just how
fresh she was.
"I'm on my way," I told her, rushing back through to the
kitchen to wave a hand at Zed. "Give me the key points I
need to know, Gen."
Zed gave me a nod of understanding, and I raced back
upstairs to get dressed with Gen on speakerphone outlining
how an "anonymous tip" to the SGPD had resulted in an
early morning raid of the club. They hadn't found the guns
and cocaine that the tip had promised, but there was a
hefty package of PCP found stashed inside an empty beer
keg.
"Fuck," I swore as I ended the call to Gen. I hurried my
ass back downstairs, clipping on my gun holster on the way
and holding my high heels in my fingers to put on in the
car. I'd done the bare minimum on makeup, favoring speed
over perfection but enough that I was fully put together for
anyone searching out cracks in my armor.
Cass was waiting in the foyer when I reached the
ground floor, and I could see Zed's Ferrari already idling
out the open front door.
"Need backup?" Cass asked, quirking that scarred brow
I liked so much.
I flashed him a quick grin. "Nah. Only if I need an alibi
for my whereabouts last night." I meant it as a joke, but
then realized I might actually need it and grimaced.
Cass gave a short nod. "Understood. I'll take the
Gumdrop to do something productive while you're gone."
I rose up on my toes to smack a kiss on his lips in
thanks. He wasn't babysitting Lucas, he was taking a worry
off my plate. And I doubted Lucas's safety was going to not
be a worry for me anytime soon. Not with Chase, or
Wenton, still gunning for me.
"You're the best, Saint."
He huffed. "Thank me later, Angel."
I hurried through the front door and found Lucas talking
to Zed beside the open driver’s door of the Ferrari. As I
approached, Zed handed Lucas a Glock 19 and gave him
some firm order that had Lucas glancing back up at Cass.
No doubt Zed was instructing him to get lessons from my
Grumpy Cat.
For all his macho bullshit in his office this morning, Zed
didn't actually want Lucas to wind up dead. And I
appreciated that.
"Stay safe, okay?" I told Lucas when he turned to me
with a reassuring smile.
He nodded, holding the gun carefully at his side. "I'll be
fine. You stay safe." He leaned down and kissed me quickly,
then jogged back into the house where Cass was waiting
for him.
Zed and I slid into the car, and he gunned it out of his
driveway, only pausing for the front gates on their painfully
slow motor.
"Where are we going?" he asked, not having heard my
call with Gen. He'd jumped into action with just that one
wave and look from me, not second-guessing me for even a
moment.
"Pink Panther," I told him with a frustrated sigh.
"Apparently a sizable package of PCP was found there this
morning after an anonymous tip to the SGPD." He gave me
an incredulous look, and I scoffed a humorless laugh. "My
thoughts exactly. Gen was trying to handle it for us, but
she's in over her head."
Zed jerked a nod of understanding. "Well, I have to
say"—a smug grin pulled at his lips—"I'm pretty glad I went
ahead and installed those surveillance cameras last
month."
I rolled my eyes, biting back a grin. He'd suspected
someone on the staff at Pink Panther had been smoking in
the storeroom, which kept fucking with our fire sensors. So
he'd installed hidden cameras to find the culprit, and I'd
told him it was overkill because we had bigger problems on
our plate.
The shithead was going to be so damn smug if those
cameras found whoever had really planted the angel dust
on my property. Then again, I'd rather deal with smug Zed
than go to jail for an obvious setup like this.
This was unlikely to be the last attempt at framing me
for shit, though, so we needed to tighten security on all of
our properties, which was going to become a hell of a job
for Dallas, seeing as I wasn't sure who the fuck else to trust
these days. At least with him, I felt secure in the knowledge
he was too intelligent to be manipulated by Chase—or
Wenton. I'd already rescued him once from the Wraiths;
he'd have to be a total idiot to double-cross me now, not
with a baby and defenseless wife at home.
The vibe between Zed and I remained strictly business
as we made our way across Shadow Grove to the Pink
Panther. That we could switch back into Timberwolf mode
so easily and leave the emotional crap at home gave me
some small glimmer of hope.
When we arrived, several cop cars with their lights
flashing sat in the parking lot, while a multitude of
uniformed officers milled around the property. Gen was
standing near her sensible white Lexus, her arms folded
under her breasts and her toe tapping the concrete in
irritation as she spoke to one of the officers. Her face
brightened when she spotted Zed and I, though, and the
cop turned to look at where she was nodding.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't Detective Douchebag," Zed
crowed, rubbing his palms together as he approached the
uniformed officer in a menacing way. "Why am I not
surprised to find you harassing our newest team member?"
Officer Shane Randall—who was not a detective and
clearly sour about that fact—scowled at Zed, then gave me
a respectful nod. "Hades, we didn't expect you to show up
in person."
Gen clicked her tongue in frustration. "I told you I'd
called her. You simply didn't listen."
Officer Randall flicked an annoyed glare at Gen, then
shifted his attention back to me. "Well. If your new
employee has already filled you in, I'm sure you understand
why we will need you to come in for questioning regarding
the large supply of drugs found on your premises."
"I'll be doing nothing of the sort, Shane," I responded in
a cool tone, kicking one brow up. "These sloppy frame jobs
are starting to leave a sour taste in my mouth." I indicated
for Zed to head inside. He could retrieve the camera
footage from the closed-circuit recording, and I had no
doubt he could handle anyone who wanted to try and stop
him.
Officer Randall gave me a tight, humorless smile. "I
don't know what you're talking about, Hades. This was on
an anonymous tip, and—"
I cut him off with a scoff of laughter. "Your acting skills
need some work too. Don't worry; we've got this one
handled." I smiled wide, full of confidence because when
Zed installed those cameras a month ago, the storeroom
had been cleared entirely for a deep clean. Whoever placed
the drugs would be on that recording, clearing us of
culpability.
Officer Randall glared death back at me, hooking his
thumbs into his gun belt, which was cute, considering how
I could probably shoot him three times before he even
pulled his weapon out.
"Gen, you can head home if you want." I offered my legal
counsel. "We'll be done here shortly. Shane needs to try
harder next time. His boss will be so displeased with this
failure."
Zed came striding back across the parking lot, a
satisfied smirk on his lips and a thumb drive between his
fingers.
"Sorry that took a hot second," he said, reaching us and
handing the USB drive to me.
"What were you—" Officer Shane started to ask, but Zed
cut him off with a finger over his lips.
"Shush, Detective Douchebag. The adults are talking."
Shane smacked Zed's hand away from his face and
glared pure venom at us both. "Touch me again and I'll—"
"You'll do nothing Shane," I told him in a glacially cold
voice. "The only reason you're still alive right now is that
you serve a purpose. Don't test me, or you can join your
brother in the underworld."
Officer Shane's face reddened with anger, but he wasn't
smart enough to talk his way out of this situation. He used
to be on the Wraith’s payroll and had close ties to Madison
Kate's deranged stalker. We let him live because we knew
how dirty he was. It was like a flashing neon sign
screaming that a case or a crime scene was being meddled
with by someone outside my organization.
"Gen, can I borrow your tablet?" Zed asked politely, and
our lawyer quickly pulled the device from her handbag to
hand over. When her fingers brushed Zed's on the
handover, her eyes widened and a flirtatious smile touched
her lips for a split second before she wiped it clear.
Shit. Gen was crushing on Zed.
Like a secure, well-adjusted adult, I shoved aside the
niggle of territorial jealousy and focused on the current
situation. Zed plugged his drive into the tablet and brought
up the recording on the screen.
He must have already done a quick scan through for our
culprit while he was inside because he navigated the video
to a precise point from just twenty-four hours earlier.
"Here we go," he announced, hitting the play button.
The storeroom was brought up in color—as it'd been
daytime when the recording took place—and showed stacks
of liquor stock in cartons and a neat pile of beer kegs in the
corner.
A moment after the recording started, the door opened
and our regular delivery guy wheeled in a cart with three
fresh kegs stacked up on it. He took them over to the side
of the storeroom, unloaded them, then started loading the
empty ones onto his cart.
Then someone else entered the room wearing a ballcap
and carrying a sports bag over his shoulder. The newcomer
went straight to the "official" security camera in the
opposite corner to where Zed's extra camera was placed
and switched it off before exchanging some words with the
delivery guy.
Money changed hands, then the delivery dude left with
only two of the three empty kegs. Alone, the second man
quickly closed the storeroom door, then placed his bag
down on the ground and unzipped it. From it, he pulled a
large package that I could only assume to be the PCP in
question. He unscrewed the top of one of the empty kegs,
dropped the wrapped package inside, then closed it up
again.
Just as he exited the room, he turned and gave Zed's
extra camera a full view of his face. Which Zed paused the
video on.
"Uh-oh," he murmured, sarcastic as fuck. "He looks
familiar."
Officer Shane let out a string of curses, and I arched a
questioning brow at Zed. He just shot me a secretive wink,
and Shane bellowed across the parking lot, shouting for
one of the officers on site.
My brows rose in surprise, and I gave Zed a look.
"Seriously? That's ballsy."
He smirked. "On my way in I spotted him looking
sketchy as hell as he pretended to search through the bar
stock. It was easy enough to guess the drugs would have
been planted recently. They wouldn't risk them sitting there
to be found by anyone else."
Gen gaped. "That was really smart thinking, Zayden."
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from reacting. Zed
was watching me for it, too, that prick. I bet he was already
fully aware Gen had the hots for him, too. He was always
aware of women's attention.
"Looks like someone isn't going quietly," I commented,
nodding at the entrance where an officer had just tried to
make a break for it, only to be tackled by another of his
colleagues. The quick-thinking officer knelt on the slimy
bastard’s back and cuffed him, his movements rough as he
relieved the suspect of his gun belt and jerked him to his
feet.
Officer Shane took over, pushing the drug carrier across
the parking lot to one of the squad cars, then locking him
inside. He stomped back over to where we stood watching,
amused as hell, and his face was like pure thunder.
The other cop—the one who'd tackled our drug planter—
was shouting commands for the other cops to clear out of
my bar, and they were scurrying like rats.
"Look," Officer Shane snapped, coming back to stand in
front of us with his hands tightly balled at his sides. "I've
made mistakes in the past, and I'm well aware of that. But
for what it's worth"—he dropped his tone lower, keeping
the volume down so only we could hear—"I'm not as dirty
as you think. This setup wasn't me."
I pursed my lips, giving him a long look. "Why do you
feel the need to tell me this, Officer Shane?"
His face darkened like it was physically paining him to
admit fault. "Because some bad shit is going down, and I'd
rather be on your side. I'm trying."
I tipped my head to the squad car one of his own
colleagues was currently locked up in and gave him a
pointed look. "Seems to me like you could be trying harder,
Shane."
The officer just grunted and held out his hand to Zed for
the thumb drive. My second gave a laugh and shook his
head, though.
"Sorry, Detective Douche, I think I'll hand-deliver this to
your captain after I send myself and the commissioner
some copies. Can't be too careful when it comes to the
SGPD, now, can we?" Zed smirked and tucked the thumb
drive into his pocket.
Officer Shane just gave an exasperated sound and
stomped off back toward his squad car.
The uniformed officer who'd done the tackling strode
over to us when most of the cop cars started departing my
parking lot. He held his hand out for me to shake, his eye
contact steady.
Curious, I shook his hand and gave him a mental check
mark for not going limp-wristed when shaking hands with a
woman.
"Hades," he greeted me in a gruff voice, "I apologize for
meeting you under these circumstances. I'm Lieutenant
Jeffries; we've spoken once by phone."
He was a bulky, middle-aged African American man with
a face that seemed to be permanently creased into a frown,
but based on the way he held eye contact, either he was the
best actor I'd met to date or he had nothing to hide.
Dear lord. Had I just met SGPD's first totally uncorrupt
cop? He was a recent transfer from out of state, so maybe
it was possible.
Nah. Some things were too preposterous to suspend
disbelief over.
"Lovely to meet you in person, Lieutenant Jeffries," I
responded with an indifferent expression. "I'll send over an
invoice for any damages your men caused here today. I
trust that won't be an issue for you."
His eyes tightened, but he jerked a nod. "Understood,"
he muttered. "I look forward to a peaceful working
relationship with your company in the future, Hades.
Hopefully, this hasn't discolored that." He indicated to the
Pink Panther and the fact that an officer on his team had
been the one to plant the drugs.
"We'll see," I replied, tilting my head to the side and
holding his stare without blinking or smiling.
The lieutenant delivered a few polite greetings to Zed
and Gen, then gracefully excused himself from our
company.
He drove away with a small wave, and the three of us
remained in the parking lot until he disappeared into the
distance.
"Holy shit," Gen said on a long exhale. "I had no idea
how I was going to get you out of that drug charge. Maybe
I'm not experienced enough for this role after all."
"Nah," Zed replied before I could. "You're still new;
you'll learn."
Gen gave him a bashful smile, and I tried really hard not
to side-eye Zed. The shithead was trying to play me, and it
wasn't going to work.
"Actually, while I have you both here..." Gen slid her
tablet back into her bag and tucked the strap over her arm.
"I heard a rumor about why Allied Insurance rejected your
claim on 7th Circle. But it's just a rumor right now. I'm
trying to gather hard supporting evidence of this."
"Spit it out," I ordered, my tone slightly harsher than it
needed to be. Goddamn Zed flashed me a look, too, and I
groaned inwardly. "We tend to find where there's smoke,
there's fire," I explained, evening my tone out.
Gen nodded her agreement. "Well, apparently the FBI is
looking into you as a person of interest. The fire
investigation ruled it arson—of course—and someone's
pointing the finger at you. Especially with your building
being bombed, too. All the detonation points were on your
parking level, you were identified at the scene..." She
trailed off with a shrug.
I quirked one brow. "I thought you handled that."
"I did," she responded quickly. "But this is some other
department. Like I said, it's all just rumor for now. I'll keep
my eye on things, but in the meantime, just... be careful."
I kept my expression neutral as I thanked her and
walked back over to Zed's Ferrari, but internally I was
rolling my eyes. No shit, Gen. All I'd ever done in my whole
freaking life was be careful and cover my ass. I wasn't
about to stop now, no matter what the distractions were
like.

OceanofPDF.com
33

M y phone buzzed with a text message as Zed and


I were leaving Pink Panther. A flash of panic
jolted through me when I saw it was from Cass,
and I held my breath as I opened it up.
Cass: Taking Gumdrop to the range at SS KJ-Fit.
I wrinkled my nose, trying to understand. Then I clicked
that he meant the newly opened MMA gym on the south
side of Shadow Grove. Kody had bought an old rifle range
with a huge warehouse space and had converted it into his
newest branch of KJ-Fit, complete with a parkour course
and shooting range.
"Cass is taking Lucas to the southside KJ-Fit," I told Zed.
He gave a lopsided smirk. "Probably decided to teach
him how to shoot. You want to head over there? Been a
while since we've tested our marksmanship."
Oh man, I could never say no to a challenge like that.
"You're on. I bet you're rusty as fuck. When's the last time
you even needed to shoot someone?"
Zed scoffed a laugh. "Seriously? Last night. Trust me, if
one of us is rusty, it ain't me."
"Bet me on it, then." I cocked my head and gave him a
challenging grin. "If you're so confident, lay down some
odds."
He gave me a sharp look, like he wasn't sure if I was
being serious or not, then gave a soft laugh and shook his
head. "Alright, smartass. Hope you and your big dick
energy are ready to be taken down a notch."
"Cute. That won't be happening." I grinned because out
of everyone... yeah, Zed could beat me on this. He was an
impeccable marksman, one of the best. And it had been a
decently long time since I'd actually practiced at a range.
He shrugged. "Well then, you'll have nothing to worry
about. Of course, if you lose..." He hummed as he thought
up an appropriate punishment. "If you lose, then you have
to learn a routine from Maxine and perform at Club 22 on a
Friday night."
My brows shot right up into my hair. "What? No."
Maxine was one of our senior dancers at Club 22. Senior in
that she had been with us for the longest, not that she was
old. Hell, she was probably younger than me. She was
crazy popular, though, and headlined our Friday night
shows, making them a packed crowd week after week.
"No?" Zed smirked. "Guess you're not so confident after
all. Tell you what, if I lose, I'll do the same."
My lips parted in surprise. But... shit. That was too good
to pass up, wasn't it? Beat Zed in a target-shooting
competition and see him shake his ass on stage? Maybe
Lucas could give him some tips.
"In Maxine's costume?" I taunted, pushing the bet even
further.
Zed laughed. "Deal. Sequined nipple pasties and all."
I groaned. "Something tells me this is a bad idea... but
you're on, De Rosa. I hope you've been paying attention to
Lucas's moves because there's no way in hell I'm losing
now."
He just grinned, his eyes on the road ahead of us. Smug
fuck was so confident he could win. I might have to play
dirty.
Leaning forward, I cranked up his stereo to eliminate
any more talking. I wouldn't put it past Zed to try some
psychological warfare to get into my head before we
reached the range. I mean, I would have done the same, if
not for the fact that right now it was likely to backfire on
me.
We arrived at KJ-Fit half an hour later and parked beside
Cass's bike. I squinted at it, then noted two helmets. Too.
Freaking. Cute. I was actually devastated I'd missed seeing
Lucas curled around Cass like that. Oh hell yeah, that was
a mental image to file for later.
Zed gave me a knowing look, then led the way inside the
warehouse, where we found a group of sweaty dudes
standing around and EDM music booming from the
speakers. It wasn't hard to spot what they were watching.
Above a thick crash pad in the gymnastics area, a
shirtless Lucas hung from a wide bar, nine feet in the air, as
he worked his way through a seriously impressive aerial
routine, spinning, flipping, letting go, and catching himself
over the horizontal bar like something out of the
Olympics… which he had been training for. His muscles
bunched and flexed as he smoothly transitioned through
moves in time to the music, his face set with concentration
and a ball cap somehow staying tucked backward on his
head throughout.
I wanted to scold him for disobeying doctor's orders yet
again, but at the same time I just wanted to stand there
and gape at his skill—and his body—like the other
spectators. So I just brushed past a couple of the guys who
were calling out encouragement and glared up at him with
my arms folded over my chest.
"Oh shit," Lucas muttered, locking eyes with me and
knowing damn well he was in trouble. He swung around
the bar a couple of times, then executed a flawless
dismount onto the mat. "Hey, babe!"
Several of the guys watching had scurried back to their
own workouts when they'd spotted Zed and I enter, but a
couple were still standing around and gaped in shock at
Lucas calling me babe.
Which he made worse by crossing the mat and stooping
down to kiss me straight on the lips. Yes, I probably could
have avoided it. But I didn't want to. I loved Lucas's free
and easy affections. He didn't give two shits what my
reputation said about me because he knew me.
"You're in trouble, Wilder," I muttered when he released
my lips. "Where's Cass?"
"He's over at the range talking to some dude from his
gang. Hey, did you know I'm a natural at the whole
shooting thing?" He grinned, clearly proud of himself, and I
gave him a suspicious frown.
"Sure you are, Gumdrop," Zed replied, clapping Lucas
on the sweaty shoulder. "Come on, Hades, we've got a bet
to settle." He said that last part loud enough to draw the
attention of literally everyone within earshot, and I
glowered at his back. Prick was deliberately drawing a
crowd to try and throw me off my game.
"What's your bet?" Lucas asked, walking beside me as I
followed Zed through the massive gym to the far door
leading to the shooting range.
I cast another look at him, taking in the backward cap,
the low-slung black sweatpants with sneakers, the bare
chest—albeit marked up with scars now. Goddamn, he was
gorgeous. "Uh, Zed and I are just having a friendly wager
on who has sharper targeting."
Lucas's eyes widened, and his smile hitched wider.
"Well, shit. This will be entertaining. What's the bet?"
I groaned. "Just trust me when I say you want me to win
this." Not that I was insecure with my body or my ability to
learn Maxine's routine—I was a decent dancer and
confident enough to strip on stage—but I really wanted to
make Zed do it. Just the mental image of him in a sequined
G-string and nipple covers had me giggling internally.
We found Cass just inside the range, chatting with a
tatted-up older dude cleaning a series of handguns on the
table in front of him.
"Saint," I snapped, my voice cracking through the space.
His head jerked up, his eyes meeting mine instantly. "A
word."
He inclined his head in acknowledgement, then excused
himself from the conversation he'd been having. His strides
were long and lazy as he closed the space between us, his
gaze predatory.
"Hades," he politely greeted me, like we were nothing
more than professional acquaintances. He tipped his head,
indicating we head through the fire exit door so we could
speak privately, seeing as we had plenty of eyes on us
already after Damn Zed announcing to the whole damn
gym that we had a bet.
I waved a hand, telling Cass to go first, and I followed
him. When we stepped outside, I pulled the door shut
behind us to cut us off from everyone inside.
"You okay?" he rumbled, closing the gap between us and
sliding one of his huge hands into the back of my hair. "You
look tense."
I glared up at him but slipped my hands under his shirt
to grip his waist and pull him closer. "I am tense," I replied.
"I just found Lucas showing off his gymnastic skills in the
gym and potentially messing up his internal stitches. I
thought you were teaching him how to shoot?"
A dark, sexy look flashed over Cass's face, and he
tugged on my hair gently. "I was going to."
"So what happened?" I asked, tilting my chin up. Fuck, I
wanted to kiss him. When did I become so obsessed with
this huge, grumpy fuck? When did he start smiling more? It
was totally intoxicating.
"What happened at your venue? Seemed serious when
you left with Zed." He gripped my hair tighter, brushing his
lips over mine teasingly and making my whole body quake.
"Cass," I breathed. "Are you going to kiss me or just
tease?"
He huffed a short laugh, then quit messing around. His
lips coaxed mine apart, his fingers in my hair controlling
my head as his tongue lashed against mine and his huge
frame crashed me against the door.
I arched my back, leaning into him as he kissed me
breathless, my short fingernails clawing at his muscular
back as I lamented all the clothing between us.
"Christ, Red." He broke away from my lips with a groan.
"You're the sweetest addiction, you know that?" He stroked
his thumb down the side of my face, then dragged it across
my lower lip. His dark gaze locked on my mouth, and I
knew his thoughts were just as sordid as my own. The thick
hardness between us spoke volumes, and I was so
incredibly tempted to drop to my knees right there in the
service road between warehouses.
"Raincheck this," I told him, reaching between us to
squeeze his dick. "What happened with Lucas?"
Cass grunted but didn't move away. He just braced his
forearms on the door to either side of my head and held my
gaze steady. "Turns out he already knew how to shoot. He's
no Zayden De Rosa, but he's sure as fuck no amateur. He
knew exactly what he was doing—good stance, good grip,
wasn’t affected by recoil like anyone shooting for the first
time should be—until I handed him an unloaded gun. Either
he’s a great actor or he’s never loaded a magazine. Strange
as fuck, Red."
I wrinkled my nose. "He never mentioned learning how
to shoot."
Cass arched a brow. "He says he hasn't, just that he
played a lot of video games as a kid."
"Speaking of Zayden De Rosa," I muttered, "I made a bet
with him. Any chance I can get you to cause a distraction
when he shoots? I'm quickly losing confidence that I can
win this."
Cass pulled back a few inches, his eyes widening
slightly. "Oh, this is going to be interesting." He ran a hand
over his short beard, a touch of a smirk touching his lips.
"I'll see what I can do."
Flashing him a grin, I smacked a quick kiss against his
lips. "You're the best, Saint."
He let out a low, primal growl and bit my neck slightly
harder than teasing. "Don't you fucking forget it either,
Angel."
Grinning, I pushed him away so I could open the door,
and he took a second to adjust his pants to try and hide his
boner before following me back inside the shooting range.
Zed was already chatting with one of the staff as he set
up two targets for us, looking relaxed as all hell. Shit, he'd
totally played me.
"Ready, boss?" he asked with a confident grin.
I rolled my eyes. "Actually, I want to see Lucas shoot
first. Our bet can wait a couple of minutes, right?"
"I'm not going anywhere," Zed replied, his voice loaded
with meaning. "I'll wait as long as it takes... to win."
I scowled at him, letting him know I hadn't missed the
double entendre, then waved Lucas closer.
"Alright, Wild child," I teased, "show me what you've
got." I nodded to one of the fresh targets that had just been
set up.
Cass handed Lucas the Glock that Zed had given him
earlier in the day, and I watched him carefully as he
handled it comfortably. There was no awkwardness in his
grip and no uncertainty in his posture as he stepped into
position.
I shot Cass a look, and he just raised his brows as if to
say, See what I mean?
"Here," I said to Lucas, snagging a pair of earmuffs from
a hook and slipping them over his ears. He gave me a smile
of thanks, and I put a pair on myself before he took aim and
started shooting.
As Lucas took his first shots, Zed's posture shifted, his
spine stiffening and his attention more focused. Lucas
finished and placed his gun to the side, then pressed the
button to return his target for assessment. I doubted Zed
was any more surprised than me to see the accuracy of his
shots on the paper target.
They weren't perfect by any means, but they were good.
Far too good for a first-time shooter.
"Lucas..." I tugged my earmuffs off and frowned at the
hole-filled paper.
"I have no idea," he told me before I could fully
formulate my question. "I swear, I've never shot a real gun
before. Like I told Cass earlier, I used to be crazy obsessed
with this first-person shooter game my uncle gave me as a
kid. It came with a pretty realistic gun controller, and I got
decently good at it." He shrugged. "This just seems super
similar; that's all."
Zed and I shared a look at Lucas's explanation, and Zed
ran a hand over his head. "What was the game?" he asked.
Lucas shrugged. "It was something with a futuristic or
sci-fi vibe. Project X or Code Gray or something like that. I
dunno. Why? You wanna get it to improve your rusty
marksmanship?"
Zed glowered, and I bit back a snicker of amusement.
"If you think of the name, I'd like to check it out," I told
him with a hand on his still bare chest. "Now, could you
pretty please put a shirt on so I can beat Zed in this dumb
bet?"
Zed scoffed a laugh, swapping out Lucas's target for a
fresh one. "Oh, now it's a dumb bet, huh?"
I scowled in his direction. "Shut up and shoot, De Rosa."
From the corner of my eye, I spotted Lucas talking to
Cass as he pulled his T-shirt on and Cass's vaguely
surprised gaze flicking over at me. What in the shit were
they discussing?
"Ladies first," Zed said in a quiet purr, indicating to the
fresh target back in place at the far end of the room. "Best
of three? Otherwise this will be over way too quick."
I narrowed my eyes, searching his face for whatever
fucking tricks he had up his sleeve. As always, though, he
gave nothing away. So I gritted my teeth and stepped up to
the same place Lucas had just shot from. I still wore my
high heels but didn't bother taking them off. I actually had
better aim while wearing them because that's what I was
used to.
Planting my feet shoulder-width apart, I slid my
earmuffs back on and drew my Desert Eagle from my
underarm holster.
Before I raised it to aim, though, Lucas brushed up
against my back as he reached past me to grab his
earmuffs where he'd left them on the little hook. I tipped
one of my ear covers off slightly and gave him a curious
frown.
"Sorry, babe," he murmured. "Left these here." His arm
brushed mine as he leaned in closer. "Also, you look so
fucking sexy right now all I can think about is bending you
over this little bench and fucking you from behind." He
whispered the sexy confession right against my ear, and an
instinctual shiver ran through me, ending right in my pussy,
which throbbed in excitement.
"Anyway, I'll let you get on with it," he said, brushing a
kiss over my cheek. "Good luck, Hayden."
Crap. Hearing my name on his lips like that was such a
fucking turn-on.
I swallowed heavily as I resituated my earmuff and
focused on the target ahead of me. There was no real need
for fucking around with lining up my sight and shit; this
was all second nature to me now, just a simple matter of
raise my weapon, aim, fire. Over and over.
When I was done, I placed my gun down, pulled my
earmuffs off, and hit the button to return my target to me.
"Not bad," Zed commented, standing all up in my
personal space as the target whizzed back toward us. "I
mean, you're definitely a bit rusty. But I think we all are.
We haven't been practicing anywhere near as much as we
used to."
The mocking in his tone was so thick I wanted to punch
him in the mouth. I wasn't going to bite, though. There
were countless eyes on us from the viewing window on the
side that led to the main gym, and even here we needed to
maintain our professional, united front.
"Shut up," I muttered. "Your turn."
I pulled my target sheet down as Zed stepped up to his
own alley and started firing almost instantly, not even
taking a few seconds to get in the zone.
Sure enough, he won that round. Not by much... but a
win was a win. Motherfucker.
We reset both our targets, and I stepped up once more.
This time, Cass positioned himself right in my peripheral
vision, leaning on the bench a couple of alleys down from
where I was shooting.
I could feel the intensity of his gaze, and when he
cupped his junk—seemingly just to rearrange the crown
jewels—I simmered with annoyance. Those bastards had
ganged up against me. Somehow, probably while I was
outside with Cass, Zed had swayed Lucas over to the side
of evil. And Lucas had convinced Cass. Those fuckers were
trying to throw my concentration, and it was working.
My glower in Cass's direction told him I was well aware
of what he was doing, but he just shrugged and gave me
one of his sly, sexy as hell smirks.
"You gonna shoot any time soon?" Zed teased from my
other side. "Pretty sure the range is due to close any
minute now."
Flipping him off, I set my feet, raised my gun, and
squeezed off a series of shots that already felt better than
my first round. Thank fuck Zed had suggested best of
three.
He fired his rounds while my target returned to me so
we could compare them simultaneously. When we
determined that I'd won that round—by the most miniscule
of margins—Zed shot an accusing glare in Cass's direction.
"Don't blame him," I scolded him. "You should be trying
to win on your own merits, not trying to derail me."
Zed arched a brow, then inclined his head. "Fair enough.
Last round." He extended his hand, indicating for me to
shoot once more. Except this time as I brushed past him to
take my place, he paused me with a hand on my waist. "I'm
really looking forward to seeing you on that stage, friend.
You can't imagine the number of times I've pictured you
taking your clothes off for me."
His fingers stroked over my stomach, somehow finding a
sliver of bare skin where my blouse had come untucked,
and I needed to clench my jaw to hold back the hyper-sexed
groan that wanted to escape in response to that touch.
Fuck. He had me this time.
I stepped up to my mark, but my focus was shot to hell.
All I could picture was what it'd be like to strip for Zed.
Would he sit back and watch or want to lay his hands all
over me as I danced? I knew he had an exhibitionism kink,
but would he also enjoy watching me with other guys?
Would he get hard watching me grind on Lucas? On Cass?
Shit.
We shot off our last rounds simultaneously, and our
targets whizzed back to us just a split second apart. I only
needed one glance at Zed's smug fucking face to know he'd
won.
"Fucking hell," Lucas commented, inspecting the six
targets all lined up on the table. "You two are insane. Zed
won this by less than a millimeter. That's scary-perfect
precision."
Cass gave a huff of a laugh. "There's a reason Zayden De
Rosa was offered a place in the Guild, Gumdrop, and it
wasn't for that handsome face of his."
Lucas's brows shot up. "You were?"
Zed gave an easy shrug. "I wasn't interested." His sly
smile flicked over me. "Shall I let Maxine know to set up
lessons, or will you?"
I flipped him off, then shot a glare at both Cass and
Lucas. "You're all on my shit list today. You know why."

OceanofPDF.com
34

I t was a couple of days later that I snapped. I'd


been following through on my end of the dumb-as-
fuck bet with Zed and was at a brutal dance
lesson with Maxine when I got a call from Gen that I had
been waiting on but dreading.
"They've denied your claims on all the cars," she
informed me with regret in her voice. "The investigator is
claiming you're the responsible party for bombing them all.
The FBI has started looking into you as a suspect, and
today they assigned an agent to tail you."
My fingers tightened on my phone, fury and frustration
rippling through me. I'd already had Dallas try to pull any
CCTV footage around the apartment that would clear me of
the bombs, but everything had been wiped clean.
Everything. Not even traffic cameras could support my
innocence, and that in itself only seemed to incriminate me
further. Especially with my neighbor as an eyewitness
placing me outside the building at the time.
"Thank you for letting me know, Gen. Just be careful
with your inquiries; the last thing I need is you getting
dragged into this mess." My voice was underscored with
clear anger, but I meant what I said. I loved that she was
going above and beyond her job description—exactly as
Demi had promised she would—but I didn't need to be
responsible for her going to jail with me.
"Absolutely, boss," she replied. "This info came from an,
um, old friend of mine. He won't tell anyone that I know,
and the intel is solid."
I grimaced. "You're the best."
Ending the call, I tried to draw a couple of calming
breaths to center myself before turning back to Maxine.
"We're going to have to push this off a week," I told her
with a grimace. "I have a feeling my afternoon is about to
get bloody."
She pursed her ruby-red lips at me but gave a short nod.
"Not next week," she told me, tapping her long fingernail
on her chin. "You have the main event fight at Anarchy. It'll
have to be the week after."
I sighed. "So be it. I'll deal with my insufferable second
over the bet."
Maxine smirked. "I'm sure he won't mind waiting. It'll
give you more time to perfect that lay back on the pole. You
still look all stiff and awkward instead of effortless and
sensual."
I gave her a hard look, and she just fluttered her lashes
back at me. Having worked for me for close to three years,
she was getting a good read on what lines she could safely
push, and I respected her intelligence for paying that much
attention.
"Careful, Maxine," I teased back, "I might get a taste for
this and steal your headline slot."
She gave a mock wail and pouted. "Please don't. You're
already set to triple my best tip night on a fucking bet
performance. Her gaze ran down my body in my
activewear. "With those tits, that ass, and your perfect, sexy
killer face? Ugh, you'd have me unemployed in no time."
I snickered briefly. "Lucky the boss likes you, then. And
this is a one-time show."
She shrugged. "Unless you go losing any more bets with
Zed. I have to admit I'm glad it was you who lost. I wouldn't
be able to keep a straight face trying to show him how to
do body rolls."
Well. There was a mental image I’d never known I
needed and now couldn't get out of my brain.
Gathering up my things, I left the empty club and
stepped out into the parking lot with my phone in hand,
dialing Dallas. He didn't answer my call, so I sent a text as I
slid into the Audi.
Hades: Check if Wenton Dibbs is back in the
country. I have a feeling he is.
Because I seriously doubted these strings were being
pulled from overseas right now. Nah, this was all a part of
his grand sabotage plan; he'd be on the ground here
somewhere, watching and waiting. He was trying to push
me into making a rash move, but he was underestimating
my patience.
Dallas didn't reply until I was already back at Zed's
house, and I paused halfway through changing my outfit to
read what he'd sent.
Dallas: Done. You're right. Landed late last night at
a private airstrip outside Cloudcroft.
Dallas: Got a positive ID off the airstrip security
camera. It's Wenton Dibbs.
Surprise rippled through me, and I stood for several
moments staring down at his text before replying to him.
Hades: How positive?
Dallas: There's always a margin for error, but three
different programs gave a positive match to Wenton
Dibbs. I'll send the image over.
I held my breath, waiting for the freeze-frame image to
come through on the message, and Lucas appeared in my
doorway.
"Is everything okay, Hayden?" he asked, his face filled
with concern. He'd been to see his mom while I was at my
dance lesson, and his eyes were tight with exhaustion.
"Yeah," I replied, nodding. "Yeah, just... Dallas managed
to finally get a CCTV image of Wenton."
Lucas's brows rose, and he came further into the room.
"He did? That's good news, right?"
I blew out a breath, tapping my phone on my palm.
"Yeah, I guess so. I just..." I trailed off, not wanting to voice
my vulnerable thoughts out loud.
He wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me in
the safe circle of his arms and letting me rest my face on
his chest. But then I remembered the dark, healing scar of
his brand was right in front of my nose—hidden by just a
thin layer of T-shirt fabric—and it lit me up with confusion
all over again.
"I don't get it, Lucas," I muttered, wrapping my own
arms around his waist and holding him tighter. Guilt
washed through me again as I thought about how close I'd
come to losing him before I'd even realized how much I
cared. "Why would Wenton be on a vendetta like this? Why
impersonate Chase to fuck with my head?"
Lucas didn't answer immediately, then gave a sigh. "I
can't even start to speculate." He pulled back slightly and
cupped my face with his hand. "The human mind is a
fucked up thing, babe."
There was an edge of distress in his gaze and a
bitterness to his voice that made me frown. "Hey, what
happened with your mom? You seem upset."
He gave a small headshake. "It's not important. She was
just having a bad day, I think. The MS is messing with her
memory and making her think I'm my uncle. He was her
older brother, and I think they were pretty close when they
were kids."
I reached up and stroked my fingers through his hair,
wanting to comfort him but knowing full fucking well that
didn't come naturally to me. "What does she say when she
thinks you're him?"
Lucas gave a headshake. "Just... nonsense. Shit that
makes zero sense at all. I keep trying to ask her about Jack
being in the Guild, but it never goes well. She just… yells
accusations at me—him—that she won’t let him anywhere
near her babies anymore." He gave a frustrated sigh. "I
don't know. It sounds totally insane... but if I was an
outsider listening in? It sounds like my uncle Jack did
something to hurt me when I was a kid."
I bit my lip, my heart hurting for him. That was a lot like
what it sounded. I was almost positive Sandra knew her
brother was in the Guild, too.
"But then she was going on about hurting her babies.
Plural. And I was an only child, so... I have no idea. Maybe
there's something else going on with her. The clinic asked if
they could run some more tests and make sure they didn't
miss anything in her original diagnosis." He sounded so
resigned to it all. And so guilt-ridden.
"Lucas, you can't accept responsibility for your mom's
medical condition," I told him gently. "Life just dealt her a
crappy hand. That's not on you."
My phone buzzed and I pulled back from Lucas's
embrace with an apologetic look. "Sorry, it's..." I clicked
into the message and opened the still image Dallas had
sent. "It's... Wenton." It really was, too. Dallas had also
included some files he'd managed to dig up on Wenton
Dibbs, and I clicked into those as I sank down onto the
edge of the bed.
"What is it?" Lucas asked, sitting down beside me and
keeping one hand on my waist like a physical sign of
support. "Medical records?"
"Yeah," I replied, scanning over the documents. "How
the fuck Dallas accessed these, I have no idea. But it
explains a lot... I think? It sounds like Wenton suffered
some serious abuse as a kid—no real shock, knowing the
Lockharts—but since then has been in and out of
psychiatric care with delusions that he was actually his
dead cousin, Chase Lockhart."
"Shit," Lucas breathed. "That's... intense. Zed's
downstairs; want me to grab him?"
I stood up, my mind whirling as I tossed my phone onto
the bed. I was only half-dressed in my yoga pants and bra,
and if I was going to go kill a ghost from my past, I needed
to look the part.
Without answering Lucas—because my attention was
already a million miles away—I went over to my closet and
started hunting for the right outfit to confront my
tormentor in. To deal with the man who had taken on
Chase's identity and grudges and made them his own.
Whatever psychological trauma had caused Wenton to
follow this path, he'd done the damage. It was on me now
to end it and exact retribution for the offenses he'd caused.
Lucas said something else, but I wasn't listening, and a
moment later he left my room.
I dressed carefully, selecting a pair of second-skin
leather pants and a bra-top that consisted of two dozen
straps and buckles. My hair went into a tight braid, and my
makeup was heavy on the eyeliner and scarlet lips.
Zed stomped into my room as I sat on the end of the bed
to lace up my thigh-high boots and jerked to a stop when he
locked eyes with me. Then his gaze ran over me with so
much intensity I could almost feel it as a physical caress.
"You look like you're dressed for murder tonight, boss,"
he commented, keeping his tone casual as he watched me
meticulously lace up my second boot. I needed them tight
because I hated the feeling of thigh-high boots slipping
down and scrunching.
"You know me so well, Zed," I replied, calm as the eye of
a storm. "I take it Lucas filled you in."
Zed jerked a nod. "He did. Wenton Dibbs."
"Wenton Dibbs," I repeated back. I didn't want to dwell
on what this meant for me... for my memory. Because now I
was starting to second-guess a lot of things I'd classified as
fact. If Chase could make Wenton's death feel so real, what
else had he fooled me on?
"I'm coming with you," Zed announced. "Don't fucking
leave without me."
I finished my boot and stood up. "No, I need you here."
He froze in the doorway. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me. I'm going alone, and you're staying here
with Lucas in case Wenton sees me coming and tries to
grab him again." I jerked my chin up, my gaze hard as I
dared him to disobey me. This wasn't about us though. This
was business, and Wenton had fucked with my business one
too many times. Or... that's what I was trying to convince
myself.
Zed stared at me for a long moment, neither of us
blinking. Then he closed the space between us and grabbed
my face with a rough grip. "Stop it," he snapped. "Just
fucking stop. After everything we've been through together,
you seriously think I'm going to sit on the sidelines and
babysit your fucking boy toy while you put your life on the
line again? No. Hell no. Don't even think about pushing this
issue, Dare, or I swear I'll knock you out and handcuff you
to my bed until you wake the fuck up and see that you're
not alone. You've never been alone."
I held his intense gaze, my expression hard and
unyielding despite the way he gripped my face like a rough
lover. I eventually blinked and gave a small nod. "Good. I
hoped you'd say that. Go arm up; I want this fucker dead
before close of business."
The tension radiating through Zed flooded out, his
shoulders dropping and his fingers releasing my chin.
"Thank fuck." Then he grabbed my braid and crushed his
lips to mine for one of the hottest goddamn kisses of my
life. "Don't test me like that again, Dare. I won't hold back
next time."
He kissed me again, making my heart pound against my
ribs and my breath catch, then released me to race out of
the room.
In his absence, I raised a shaking hand to my lips,
tasting his kiss still there.
"Get Lucas a vest and a gun!" I shouted, my voice full of
steel that my body wasn't sharing in that moment. "We're
not taking chances."
This ended now. Wenton Dibbs was a dead man.

OceanofPDF.com
35

C old determination coursed through my veins as I


stalked through the front entrance of Locked Heart
Enterprises. The metal detectors screamed, and a security
guard tried to stand in our way. His hand had barely even
brushed the Taser on his belt when Zed disarmed him. By
the time the elevator doors slid open, the guard was
handcuffed to a chair with his own cuffs and had a gag over
his mouth.
Lucas stuck close to my side as I stepped into the
elevator and stabbed at the button for the thirty-second
floor.
"Cass is on his way," Lucas told me, checking his phone
as I stood there watching the display tick off each floor
level. "He wanted us to wait for him."
"Not our fault he wasn't around when we left Shadow
Grove," Zed commented as he checked his gun and
tightened a strap on the knife holster strapped to his thigh.
"This is nothing we can't handle without him," I
murmured, my eyes locked on the floor display. We were
almost there. "I don't care how many delusions of grandeur
Wenton has had in recent years, he's still no match for us."
Of that I was confident. If it were Chase himself, it'd be
a very different matter. But Wenton... nah. It explained why
he'd been taking potshots at me from a distance; he knew
he wouldn't stand a fucking chance if he came at me head
on.
The elevator dinged a cheery sound to announce we'd
arrived, and I drew a deep breath as the doors opened and
I raised my gun. But there was no one in the reception area
for Locked Heart Enterprises. The lights were off and the
desk sat totally vacant; not even a computer was set up.
Unease rippled through me as I cautiously made my way
to the main office floor, only to find it equally as empty. It
was midafternoon on a Friday; there was no way this office
should be empty. Hell, the desks didn't even look like they'd
ever been used. Blank, lifeless monitors were set up on
each one with identical swivel chairs neatly in place, but
otherwise there was absolutely no evidence that this office
was in use.
"What the fuck?" Lucas whispered, his eyes darting all
around and his gun at his side.
"Stay alert, Gumdrop," Zed snapped. "This could be a
trap."
"It is a trap," I murmured back. But I didn't turn and
run. This wasn't the sort of trap that would end in my
death. Wenton had put too much effort into playing with me
to end it so soon. I wasn't anywhere near scared enough
yet to die.
I continued further into the vacant office, but Lucas
grabbed my arm to stop me before I could get far.
"Hayden, if it's a trap, then we should go." His eyes
radiated concern, and even Zed hitched his brows like he
wanted to agree with Lucas.
Fuck that. I didn't come this far to tuck tail and run at
the first sign of danger. Reckless? Yes. But what a boring
fucking life I'd be leading if I always took the safe path.
Besides, I was no amateur with delusions of heroism. I
knew my skills and my limitations. I wouldn't have come
this far if I weren't confident I could handle whatever nasty
tricks Wenton had up his sleeve for me.
I shot Lucas a reassuring wink. "Just stay alert, Wilder.
We got this."
He reluctantly released my arm but didn't try to argue
anymore as I led the way through the empty office, gun at
the ready. A short corridor gave access to some closed
offices, but the one at the end was my focus. It was the only
office with the door open, and from where I stood, I could
already see someone sitting at the desk, just the top of a
head above the high-backed chair. I trained my gun on that
swatch of hair.
After stepping through the door, I swiftly moved aside so
Zed could sweep for any potential threats. But there were
none. No armed thugs hiding behind the door, ready to
shoot us on sight. No trip wires rigged to explosives either.
That I could see, anyway.
"Sorry I didn't make an appointment," I said aloud,
returning my gun to the bit of Wenton's head that I could
see. "I figured you'd be expecting me sooner or later."
He gave a low, amused laugh that sent a ripple of dread
rolling through my body. As he laughed, he spun his chair
around, and my heart shuddered to a complete stop inside
my chest.
"You always knew me so well, Darling," he replied with a
sly grin, linking his fingers on the desktop as he sat
forward. "We really are so evenly matched."
My gun waivered as my palms turned slick with sweat,
and a tiny quiver shook my knees. "Chase," I croaked.
His smile pulled wider. "In the flesh, Darling girl. You
should have double-tapped, then followed up with a chest
shot." He clicked his tongue in reprimand, pointing a finger
at his scarred forehead and the leather eye patch covering
his left eye.
He was right. I knew better than to fire one shot and
expect it to have done the job. We'd always been taught to
fire at least three bullets to ensure our target was dead, not
just badly injured.
The tense silence hanging between us was abruptly
broken as several ceiling panels dropped with a crash and a
half-dozen heavily armed men surrounded us in a flash. But
their guns weren't on me. They were on Zed and Lucas. Not
even Zed could shoot his way out when he was that
outgunned in such a small space.
"Gentlemen, please escort my fiancée's friends back
downstairs. I'd like to speak with her alone." Chase
delivered his order with all the casual nonchalance of
ordering a turkey club sandwich for lunch.
I already sensed Zed coiled, ready to fight to the death,
so I wrenched my gaze away from Chase to nod at my
second. "Go," I told him, flicking my eyes over Lucas to
include him in my order. "Now."
Zed's lips parted, the defiance clear on his face, and I
hardened my glare to silently communicate just how badly
he was not to undermine me right now. He got the message
—he always did. But that didn't mean he liked it.
His nostrils flared with anger and his jaw ticked with
tension, but he jerked a short nod. "Understood, boss." His
furious gaze shifted past me to the dead man at the desk.
"That's it, Zeddy," Chase taunted, "be a good lapdog and
do what your mistress says. Some things never change, do
they?"
Zed was so close to throwing his life away and shooting
Chase where he sat, I could feel it. Hell, I was tempted too.
But the second one of us fired our weapon, all three of us
would be dead. And that wasn't the outcome I was still
hoping for tonight.
"Zed," I warned him, my tone low. "Take Lucas and go."
"Yeah, Zed," Chase repeated. "Oh, stripper boy, I almost
didn't recognize you without all the blood covering your
pretty face."
"Just go," I snapped, giving Lucas just as hard of a look.
He was angry and scared, but this wasn't his fight.
Zed put his gun away and stuck his hands up to show his
escorts he was unarmed—sort of—then turned both hands
around to flip Chase off. One of Chase's men slammed the
butt of his rifle into Zed's stomach, making him double
over, and I kept my spine straight, refusing to react.
Neither Zed nor Lucas protested any further as they left,
and I steadied my arm as I kept my gun trained on Chase.
We didn't speak. We just stared at each other, and that
creepy, cold smile sat on his lips like he was thoroughly
enjoying himself.
A few moments later the elevator dinged, echoing
through the empty office floor, and Chase let out a sigh.
"You can drop the act now, Sweetness. We're alone." He
sat back in his chair, relaxed as all hell, and nodded to my
gun. "We both know you're not going to shoot me, so just
put it away. Or better yet, hand it over. It's mine after all."
My mouth went dry. It had been... once. Then I’d
grabbed it from him in our fight and shot him in the face
with it, and it'd been my closest companion ever since.
"How?" I asked, my voice hoarse. "How did you
survive?"
He cocked his head to the side, his one eye trained on
me like a laser sight. "You'd have known if you'd taken the
time to finish me off properly, Darling." He tapped his
forehead. "I never did tell you that I was born with a
section of my skull missing. Doctors fixed it with a titanium
plate. Luckily for me, your bullet hit that plate and
ricocheted. Took my eye, of course." He waved at the eye
patch. "But kept my brain from turning into scrambled
eggs. How's that for good karma, huh?"
My stomach flipped like I was going to vomit. "Nothing
you've ever done in this life would earn you good karma,
Chase," I told him with disgust. "Why didn't you burn in the
fire?"
He sat forward again, totally ignoring my gun and
drumming his fingertips on the desk. "The fire that killed
my whole family, you mean?"
I narrowed my eyes. "If it helps, your parents were
already dead. Too quickly, now that I think back on it."
"My little sisters weren't," he commented, holding my
gaze.
I steeled my spine, freezing my expression to hide my
lingering guilt and regret over the younger Lockharts
entirely accidental deaths. I should have done things
differently, should have somehow gotten them out, gotten
them safe, before going after Chase. But in the heat of the
moment...
"I should just finish the job now," I commented, looking
down the barrel of my gun at my ex-fiancé. At my worst
nightmare and my first love.
He shrugged. "You could. Of course, the FBI agents that
have been tailing you all day will probably arrest you
before you leave the building. I was organized enough to let
them know you'd be stopping by here today and that we
have history. That combined with my company
underwriting the insurance claims that were just denied..."
He let out a low whistle. "That'd be a slam dunk guilty
verdict, don't you think? And now correct me if I'm wrong,
but I don't think the infamous Hades has managed to
strong arm the entire state's justice system."
I gave a cold smile in reply. "Yet."
His answering smile was a hell of a lot more amused
than mine. "Yet. Well, in the meantime I think I'll keep
taking advantage of the situation."
Fury coursed through my veins like lava, but the cold
chill of fear had pooled in my stomach and stiffened my
joints. I would probably miss if I tried to shoot him; I was
that tense. So with a brittle smile, I tucked my gun away in
its holster where it was safely away from Chase's reach. No
way in hell was I giving it back to him. He could pry it from
my cold, dead hands.
"What the fuck do you want, Chase?" I asked in a bored
tone. I'd be damned if I let him see how terrified I was of
him... of everything he reminded me of. I wasn't her
anymore. I was Hades, and no ghost would shake me. Not
visibly, anyway.
He pushed back from his desk, stood, and sauntered
around to close the distance between us. I drew a silent
breath, letting the air fill my lungs and ground me as he got
closer with every step. Chase and Zed were the same
height, six foot three, and I needed to tip my head back to
maintain eye contact, even with the advantage of my high-
heeled boots.
"You're a smart girl, Darling," he told me, condescension
dripping from every word. "What do you think I want?"
He lifted a hand to stroke a finger over my cheekbone,
trailed it down my neck, over my collarbone, then followed
the straps of my bra-style top all the way down to my
exposed midriff. A deep shudder ran through me at his
touch, and I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to
bleed so I could maintain my calm, indifferent facial
expression.
"Who knows with you, Chase," I replied in a hollow
voice. "I take it those medical records were all a work of
fiction, along with that CCTV image of Wenton."
He gave a low chuckle. I used to love that laugh. It used
to light me up inside and make me crave more. Now,
though, it just turned my stomach.
"Wenton," he murmured. "Poor, stupid Wenton. I'm
shocked you even fell for that red herring, Darling. You saw
me shoot him." His smile was pure evil. How in the hell I'd
ever loved this man when the very devil himself resided
within his skin, I'd never know. "But you didn't know what
to believe, did you? Someone suggested Wenton was still
alive, and suddenly you were second-guessing everything
you knew." The glee in his voice was sickening.
"What do you want, Chase?" I asked again. "These silly
games, blowing up my property, leaving cryptic notes...
those are just an amusement for you. So excuse the turn of
phrase, but cut to the chase. What do you want? Revenge?
Believe me when I tell you I'm a hell of a lot harder to kill
now than I was then. I won't forget to finish you off this
time around."
He crowded my space, leaning in like he wanted to kiss
me, and I stubbornly refused to step back from him. My
days of being intimidated by Chase Lockhart were long
gone, never to be repeated.
Goddamn, I wished that were true.
"You think I want revenge, Darling?" he asked, his voice
thoughtful and slightly hurt. "You think I want to do what
you did to me? Kill everyone you love, then come after
you?"
I clicked my tongue, sending a malicious smile right
back at him. "I didn't kill everyone you loved, Chase.
Suicide was never in the plan for me."
His one good eye hardened with anger, but he managed
it with ease, not letting it out and giving me the satisfaction
of seeing him loose his cool. Instead, he splayed out his
hand on my bare side, gripping my flesh with a rough hold,
and pulled my body against his.
"I don't want revenge, Darling. How utterly pedestrian
and clichéd of you to assume I want you dead." His hold on
me shifted, as the whole length of him crushed against me,
and his excitement at our confrontation was growing all too
evident between us. "I don't want to kill you, Hayden. I
simply want to take back what was mine all along." He
paused for dramatic effect, but I already knew what he was
going to say before the word left his painfully perfect lips.
"You."
Swallowing the heavy lump of fear and disgust in my
throat, I tugged a short blade free from my thigh sheath
and stabbed it into his leg right beside his groin. Chase
didn't even make a noise, the sick fuck, nor did he take his
hands off me.
"Put your hands on me again, Chase, and my knife will
be a quarter inch to the left. You've bitten off more than
you can chew this time, and I will finish what I started five
years ago." My voice was practically glacial, my gaze hard
and unflinching. He wouldn't get even a whiff of fear from
me. Never again.
His lips curled in a smirk. "Not today, you won't."
He gave a small grunt of pain when I jerked my knife
out, releasing him from the threat of slicing through his
femoral artery. Unblinking, I wiped my knife on his shirt,
then tucked it back into my sheath.
I gave a casual shrug. "I'm patient. Watch your six, babe;
I'll be coming for you."
Spinning on my heel, I stalked out of his fake office with
my head high and spine stiff. Yet the sound of his maniacal
laughter followed me all the way down to the foyer and
would probably stick in my brain forever.
For all my bravado, I was a trembling mess inside. I was
in way, way over my head.

OceanofPDF.com
36

S tepping out onto the sidewalk, I spotted Zed and


Lucas hovering beside the car, waiting for me.
Several of Chase's men lurked in the lobby, their
weapons still in hand, keeping the threat present to stop
my guys from storming back into the building to rescue me.
Frowning, I paused there on the sidewalk, turning back
around to give each of Chase's guys a closer look through
the glass doors. It wouldn't hurt to commit those faces to
memory for later. He'd recruited them from somewhere...
One of them, standing just outside the foyer entrance
with his shoulder propped casually against the glass, met
my gaze and gave a small inclination of his head.
"Have a good evening, Hades," he murmured.
I tilted my head to the side, studying him closer but not
recognizing him at all. How curious.
The roar of a motorcycle coming down the street pulled
my attention away from the strangely polite personal
security, and I looked up to find Cass flying toward us. He
pulled up with a screech of rubber, his dark eyes fierce on
my face until they locked onto my bloody hand.
I shook my head. "Not mine."
He huffed. "Get on."
Looking past him to Zed and Lucas, I gave them a nod to
tell them to follow, then swung my leg over Cass's bike. As
he revved the engine, Chase's man gave me a small salute,
and I filed his face away for later. There was something odd
going on there.
Lucas and Zed slid back into the car as we peeled out of
the street, and within a few minutes they’d caught up to us
on the highway back to Zed's house. It was a long drive,
but the roar of the motorcycle meant I could just cling onto
Cass's broad, leather-covered back and work through
everything in my mind. I could deal with my damage the
way I'd always done—alone and silent.
By the time we got home, I was calm and collected, fully
back in control.
I climbed off Cass's bike with legs stiff from a three-hour
drive, but he didn't give me a chance to stretch it out, just
grabbed me by the waist and hauled me against him, his
mouth crashing into mine with the sort of desperate,
possessive kiss that spoke volumes about how wound up he
was.
"You pull a stunt like that again—" he started to
threaten, and I cut him off with another deep kiss, letting
him fully consume me and turn my whole damn body to
jelly in his arms.
I'd sorted my shit out internally. I'd stuffed all the messy,
ugly emotions and memories back in their boxes and locked
that shit up tight. But my body had yet to get the message
until Cass held me like I was the missing piece to his soul,
reminding me that I wasn't doing this alone. Not this time.
A sharp realization jolted through me, and I broke away
from his kiss, my eyes locking with Zed’s as he climbed out
of his Mercedes.
"I need to talk with Zed," I told Cass in a husky voice.
"Then I want to get stupid stoned and pretend everything is
okay."
Cass dropped a kiss against my collarbone, his rough
beard tickling my skin. "Done." He climbed off his bike and
gave a shrill whistle to Lucas. "C'mon, Wilder. I'll teach you
how to roll a joint."
Lucas scowled at Cass's back as Cass sauntered up
Zed's front steps to let himself into the house. "I'm not a
fucking puppy, asshole," he snapped when Grumpy Cat was
out of earshot, then paused to give me a troubled look. "Are
you okay, Hayden? Did he—"
"I'm fine," I assured him in a soft voice. The fact that he
was concerned for me after facing the man who'd tortured
and nearly killed him? That spoke volumes about his
selflessness.
Lucas gave a small nod, but his frown didn't ease. He
just headed inside, and I knew I would need to talk things
out with him soon. I kept forgetting how innocent he was.
He didn't grow up with danger and violence like the rest of
us.
Zed came over to stand in front of me, his eyes heavy
with pain and guilt, but he said nothing. For all my
determination to speak with him honestly, the words all just
evaporated off my tongue. Instead, I reached out and
wrapped my arms around his waist, hugging him tight and
tucking my face against his chest.
He only hesitated a fraction of a second before hugging
me back. His strong arms banded around me, and his face
rested against my hair like he was inhaling the scent of my
shampoo.
"What happened after I left?" he asked eventually, his
voice rough with emotion.
I swallowed heavily and lifted my face away from his
chest to meet his eyes. "Fuck all. Just... Chase playing out
his lifelong fantasy of becoming a Bond villain. How
dramatic was that whole reveal?" I rolled my eyes, trying to
lighten the mood.
Zed gave a watery smile, then pulled my arms away
from his waist and held my bloody right hand up between
us. "His?"
"Of course," I murmured, curling my fingers around his.
"He wasn't walking away from that unscathed. Not a
goddamn chance."
This time Zed's smile held more warmth. "Good."
He brought my hand to his lips and kissed the side of it
gently. His eyes were locked on mine, heated and intense,
and it was on the tip of my tongue to confess my reciprocal
feelings. But something held me back, as always. Maybe it
was just that I didn't want Chase overshadowing that
pivotal moment for us. Maybe I was just a coward, scared
that I'd end up losing my best friend when it inevitably
went sour.
"Zed," I whispered. "Thank you." I meant that thanks
more than any I'd ever given in my life. There was so much
loaded into those two words, as well, way more than I could
even start to unpack, but he understood. He always did.
A small head nod, and he tugged me inside the house.
We were good again. The tension between us could wait for
another day because it sure as fuck wasn't going anywhere.
But goddamn, it felt good to know that our friendship
remained solid underneath it all. So far, anyway.
"This seems like a really bad idea," Lucas was saying to
Cass as we made our way through to the courtyard where
they'd lit the fire pit. "Shouldn't we be laying booby traps
or, like, cleaning our guns or making a plan or something?
Getting fucked up feels like a stupid move. What if that
psychopath attacks while we're all stoned out of our
minds?"
Cass shot him a look with a tiny smile on his lips, then
ran his tongue along the edge of the joint he was rolling to
stick the paper down. "Damn, Gumdrop. You watch too
many movies."
Lucas gave an exasperated sound, threw his hands up,
and looked to me to talk some sense into everyone.
I just grinned and swiped one of the bottles of beer from
the table to take a sip. "Cass has a point," I said with a
shrug. "Besides, Chase isn't going to attack us tonight. Not
here. He's made his point, and now he'll lull us into a false
sense of complacency before he strikes again. It's... it's his
pattern. Just trust us."
Zed eyed the cold beers that Cass and Lucas had
brought out, then murmured something about needing
stronger booze. His hand brushed the bare skin of my
lower back as he moved past me, and I couldn't help the
delicious shiver of arousal that rippled through my body.
He was right. The damage was already done. Our
friendship was never going to go back to what it was, and I
was strangely okay with that.
"Nope," Cass said, plucking the beer bottle out of
Lucas's fingers before it reached his lips. Lucas looked
ready to argue, but Cass handed him the freshly rolled joint
instead. "Smoke first, then drink, or you'll end up cross-
faded as fuck."
I snorted a laugh, stepping over Cass's legs to drop my
butt down on the lounge between them. "He's got a point,
Wild. You're not used to it, and you don't want to end up
sick."
Lucas pouted but lit the joint anyway. He inhaled,
holding my gaze with hooded eyes, then blew it out in a
long exhale. "Is this what it'd be like dating a girl with
older brothers?"
I grinned at the analogy, and Cass draped his arm
around my shoulders, kissing my neck.
"Sure, if we're talking non-blood-related step-brothers
who get to fuck your girl whenever they want. It’d be just
like that." His fingers trailed down my bare arm, making
my skin tingle and my thighs tighten.
I gave a small sound of disagreement, though.
"Whenever you want? Think again, Saint." I shoved his
hand off my shoulders just to keep the power balance in
check and leaned over to kiss Lucas right after he'd taken
another deep drag on the joint.
Inhaling the smoke directly from his lips, I gave a small
groan and leaned in to kiss him harder. Yeah, that was
exactly what the doctor had ordered after staring down my
worst nightmare back from the grave. Drinks, weed... and
sex. Hopefully. I hadn't forgotten Zed's threat if he heard
me riding dick again in his house, but I could be so quiet if
I needed to be.
"Fucking hell," Cass muttered, reminding me that Lucas
and I weren't actually alone. "Never thought I'd be down
for this poly shit."
I sat back against the cushions where his long arm was
still draped, giving him a curious side-eye. "And now?"
He held my gaze as he took a long swallow from his
beer, then licked his lips. "Jury is still fucking out," he
rumbled.
I snorted a laugh, taking the joint from Lucas's fingers
as Zed returned carrying a bottle of Scotch and a couple of
glasses with ice cubes. He sat down across the fire from us
and poured triple shots into each of the glasses before
handing one over to me. I swapped him for the joint, and he
took a drag before passing it across to Cass.
"So what happens now?" Lucas asked, slouching into the
corner of the outdoor lounge.
I took a huge mouthful of my liquor and let it warm a
fiery path down to my belly before I answered him. "I have
no idea," I admitted softly. "This isn't something I could
have prepared for. He's ten steps ahead, and I... I have no
clue what to do."
Cass curled his arm around me again, pulling me into
his side and dropping a kiss to the top of my head. "We'll
kill him." He said it as casually as if he were talking about
washing his car.
Zed scoffed. "Obviously." He shifted his gaze to me.
"We're not solving anything tonight, though. So let's stick a
pin in it until tomorrow and just chill."
I took another gulp of my Scotch and winced at the
burn. "Fine by me," I agreed, snagging the joint from Cass's
lips.
"Gumdrop, why don't you tell me more about that video
game your uncle gave you," Zed suggested, refilling his
drink, then standing up to fill mine as well.
Lucas scowled. "Are you guys going to stop calling me
that anytime soon?"
Cass huffed a husky laugh. "Unlikely."
He and Zed shared a smirk, and I shook my head at
them both. "Fucking save me if you two become friends," I
muttered with a groan. "But I am interested if you have
anything more to tell us, Lucas."
He shrugged, taking the joint when I offered it. Zed
jerked his head to Cass, and Cass tossed him the little
leather pouch he kept his weed and rolling papers in.
"It was just a pretty normal first-person shooter," Lucas
told us, "like Call of Duty, but with hyper-realistic graphics.
The only real difference was that cool game controller that
legit simulated a real gun, but I think that was some
prototype thing that Uncle Jack’s best friend was
developing. He worked for some big tech company, if I
remember right."
My brows hitched, but the weed and liquor were hazing
my brain already and my reaction was dulled by that. Still...
it was lighting up my curiosity something wicked. Knowing
now that Lucas's uncle was in the Guild, I had to wonder if
that “game” wasn't actually some experimental training
simulation.
"You think my uncle was grooming me to become a
mercenary?" Lucas asked, reading my mind perfectly.
Zed sat back in his seat, kicking his boots up on the
edge of the table. "That's what it sounds like."
"Who got you into gymnastics?" Cass asked, his fingers
stroking a teasing pattern over my upper arm.
Lucas frowned, his eyelids heavy. "I don't remember. I
would have assumed my mom, but now you're making me
wonder if Uncle Jack had something to do with it."
I locked eyes with Zed across the fire and sensed he was
on the same thought path I was. "Maybe we could reach
out to the Guild?"
He grimaced. "We need to tell them about the gun haul
anyway. No way am I game to steal Guild property."
"Agreed," I murmured. "Remind me tomorrow."
He nodded, pulling his phone from his pocket and
probably setting himself a reminder.
Lucas gave a long yawn, sliding down the lounge further
until his head rested on the low back and his legs sprawled
out in front of him. "I guess I'm not such an unsullied
marshmallow after all, huh?" He cracked one eye at me, a
smile sitting on his lips.
I grinned back at him. "You're full of surprises, Lucas
Wildeboer, that's for fucking sure."

OceanofPDF.com
37

F or a while, Cass, Zed, and I just chatted idly


about the Guild, cars, guns... our preferred
methods of torturing someone for information. All our
shared interests. Lucas's hand had found my ankle at some
point, and he'd fallen asleep with his fingers wrapped
around my leg, as if touching me made him feel safe
enough to rest.
"Jesus," Zed muttered, eyeing Lucas. "He's making my
neck hurt just looking at him. That can't be comfortable."
I peered over at Lucas, smiling at how peaceful and
relaxed his face was. But Zed was right, the angle of his
neck and back was going to leave him aching in the
morning if we left him like that.
"I should wake him up," I murmured, my own voice thick
with Scotch and weed.
Zed groaned and stood up with a slight wobble. He
leaned over Lucas and shook his shoulder to try and wake
him up. No response.
Cass gave a low chuckle. "Good luck. That kid sleeps like
the fucking dead."
He'd know. A surge of arousal rippled through me on
remembering how he'd stolen me straight out of Lucas's
bed the other night.
Zed gave a heavy sigh and grabbed Lucas by the arms.
"Help me carry his heavy ass inside," he told Cass.
"Nah," Cass replied, finishing the last drag on another
joint. "You got this."
Zed glared but hauled Lucas's dead weight over his
shoulder in a fireman carry. "Good point," he grunted.
"Wouldn't want you to break a hip, old man."
I laughed out loud at that dig, then clapped a hand over
my mouth to try and stifle the sound. Then I laughed harder
at the fact that I'd laughed in the first place.
Zed just smirked his victory and carried Lucas inside,
leaving Cass and I alone by the fire.
"You little shit," Cass growled when I continued to laugh.
His fingers wound around my braid, and he tugged my
head back to look up at him. Whatever else he was going to
say he discarded in favor of kissing the crap out of me
instead.
He devoured me with his lips, his tongue, his touch, and
I squirmed in his arms, aching for more. He released me
just long enough to haul me into his lap, my legs straddling
him, and his hard length crushed against my throbbing
pussy. Suddenly I was regretting my choice of pants over a
skirt in tonight's outfit because, holy shit, I wanted Cass's
hands on me more than I wanted air.
But a sobering thought flashed through my mind, and I
groaned, pulling back from his lips. "We can't," I muttered
with heartfelt regret. "I promised Zed..." Ugh, I was really
questioning my sanity for agreeing to that fucking stupid
request of his. But I had, and I couldn't just break my word.
Could I?
Cass arched his scarred brow. "Zed made you promise
not to fuck me?"
I winced. "Or Lucas. Not here, anyway." I indicated the
fact that we were in Zed's home, and yeah, that did mean I
had to pay him some respect.
Cass stared into my eyes for a long moment, his palms
splayed across my ass and holding me tight against him.
"Or what?" he murmured, a glint of evil touching his dark
gaze.
I frowned, stoned enough that I wasn't following his
train of thought. "Huh?"
"Zed... I know how he operates. I bet he gave you an
ultimatum. What'd he threaten to do if you do fuck one of
us in his house?"
My eyes widened, and I licked my suddenly dry lips. "He
said he'd have to join in."
Cass tipped his head back as an easy laugh rolled
through him. "Predictable bastard." He shifted his grip on
my ass and ground his erection against my core, watching
with heated eyes when I moaned. "So let him."
I blinked a couple of times in confusion. "What?"
Cass's lips found my neck, sucking at my flesh and
making me shiver and arch into him. "Let him," he
murmured against my skin. "Or if you want to turn the
tables, you can let him watch but not touch."
A small gasp passed my lips at that suggestion, and I
was willing to bet my leather pants would need to be dry-
cleaned before they could be worn again; I was that wet.
Cass lifted me with strong hands and lay me down on
the lounge where Lucas had just been sleeping. "Either
way, I'm gonna make you come for me, Red."
I groaned, stretching my arms over my head and lifting
my hips as he peeled my pants down. I'd taken my boots off
earlier while we were chatting and drinking, so it was only
a matter of seconds before he hitched my legs over his
shoulder and slammed his face into my pussy.
"Oh fuck," I hissed, my whole body quaking as his
tongue found my clit and his beard scraped the soft skin of
my thigh.
"Seriously, Dare?" Zed barked, storming out of the
house toward us with a conflicted expression on his face.
I moaned at what Cass was doing between my legs, then
threw Zed a smug smile. "Dead serious, Zayden. You know
weed makes me horny."
He glowered. "Breathing seems to make you horny these
days."
I gave a throaty laugh, then gasped as Cass pushed his
fingers inside me and his tongue lashed my clit. Zed's eyes
widened as he watched, seemingly frozen in place as I
squirmed and bucked on Cass's face.
"Dare..." he groaned. "I told you—"
"You told me not to ride dick in your house," I cut him
off, my breath short as Cass worked me into a frenzy. "And
I'm not."
Zed glared, appearing outraged at how literally I was
taking his threat. But he should know how to word his deals
more carefully.
"Semantics," he growled, moving around the fire toward
us.
I gave another laugh, followed by a lust-filled moan, but
held my hand up at him. "Touch me without consent and I'll
castrate you, Zed. Sit the fuck down and watch."
He stared at me like he couldn't decide if I was serious
or not. Cass gave my inner thigh a bite, pulling my
attention down to him and the wicked grin on his face. I
understood perfectly what he was thinking, too—that I
loved it when he took liberties without explicit consent. Zed
didn't know that, though. And I wanted to punish him for
trying to manipulate me.
Zed's eyes narrowed like he’d decided I wasn't kidding,
and he gave a slow shake of his head. "You're playing with
fire, Dare."
I licked my lips. "Am I?"
He gave a short laugh, swiping his hand over his short
hair, then retreated back to his original seat opposite us.
"Go on then, Saint. Show me how it's done."
Cass leaned up to look over at Zed and spread my legs
further apart. His fingers thrust in and out of my soaking
cunt, lazy and unhurried as he shifted us to give my best
friend a prime view.
"You've had your fair share of watchers in the past, De
Rosa," he commented, dragging my own arousal down my
perineum to tease my ass. "How does it feel being on the
other side?"
Zed didn't answer, just flipped Cass off and hitched his
ankle up on his knee. There was no hiding how hard he
was, but he made no move to get his dick out. Apparently
he was taking literally that I’d told him to watch.
Cass chuckled, pushing his pinky finger into my tight
hole and making my breath catch in a sharp gasp. His index
and middle fingers slid back into my pussy, and he fucked
me like that for a couple of moments while Zed stared.
Then Cass's mouth returned to my clit, blocking Zed’s view,
and my best friend’s eyes locked with mine across the fire.
I held that eye contact as Cass fucked me with his hand,
two fingers in my pussy and one in my ass, and tortured me
with his skillful tongue all over my clit. Every time I wanted
to turn my face or close my eyes, I forced my gaze to
remain locked on Zed's face. This was punishing me just as
much as him, but damn, if I wasn't getting off on it.
When I finally came, I couldn't stop my lids from
fluttering closed as my spine arched and my toes curled.
Zed muttered a curse under his breath and swiped his hand
over his face in frustration, then stood up abruptly.
"I need a fucking shower," he announced, his voice
rough with arousal and anger. "The rules still stand, Dare."
His gaze was hard, practically begging me to test him over
that threat, and I just gave him a lazy, blissed-out smile in
return.
He shot a glare at Cass, who was casually kissing my
inner thigh, then stomped his horny ass back inside the
house.
"You know he's gone to jerk off," Cass commented when
he was gone.
I snickered an intoxicated laugh. "I'd be offended if he
wasn't."
Forcing my limbs to obey me, I sat up, then slid to my
knees in front of Cass. "He told me not to ride dick," I
murmured, unbuckling his belt and palming his hot, hard
dick. "Never said anything about choking on it."
A sly grin pulled at Cass's lips as his hand went to the
back of my head, his fingers weaving into my braid. "That's
my girl."
Eagerly, I took him into my mouth, running my tongue
around his crown and tasting the saltiness of his arousal
before taking him deeper into my throat. Cass grunted,
lifting his hips to meet me as his hand forced my head
lower, pushing his dick deeper still until I could barely
breathe, then releasing me momentarily before repeating.
He fucked my face with rough, demanding thrusts that
left me wet and shaking all over again. By the time he
came, hot cum filling my mouth and dripping down my
throat, I was seriously considering calling Zed's bluff.
Cass must have known it too. He gave a soft laugh and
pulled me to my feet as he stood up. "Come on, Angel. I'll
give you a hand in the shower."
I grinned as he scooped me up in his arms to carry me
inside, but couldn't help noticing the light on in Zed's
bedroom overlooking the courtyard. Or the silhouette of
someone standing at the window.

OceanofPDF.com
38

N ightmares of Chase woke me far too early the


next morning. Despite all we'd done the night
before to push those memories aside, to dilute
their power, the second I’d fallen asleep those dark
thoughts, the soul-aching terror of memories, had come
back with a vengeance.
Cass seemed to sleep deeper with the help of a solid
high, and instead of waking him with my thrashing and
screams, I dressed and went to the gym. Sleep wasn't an
option for me, apparently, so I may as well beat the ever-
loving crap out of a sandbag while picturing my
psychopathic, abusive ex.
It almost seemed laughable that even with his scarred
face and eye patch he was still as handsome as ever. But
then, loads of serial killers were attractive people. It helped
them lure their victims so much easier, and Chase was a
master of that.
When I'd hit the bag so many times my arms were
shaking and weak, I tossed my gloves aside and went for a
shower. I still had no clue how to deal with him. I couldn't
just shoot him and feed his body to my shark in the Club 22
aquarium, not if he was in communication with the FBI and
had already cast suspicion my way. His death, or even
disappearance, would just add to their mounting case
against me.
I was no closer to a solution when I went in search of
coffee and found Zed sitting at the dining table with his
laptop open in front of him.
"Morning," I muttered, not totally sure how we were
going to handle everything that had happened last night.
Being high as fuck had definitely contributed to my lack of
inhibitions, but I regretted nothing.
Zed reached out as I passed him, grabbed my wrist, and
tugged me off balance, causing me to land in his lap with a
sharp exhale.
"Zed—" I started to say, but I clamped my lips shut when
he tapped his ear, showing me the Bluetooth headset.
"Yes, absolutely," he said to whoever he was speaking to.
"I understand."
I raised a brow. He nodded to his phone on the table
beside his laptop, and I peered at the screen to see who
was on the call. The number was a random one, but the call
location was Edinburgh, Scotland, also known as the
birthplace of the Guild.
"We've had the property sealed for the time being," Zed
continued, his hands resting on my hips as he shifted me in
his lap, getting comfortable like we were high school
sweethearts or some shit. "But the property owner wants to
move back in. We'd prefer if you collected your property as
soon as possible."
I tried not to think about the heat of his hands on my
body or the way my ass was pressed to his crotch, and so I
tapped his laptop screen to see what he'd been looking at.
A dozen browser tabs were open, and I flipped through
them one by one while Zed finished his call to the
mercenary guild.
When the call ended, he placed his earpiece on the table
beside his phone. "You're awake early," he commented,
reaching past me to grab his mouse and click into one of
the tabs I hadn't gotten to yet.
"Couldn't sleep," I replied, shocking myself at how
hollow and haunted my voice was.
Zed just gave a hum of understanding, and his hands
returned to my waist, sliding around to my stomach in a
loose hold. "Read that," he told me.
I double-clicked to zoom the scanned document on his
screen and ran my eyes over the details. A huge portion of
the file had been redacted, but there were two clues that
hadn't been concealed: the patient's name—because it was
a medical record—and the doctor's name below the
signature line.
Turning slightly, I gave Zed a curious look, but he just
took the mouse from me and clicked into another window,
one where he'd already pulled up that doctor’s photograph
and bio.
As I read through the description of the doctor, Zed
brushed a light kiss over my shoulder that made me shiver.
"Lucas has a sibling," I said out loud when I finished
reading the doctor’s bio. The medical record had been for
his mother, and the treating physician was a specialist in
IVF. Sure, the details of her treatment had been redacted,
but if it walked like a duck and quacked like a duck...
"That was my conclusion, too," he agreed. "Roughly ten
years older than him, if Lucas is turning nineteen next
week."
"Next week?" I repeated, swiveling my head to look at
him. "Lucas's birthday is next week?"
Zed grinned. "You didn't know that?" He clicked his
tongue. "Worst girlfriend ever. His birthday is next
Saturday."
I cringed. That really did seem like something I should
know. I needed to think of something special to do for him.
"Okay, back to this," I redirected, indicating to the
laptop. "Maybe we're jumping to conclusions. Just because
Sandra visited an IVF clinic doesn't mean it was successful.
Maybe it took her that long to get pregnant with Lucas?"
Zed winced. "I doubt it was anything so innocent. She
would have only been sixteen when that redacted file was
written."
I clicked back to the medical file to double-check
Sandra's date of birth and grimaced. "Jesus Christ," I
muttered. "That poor girl." Because not even a single part
of me thought she was visiting an IVF doctor at age sixteen
—with heavy redaction on her file—of her own free will.
That had nefarious intent written all over it.
"What poor girl?" Lucas asked, coming into the room
looking all sleepy and sexy and totally clueless.
I stiffened in Zed's lap, and my second caught my eye
before I turned to look over at Lucas.
"Uh, no one we know," I lied, "just reading the news." I
closed the lid of Zed's laptop, making him cringe, then
stood up out of his lap.
"How'd you sleep, Gumdrop?" Zed asked, also standing
and brushing a hand over my hip as he moved past me
toward the kitchen. Apparently he'd decided to wage war
by casual physical contact, and it was goddamn working for
him.
Lucas yawned, ruffling his fingers through his hair, then
draped his arms around me in a warm hug. "Like the dead,"
he replied, his voice still thick. "How'd I get into bed,
though?"
Zed rolled his eyes but didn't reply as he headed for the
coffee machine. Lucas pulled back to give me a curious
look, and I grinned. "Zed carried you upstairs and tucked
you in."
Lucas's brows hitched, and he released me to turn
toward Zed. "Aw, big brother, you do love me after all!" The
teasing in his voice was thick, and I vaguely feared for his
life when he wrapped Zed in a bear hug.
Zed just grunted, though, and shoved Lucas off him.
"You're lucky you're so skinny; you barely weigh more than
Dare when she's passed-out drunk." He nodded to Lucas's
insanely ripped torso—because apparently T-shirts weren't
needed around the house. "Better start working on some
muscle, Gumdrop, or we'll have to call you marshmallow."
It was a joke, obviously. Even after the surgery and his
recovery time, Lucas was still cut like a fitness model. He
was so far from becoming a marshmallow it was laughable.
"Mm-hmm," Lucas replied to Zed with a smug grin.
"Green is such a good color on you, big bro."
I snorted a laugh when Zed frowned and peered down at
his gray T-shirt. It took a second, but he figured it out and
glared at Lucas like he was thinking about punching him.
"Are you going to see your mom today?" I asked,
redirecting the conversation. As cute as it was that they
were comfortable enough to joke, I really didn't need
another dick-measuring competition so soon. The tension
from last night was already so thick between Zed and I,
even if neither of us had mentioned it.
Lucas nodded. "Yeah, I'd like to. If that's okay?"
We’d all been taking turns driving him to see her
because I didn't want him alone. Ever. Not after Chase had
already nearly killed him and especially not now. Chase
said he wanted me back... which meant Lucas and Cass
would be targets. Not to mention Zed... shit. Zed needed to
be more careful than ever. The swipe Chase had taken at
him, calling him my lapdog, told me he wasn't interested in
making amends with his childhood best friend.
"I'll take you," Zed offered, meeting my gaze. "Hades has
business to take care of with Dallas. Besides, I'm curious to
meet the woman who produced such an interesting child."
He said it with a smile, but it was the sort of smile a
crocodile might offer before dragging its victim into the
water to drown.
Lucas gave a confused frown but shrugged. "Sure, cool.
Thanks. Is everything okay, though?" He turned back to me
with concern on his face.
I nodded. "Fine. Just tightening up security at the clubs."
Zed handed me a mug of coffee, his fingers brushing
mine as I took it and his stare way too damn intense for this
time of morning.
Lucas noticed it too. His gaze bounced between the two
of us a couple of times before a small smile tugged his lips.
He grabbed a coffee mug out of the cupboard and helped
himself to the fresh pot before turning back to face us both.
"Everything okay with you guys? You both seem...
tense." The smirk on his lips said he knew perfectly fucking
well what was causing that tension, even if he hadn't
witnessed the show I gave Zed last night.
Zed leaned back against the cabinets, cool as a
cucumber as he sipped his coffee. "I'm fine. How about you,
Dare?"
My answering smile was brittle and severely lacking in
sincerity. "Better than fine."
Lucas snorted a laugh and shook his head. "You guys
need to fuck so bad it's painful."
Zed choked on the sip of coffee he'd just taken, and my
eyes bugged out as I glared at Lucas.
"What?" He shrugged. "It's pretty obvious."
"I'm going to get changed," I announced, making a
speedy exit from the kitchen, despite the fact that I'd
literally just showered and changed after my workout. I
wasn't fast enough, though, and I heard Zed's response to
Lucas.
"You're officially the most secure teenager I've ever
fucking met, Wilder. Or are you just not concerned about
losing your woman to another man?"
I paused, wanting to hear Lucas's reply.
He didn't disappoint either. In fact, he laughed. "I won't
lose her to you, Zed. She already loves you and has since
before I met her, so there's nothing to be insecure about.
Hayden has room in her heart for both of us and for the
grumpy old man snoring upstairs. Either get on board or
get out, but I'm locked in for the whole damn ride."
A rush of warmth flooded my chest hearing that, and I
hurried upstairs before he caught me listening outside the
kitchen. Lucas was delivering on everything he’d promised
me and more. He really was my lighthouse in the raging
storm of my bloody, violent, fucked up life.
It was about damn time I reciprocated, and I knew how I
could start: by working out what the hell was going on with
his mom and the riddle wrapped in the mystery of her past.

OceanofPDF.com
39

T he week passed in a blur as I buried myself in


strengthening our security around both Zed's
house and all the Copper Wolf businesses. I needed to
change insurance companies for everything and thoroughly
investigate all our external contracts to find anywhere else
Chase might have wiggled his way in.
Cass spent most of his time either doing Reaper
business or training for his fight, so it was a pleasant
surprise when he showed up at my office on Friday
afternoon.
"Grumpy Cat," I greeted him with a grin, sitting back in
my chair. "This is unexpected. Don't you have somewhere
to be?"
He gave an easy shrug. "Not for a few hours. Thought
I'd come pick you up."
Zed had driven me to Copper Wolf earlier in the day,
seeing as we both had shit to do here. But he'd left to sort
out final details for the fight night tonight, so I did need a
ride back.
"That's very thoughtful of you," I commented, my eyes
narrowed with suspicion.
"I'm a thoughtful guy," he replied, coming around my
desk and leaning down into my personal space. "Besides, I
wanted to give you something."
I grinned, my gaze flicking to the glass door of my office
and the employees at their desks on the other side. "Here?
It's probably not the most professional move. How about in
the bathroom?"
Cass gave an exasperated headshake. "Not what I was
talking about, Red." Then he paused, looking thoughtful.
"But now that you mention it..."
"No, now I want to know what you came to give me if
you weren't talking about a quick afternoon orgasm." I
tilted my face back, smiling up at him. Fuck me, I was so
into Cassiel Saint it was sickening.
He glanced up at the door like he was checking for
anyone watching, then ducked his head down to kiss me
deeply.
"Come on; it's downstairs." His gruff voice was next-
level sexy after kissing me like that, and I was sorely
tempted to fuck him in the elevator. "You done here?"
I nodded. "Yep, sure am."
He straightened up, waiting by the door as I logged off
my computer and shut it down. I grabbed my tailored
blazer from the back of my chair and threaded my arms in
while Cass watched me with hungry eyes, then I slung my
purse over my shoulder.
"Let's go," I told him, and he held the door open for me.
"Have a great weekend, boss!" Hannah called out from
her desk across from Macy's. Her smile was wide as she
gazed up at Cass and I. "Good luck at your fight tonight,
Mr. Saint."
Cass just grunted a noise because his talkativeness
didn't extend to anyone outside my little crew. So I gave
her a nod in response, making up for his lack of manners.
"Are you coming to the fight, Hannah?"
She shook her head and gave a small laugh. "No, I'm not
a fan. Johnny and I have history, and I'd rather stay well
clear."
I tilted my head, curious, but didn't push for the story.
Hopefully, one day she'd feel comfortable enough to
volunteer it and let me deal with Johnny Rock should he
need it. "Fair enough." I flashed a smile at Macy too. "Don't
work too late."
She just arched a brow at me as if to say Don't tell me
what to do and continued with her work.
I started toward the elevators but paused when I
realized Cass wasn't following me. He was frowning down
at Hannah, who looked like a startled possum staring up at
him.
"Bad history?" he asked in a low, dangerous rumble.
She jerked a nod and licked her lips. "You could call it
that. I have a restraining order against him."
I wasn't shocked. The flicker of anxiety when she'd
mentioned history had hinted enough. Cass just grunted
another sound, then ran a hand over his beard.
"Noted." That was it. Then he stalked across the carpet
to where I waited and pressed the elevator call button.
I kept my mouth shut until we were alone in the
elevator, then turned to him with narrowed eyes. "What
was that all about?"
He quirked his scarred brow. "What?"
I rolled my eyes. "Nothing." I had a feeling I already
knew what he was planning anyway. "Parking level, huh?" I
indicated to the level he'd selected, and he shot me a dark,
mischievous look back.
"I can't decide," he muttered, his gaze burning a hot
path over my body as he inspected me from top to toe, "if I
prefer you in skirts or pants."
I was wearing a pair of tight black jeans with my
replacement Louboutins that I knew made my legs and ass
look incredible. But I still gave him a short laugh and
propped a hand on my hip. "I'd think that was an easy
decision, Saint. Only skirts give you easy access."
He hooked his thumb through my belt loop and tugged
me closer so he could palm my ass through the jeans.
"That's true," he agreed, kissing my neck and making my
breath quicken. The elevator dinged to announce we'd
reached the parking floor, and the doors slid open behind
me. "But pants mean you can ride a motorcycle without
flashing your sexy ass to the whole world."
He gave me a nudge, pushing me out into the parking
garage, and I stopped short when I spotted the second bike
parked beside his Harley.
My eyes shifted to him, and he dangled a familiar Ducati
key from his finger. "I told you it was yours, Red. 'Bout
damn time I got around to giving it to you."
I couldn't fight the smile on my face as I took a closer
look at the bike and ran my hand over the smooth leather
seat and glossy red paintwork.
"This is a Superlegerra V4," I murmured, caressing the
handlebar, then flicking my attention back to Cass. "They
only made five hundred of these."
He gave a shrug. "Yeah, but the red matches the soles of
your shoes. And it goes fucking fast."
I snickered at his clueless act. He knew more about
bikes than I did, and I knew a lot. This wasn't the most
expensive Ducati in the world, but it would have been
goddamn hard to get his hands on. And he was right, it was
fast.
"This is more than thoughtful, Saint," I commented, still
touching the bike. It was a thing of beauty; I could hardly
believe I'd told him to shove this gift up his ass a few weeks
earlier.
He came closer, holding out the key—which wasn't an
actual key so much as an electronic fob—for me to take.
"Does that mean you'll keep it? It's not really my style."
I looked over at his black-and-chrome Harley Davidson
and was inclined to agree. "I guess it'd be rude not to," I
murmured, snagging the key from his finger. Then I
launched myself into his arms and wrapped my legs around
his waist as I kissed him half to death.
"I'll take that as a thank you," he growled when I pulled
back, breathless and hot with arousal. His huge hands
gripped my ass, holding me against him effortlessly, and I
wanted nothing more than to strip my jeans off and show
him just how thankful I was feeling.
Instead, I raised a brow and wriggled out of his grip.
"For the record, Saint, I could have bought this for myself."
As I turned away, he gripped my hips, pressing his hot
body against my back, and teasingly bit the side of my
neck. "That's not how a gift works, Red. Besides, I bought
the only one available for sale, so no. You couldn't." He
stepped back, then smacked me on the ass. Hard. "Now get
on. I wanna get the whole visual."
I grinned, tucking the key into my pocket. I pulled the
strap on my handbag loose to loop over my body, then
unhooked the helmet from the handlebar. "Yes, sir."
Tugging the helmet on over my loose hair, I swung my
leg over the sleek machine and situated my ass in place
with a wiggle.
Cass let out a pained groan, biting his knuckle as he
watched me get comfortable, then scrubbed his hand over
his face. "Shit. I'm gonna walk into the fight with a raging
hard-on now."
I laughed under my full-face helmet and pressed the
ignition button. As the bike roared to life between my legs,
I shivered with excitement. Oh. Hell yes. I was keeping this
baby for sure.
"Race me home, and I'll take care of that for you," I told
him, then peeled out of the parking garage before he could
even get on his own bike.
I was just teasing, though, and waited at the top of the
ramp for him to catch up. After all, it was no fun racing him
if I had such a sizable advantage in the first place. I wanted
all the glory when I whupped his ass, and that meant giving
him a fair start.
He caught up a few seconds later, and we gunned our
engines at the same time, tearing out into the street and
dodging traffic to get to the highway.
Unsurprisingly, my new baby left Cass way in her dust
when we hit the open roads heading back to Shadow Grove.
I made it back to Zed's house with enough time to park,
strip out of my clothes, and put my shoes back on before
Cass rolled in on his Harley.
When he found me waiting with my butt propped against
the seat of my bike and not a stitch of clothing covering my
flesh, he almost dropped his whole damn motorcycle. He
recovered it well, though, hopping off and tossing his
helmet aside as he advanced on me like a wild animal.
Then he proceeded to fuck me like said wild animal over
the seat of my bike with my matching red-soled shoes still
on my feet. In fairness, it gave me the extra height needed
so he could fuck me standing up, his fingers curled around
my hipbones and his pants around his knees.
It was goddamn delicious.
I came with little to no effort, my pussy already
throbbing and wet from the exhilaration of the race, and
Cass joined me in climax only a few moments later.
"I guess you like the bike, then?" he commented with a
husky laugh as he pulled his jeans back up and I gathered
up my hastily tossed-aside clothes.
Rising up on my toes, I kissed him deeply and smiled. "I
love it. But if you're late to your fight, I will castrate you.
Go. I'll meet you there when I've cleaned up."
He looked indecisive as hell, but I hardened my stare
and he reluctantly made his way back to his bike. "Fine," he
growled. "But Zed can take his stupid rule and jump off a
damn cliff tonight. When I win this, I'm fucking you until
you can't walk. Clear?"
A deep shiver of excitement ran through me, and my
nipples hardened. "Clear," I replied. "I'm all yours, sir."
Then I smirked, unable to keep from teasing him. "If you
win, of course."
He scowled at me but roared back out of the garage
again a moment later.
I checked the time on my phone in the bundle of clothes
and weapons in my arms and muttered a curse at how late
it already was. Knowing how many eyes would be on me
tonight—big fights always pulled a mixed bag of criminals
and shady individuals—I needed to ensure my Hades mask
was firmly in place, a task that was proving to be harder
every damn day.
I gave myself a long mental pep talk in the shower, and
when I got out, I looked in the mirror and groaned. All I
saw staring back at me was a well-fucked woman with rosy
cheeks, puffy lips, and bruised bite marks on her throat. All
I saw... was happiness.
That wouldn't do at all. Luckily, I knew exactly what
would put my head back in the right gear.
I quickly dressed in a simple but elegant black evening
gown, then added a thigh sheath full of knives, which would
be on full display with the split in my dress, and opted to
leave my Desert Eagle at home for the first time in five
years.
The lack of weapons sent more of a message than if I
were armed to the teeth because it showed that I wasn't
afraid of anyone in attendance tonight. The knives? Well,
they were just sexy as hell.
When I was satisfied with my appearance, the only thing
left was to regain that hardness in my eyes and in my
posture. I needed to shrug off the warm, fuzzy, sexed-up
glow of Cass’s and Lucas's affections and coat myself in
cool metal once more.
So as I made my way down to Zed's garage, heading for
the Audi thanks to my dress, I pulled my phone out and
pressed the contact us button on the Locked Heart
Enterprises website.
The phone rang twice, then clicked and redirected, just
as I'd predicted.
A moment later, he answered.
"Darling, how unexpected." His voice was a low purr, so
fucking familiar, and it set my skin crawling. Perfect.
"Chase, sweetheart," I drawled back. He'd caught me off
guard last time, but I was prepared now. I knew who I was
dealing with, and he wouldn't get to me so easily again. My
acting skills had improved dramatically since his "death"
five years before. "I take it you received the good news
today?"
He gave a soft click of his tongue, and smug triumph
rolled through me. I'd spent the week overturning his shell
company's decision on my insurance claims and eventually
managed to get a judge in the state court to rule in my
favor. It was really his own fault; if he hadn't helpfully
informed the FBI that we had personal history, I'd have
never been able to prove bias in the claim rejection. Gen
had seriously earned herself the bonus I'd wired through to
her Cayman account this afternoon.
"You're quite proud of yourself, aren't you Darling?" he
replied, sounding almost impressed. "This is more fun than
I anticipated."
I gave a soft laugh, letting him hear how unbothered I
was by his creepy-ass bullshit. "You're out of your league,
Chase. Slink back into the shadows where you belong."
He chuckled back at me. "Nah, I've only just gotten
started. We're soulmates, Darling. And if I can't have you,
no one will." He paused, then gave me exactly what I’d
wanted when I placed this call. "Oh, how is Stephanie
doing, by the way? I bet she grew up so pretty."
Cold hatred settled into my bones, and the shift in my
personality snapped into place with an almost physical jolt.
I ended the call without another word, having achieved
what I set out to get. Focus. Determination. Blood-lust.
Hades was back.

OceanofPDF.com
40

Z ed and Lucas were already at our reserved area


directly beside the octagon when I arrived. Some
smaller, lower-billed fights had been scheduled before the
main event of the night, but I was here for one fight only.
"Holy shit, Hayden," Lucas exclaimed when I joined
them, his jaw dropping. The high-profile events at Anarchy
were always formal dress for VIP guests—because why the
fuck not? So Lucas and Zed were both sharply dressed in
suits and Lucas's hair was slicked back with gel, making
him look easily in his twenties. The scruff of stubble that he
wore on his jaw definitely helped in that department.
I let a small smile touch my lips in response, but Zed put
a hand on Lucas's arm to stop him from reaching out for
me.
"Not here, Wilder," he muttered, the noise of the crowd
covering his voice. "Not while she's like that." He nodded
toward me, and I met his gaze with cool eyes. He knew
where my head was at and he knew that Lucas's affection
would make it impossible to keep my mask in place, so he
was intervening. And for that I could fucking kiss him.
Keeping my chin high and my shoulders relaxed, I
accepted a glass of Champagne from an Anarchy VIP
waitress and took a sip. One of the fighters in the octagon
got knocked out as blood splattered out of the cage and
spotted the floor at my feet, but I didn't react. Instead, I
just swept my gaze toward the far side of the room.
Chase Lockhart, looking devastatingly handsome with
his designer suit and black leather eye patch, met my gaze
as he casually sauntered his way down the aisle to where
Johnny Rock's supporters had a reserved area.
He took a glass of Champagne from a server, too, and
raised it toward me in a silent toast. The smile on his lips
said he thought he'd surprised me, but I just smiled and
raised my glass back.
"Did you know he was going to be here?" Zed muttered,
coming to stand at my side slightly behind my right elbow.
I took another sip of my drink, still locked in a stare-
down with my psychopathic, unstable ex. "Yep," I replied.
"He might be six steps ahead, but goddamn, he's
predictable."
Zed huffed a quiet laugh as the commentator announced
the winner of the fight that had just ended. Someone
walked in front of me, breaking my eye contact with Chase,
so I took the opportunity to sit down in my reserved seat
between Zed and Lucas.
"Hayden, are you okay?" Lucas whispered, barely even
moving his lips as he leaned forward and pretended to be
super interested in what the commentator was saying
about the fight.
I shifted slightly, biting the inside of my cheek to keep
from reacting. "Sorry, Lucas," I breathed in reply. "I should
have told you he'd be here."
It couldn't be easy for him to see the guy who’d branded
him, who’d stabbed him, and not march straight over there
to deck him. I was beyond impressed at his self-composure.
He turned his face slightly, flashing me a brief but
blinding smile. "I'm not worried. I just wanna be there
when you cut his heart out and stomp on it in those killer
heels of yours."
I brought my glass back to my lips, hiding my laugh with
another slow sip of Champagne. Chase watched me across
the crowd, the intensity of his stare making my skin crawl,
but I didn't pay him any more attention.
Instead, I used the time before Cass's fight to speak
briefly with the key players I'd known would be in
attendance. Vega was significantly less ballsy in his
approach with me this time, and Maurice had clearly heard
about what'd happened because for the first time in a long
time he treated me with the respect I deserved.
When the commentator announced that the main event
was about to commence, the crowd went wild.
Johnny Rock came out first, jumping around and beating
on his chest, playing up for the crowd and generally
making me want to nut-punch the arrogant son of a bitch.
How in the hell did Hannah have history with this complete
clown?
Chase was on his feet with his lackeys, clapping for
Johnny, and I spotted the Locked Heart Enterprises logo
printed on the fighter's shorts when he shrugged his hoodie
off.
This wasn't an official fight, not by a long shot, but we
adhered to all the usual safety standards so we could avoid
lawsuits, now that Anarchy was operating as a Copper Wolf
venue. So it took a few minutes before the referee allowed
Johnny into the octagon.
He wasted no time playing up for the crowd, doing flips
and shit that made me want to roll my eyes something
awful. The cocky little shit even had the audacity to pause
in front of our seats and leer at me like I was some Johnny
Rock fangirl begging to suck his dick.
I simply shifted in my seat to cross my legs, letting the
deep split of my dress fall open and display the deadly
sharp blades strapped to my thigh. Then I held his gaze
without blinking and let a whole tsunami of violence and
death roll through my mind.
He saw it. There was no way he couldn't have. His
tanned face paled slightly, and he was quick to move on.
"Fucking idiot," Lucas muttered with a laugh. "Probably
thought Zed was Hades."
"Undoubtedly," Zed replied, reclining in his chair and
letting one of his arms rest on the back of my seat. "It
happens a lot."
The commentator announced Cass next, and he came
stomping out of his locker room without any fanfare. No
jumping around or fist pumps for the crowd, and the music
—I was willing to bet—had been chosen by someone else. I
could practically hear Cass saying he didn't give a fuck
what song they played.
"Did he give you the Ducati?" Zed asked casually, his
fingers trailing over my bare back where no one but Lucas
would be able to see the touch. Sneaky shit.
I looked at him from the side of my eye as Cass ran
through the safety checks with our referee and climbed
into the octagon.
"Yeah, he did."
Zed's light touch brushed down my arm on Lucas's side,
and Lucas arched a curious look at the two of us.
"Zed," I murmured, "what do you think you're doing?"
He sat up straighter with a deep inhale, his hand moving
to grip the back of my chair as he turned toward me.
"Chase’s been playing with you, Dare. He's been
deliberately sending you messages that remind you of the
past, trying to scare you and throw you off your game." His
eyes narrowed in determination. "Don't you think it's time
we struck back?"
My brows rose slightly, but I didn't offer any more of a
reaction than that. Chase was still watching us; I could see
him from the corner of my eye.
"I'm with Zed on this," Lucas offered from my other side.
"You guys have a shared history, so he's not the only one
who can play that game."
I shifted my attention back to Zed. "What did you have
in mind, De Rosa?"
His lips hitched in a sly grin. "This."
I should have known. Or rather, I did know, but I was so
distracted by keeping Chase in my peripheral and
maintaining my stone-cold façade and desperately wishing I
could lean into Lucas and show that I was there with him...
that I let Zed catch me off guard.
Zed's lips met mine as his hand found the back of my
neck, pulling me into him as he coaxed my mouth open and
teased at my tongue. He didn't kiss me with all the
domineering, possessive desire that I could feel pent up in
his tense grip, because he knew, like I did, that there were
more people watching us than just Chase. And I still had a
reputation to maintain.
So I took control, winding his tie around my fist and
jerking him to me as I kissed him back, ravaging his mouth
and not even remotely faking it.
When I released him a few moments later, our breathing
was rough and my usually smudge-proof lipstick was
smeared across his lips.
"Last time Chase saw you kissing me," Zed said in a
rough voice, "it triggered the beginning of the end for him
and his revolting family. I hope this reminds him of that and
of everything you're capable of when pushed."
He brushed my cheek with his thumb like he didn't want
to stop kissing me despite our point having been made.
Then the crowd roared, and a spray of blood from the
octagon splattered the side of Zed's face.
I released his tie, jerking my attention up to the fighters
in the ring. Cass had Johnny Rock shoved into the cage,
blood pouring from the younger fighter's face as Cass
landed blow after blow with his eyes locked on mine.
"Shit, Zed," I hissed, "that maybe wasn't the best
timing."
Zed snickered, wiping the blood off his face with a fabric
handkerchief and cleaning up his lips while he was at it.
"Or was it perfect timing? Look how determined he is to
murder that little prick now."
Stifling an eye roll, I snatched the handkerchief from
him, and did my best to clean up my own lipstick smears
using one of my knives as a mirror.
Zed leaned in again as I was doing it, brushing his lips
over my ear. "Besides, you forgot the new security system
in the garage. What did I tell you about riding dick in my
house, Dare?"
I froze. Fuck. I had forgotten the new security system
that I'd personally fucking overseen. I hadn't turned it off
after I parked my bike—I’d been in a hurry—and it would
have sent camera footage straight to Zed's phone.
Whoops.
Johnny Rock struggled, and Cass released him. The
crowd roared and booed, clearly wanting him to end it then
and there. But it was only the first round, and I'd politely
requested he put on a good show. So now he was playing
with his victim, and it was amusing the hell out of me.
Cass had been holding back in his practice sessions with
Zed and Alexi. Big time. Johnny Rock wasn't even close to a
serious contender against the lethal machine that was
Cassiel Saint. I found myself drawn in, totally unable to
tear my eyes from the swift, powerful, and damaging
strikes Cass delivered to his opponent, and I jittered with
excitement through the one-minute breaks between rounds.
After the third round—of five—the referee came over
and crouched down in front of us, his fingers holding the
cage as he grimaced. "You want me to call an end to this
mess, boss? It's a clear win for the Reaper."
I shook my head, a cruel smile playing across my lips.
"No. Let it play out. They're giving a good show." If by good
show I really meant violent bloodbath, then that was the
truth.
The referee inclined his head in understanding, then
stood back up to call the start of the fourth round. Johnny
Rock could barely stand, weaving on his feet as he tried to
keep Cass in his sight despite puffy swelling already closing
one eye and blood dripping in the other. He was so used to
winning that all his arrogance must be taking a worse
beating than his face.
"Sending a message?" Lucas asked quietly, and I gave
him a small smile.
"You know it," I murmured back. "Chase made it so clear
he was sponsoring Johnny, well... he brought this on
himself."
"Can I ask a question?" Lucas whispered, his eyes on the
fight like he wasn't even paying attention to me.
I bit back a smile. "You just did." He flicked a sideways
glance at me, and I sipped my fresh drink. "Sorry, go
ahead." My spine was still straight, my legs crossed and my
posture perfect, but I was violently aware of the men on
either side of me. It was a whole new form of torture.
"How come it's okay to kiss Zed in public but not me?"
He asked the question quietly, not letting anyone overhear,
and I didn't sense any real hurt behind his words. He was
just genuinely curious about the intricacies of my power
dynamic.
I caught Zed's look but didn't acknowledge him as I
drew a breath to answer Lucas honestly. "Because you
soften me, Lucas. You make me human, and I can't afford to
be soft or human right now. Not here, not with Chase
watching."
He gave a small nod of understanding and seemed
content with that response as he sat back in his seat.
Zed brushed my hair over my shoulder and stroked his
fingertip down the back of my neck, teasing. I was going to
have to junk punch him when we were alone.
"I don't soften you too?" he murmured.
I snorted a laugh before I could catch myself, then
covered it up with a sip of my drink. "You fucking know you
don't, asshole." I gave him a long look from the side of my
eye. "You strengthen me."
The last round started in the fight ring, and I gave Cass
a nod of thanks for dragging it out. The longer a fight
lasted, the more money changed hands. It was just smart
business.
Cass pounded on the poor fool a while longer, then took
him down in a flawless arm bar. Johnny Rock tried to tap
out, but the ref hesitated, looking over at me for approval
before calling the fight.
I gave a nod, but not before Cass broke Johnny's arm. As
the younger fighter howled in pain, I watched Cass lean
down, and it wasn't hard to read his lips when he delivered
the punchline to the whole painful show.
"That was for Hannah, you piece of shit."
I didn't think it was possible, but somehow I fell even
harder for Cass in that moment.

OceanofPDF.com
41

A fter the fight commentator did his thing announcing


the winner—which was entirely unnecessary but
protocol, nonetheless—I stood up with the guys to
clap politely, joining in on the crowd’s deafening screams
and cheers. Cass hadn't lied about his popularity in the
cage-fight scene; he had a whole lot of fans in attendance.
Or hell, maybe he'd just won them over with that brutal,
bloody display of violence.
"Hayden," Lucas muttered, touching a hand lightly to
the small of my back to get my attention. "Something's
going down at Club 22 right now."
I turned to face him with a confused frown. "What do
you mean?"
He gave a tiny, subtle nod toward Chase and the Johnny
Rock supporters’ area. "They're talking about Club 22 right
now. I think Chase has something planned while everyone
is distracted here."
I didn't question him, just spun to look at Zed, but he
was already one step ahead of me with his phone pressed
to his ear. Leaving him to contact the manager of Club 22, I
searched the crowd for Alexi and jerked my head at him
when he caught my eye.
He hurried over with Rixby at his side, and I deliberately
turned my back on Chase as I barked my orders. "Take a
team and get over to Club 22 right now."
The two of them nodded, and Alexi frowned. "What are
we looking for, boss?"
"We're not sure yet," I admitted. "We'll call when we
know more, but for now just get over there and be ready
for anything."
Alexi didn't need to hear any more than that and took off
with Rixby in tow as they rounded up a crew.
I turned to Zed with a raised brow, and he gave me a
shrug as he spoke to Rodney, the bar manager.
"Let's get over there," I said to Lucas.
He gave a curt nod, then waved over one of the Anarchy
waiters. "Hey man, we need you to go tell Cassiel Saint that
the after-party is at Club 22. Can you do that for us?"
The waiter’s eyes flicked to me, then he bobbed his head
and headed off in the direction of the lockers.
"Smart thinking," I murmured, and Lucas flashed me a
wide smile.
The three of us made our way toward the exit but didn't
rush. Whatever Chase was planning, we didn't want to give
him any indication that we were onto him. Complacency
was key.
"Leaving already, Darling?" he called out as we passed
near the Johnny Rock seating area.
I flashed him a dazzling smile. "You know how much a
good bloodbath turns me on, sweetheart. I simply can't
wait to get Zed home."
Zed played it up right on cue, wrapping his arm around
my waist and kissing my cheek—and totally ignoring Chase
—as we continued oh-so-casually departing the fight arena.
The second we made it outside, though, we were all
business once more and increased our pace to get out to
the parking lot as quickly as possible without actually
running.
I'd driven Zed's Audi over, so the three of us slid into
that to drive over to Club 22. We were about five minutes
away when Zed's phone rang again.
He flicked it onto speaker, and Rodney's voice filled the
car.
"Boss, you were right. One of the VIP girls just killed
herself in front of a customer." His tone was gruff and
haunted. "He reported she was acting real weird
beforehand, too, screaming and talking to herself and shit."
"Hallucinating?" Zed asked, his voice tight with anger.
"Sounds like it," Rodney replied. "Then she grabbed a
knife from somewhere and stabbed herself in the throat
while she was riding her customer. It's a hell of a mess."
"Alexi should be arriving any second," I snapped. "Get
his guys on cleanup."
"Understood, sir," Rodney replied.
I gave a frustrated grimace. "Tell him to be fast. This is a
setup. I'm guessing you've already shut the club down and
are clearing out patrons?"
"Yes, sir," he replied. "Want me to send the staff home
too?"
"No," Zed replied for me, "keep them. Start running a
thorough search for drugs on the venue too. Dispose of
anything you find, no matter how small."
"Got it," Rodney acknowledged.
Zed ended the call, then shifted in his seat to frown at
Lucas. "How'd you know?"
Lucas just shrugged, meeting my eyes in the rearview
mirror when I glanced up. "I can lip-read."
I arched a brow. Somehow I got the feeling he didn't just
mean occasionally make out short phrases someone was
saying when you already had a good idea of the subject,
like I'd just done with Cass at the end of his fight. Lucas
meant he could actually lip-read, and I was willing to bet
his uncle had been the one to teach him.
"Of course you can," Zed muttered, shaking his head. He
turned back to his phone and dialed Alexi.
"Just arrived," Alexi said on answering.
"Body cleanup," Zed replied. "Rodney's waiting for you."
"Understood," Alexi replied, ending the call.
I glanced at Lucas in the mirror again, briefly though,
given how fast I was driving. "Did you pick up anything
else?"
Lucas shook his head. "Not really. I hadn't been paying
attention, but then I caught ‘Club 22.’ The guy who sat
beside Chase said that the job was underway, then Chase
replied, saying to wait for confirmation before calling in a
tip."
Zed ran a hand over his face. "Alright, we might have
time."
Just in case, though, I pressed my foot closer to the floor
and got us to Club 22 just a few minutes later.
To my relief, there were no flashing lights of cop cars in
the parking lot, and the three of us hurried inside to figure
out what was what. I was pleased to find all the patrons
already cleared out, leaving just staff, who sat in a group on
the side of the stage while Alexi's team and the Club 22
security guards swept the venue for hidden drugs.
"All okay here?" I asked Maxine when I spotted her
sitting with the other staff.
She gave me a sharp nod, but her face was pale and
drawn. "Yes, boss. Rodney is upstairs with Alexi and..." Her
voice cracked and broke, but she swallowed and composed
herself quickly. "And Jessie."
Jessie must have been the girl who'd killed herself.
"Thanks Maxine. This is Lucas," I told her, indicating for
him to step forward. "He's recently joined upper
management." And by that, I meant Zed and me. We were
“upper management” when gang terminology wasn't
appropriate. Which was often.
"Nice to meet you, Maxine," Lucas said, offering his
hand for her to shake.
"Maxine, I want you to tell Lucas everything that
happened just now, okay? Legitimately everything you can
think of, including if anyone saw Jessie acting strange
tonight. Can you do that for me?" I gave her a tight smile,
trying to be reassuring, and she jerked a nod back.
"Yes, boss," she replied in a small voice. "I can do that."
I touched my hand to Lucas's arm, and he gave me a
confident look in return. His people skills were off the
charts good, so if anyone could get the shaken strippers to
open up about what they'd seen, it'd be him. With a small
sigh, I left Lucas there and headed upstairs to where Zed
had already disappeared.
A couple guys from Alexi's team passed me on the stairs,
giving polite greetings but not slowing down as they
carried large plastic tubs out—no doubt the remains of
Jessie. Fucking hell.
Zed and Rodney were at the far end of the VIP corridor,
where the brothel operated, and a bound and gagged man
in boxer shorts crouched on the floor at their feet. Inside
the room nearest to them, Alexi's team was hard at work
ripping out blood-stained carpets and scrubbing splatter
from the wall with peroxide. The bedsheets had already
been stripped, and thanks to the waterproof mattress
protectors we used in our VIP rooms, the bed itself was
pristine.
"Good work, Alexi," I commented, running my eyes over
the surfaces, then checking the time on my phone. "Get the
evidence well away from here."
"On it, boss," he replied, hefting a roll of ruined carpet
over his shoulder and leaving the room.
"Where do you want this guy?" Rodney asked, nudging
the near-naked man with his toe. Blood coated a large
portion of his upper body and face, and he looked like he
was about three seconds from pissing himself.
"Basement," I decided. "Secure him there until we can
deal with this, then we can find out what he knows." Even if
he had nothing to do with Jessie being drugged, he didn't
stop fucking her when she was screaming and
hallucinating, so he deserved what he had coming.
Zed hauled the guy up and dragged him along to a staff
staircase at the back of the corridor while I turned to
Rodney with a sigh.
"We anticipate cops here any second," I told him. "Head
back downstairs and give your staff a quick briefing. Let
them know that if anyone utters a word about this, they'll
be answering to me. Personally."
"Understood," he responded and departed to do what I'd
ordered.
I turned back to the cleaning crew in the bedroom and
watched them work for a couple of moments. "Get some
sheets back on that bed and set the room up as normal," I
told them as they packed up their supplies. "Then get out of
here."
They silently did as they were told, and I tapped out a
quick text to all the gang leaders under my rule. Given so
many of them had been at the fight, it shouldn't be a hard
task to call them into an emergency meeting tonight.
Ezekiel might not be able to attend, and Archer definitely
couldn't, but I could conference call both of them in.
Alexi's team finished up and pulled out of the parking lot
all of three seconds before two SGPD cop cars pulled in
with lights and sirens on and an unmarked car behind
them. FBI I'd be willing to bet. The agent they'd had tailing
me all week was laughably incompetent, and I'd ditched
him earlier in the day. But at a glance through the club’s
window, it looked like his car.
I passed Alexi on my way down to the main floor and
told him to wait for me in the basement and keep our guest
quiet until the cops had gone.
He gave me a grim smile in return. "Yes, sir."
When the cops entered my club, I bit my cheek to keep
my expression cool and neutral. It was Lieutenant Jeffries
again with a couple of less familiar faces, and he looked
like he wanted to be anywhere but here.
"Hades," he greeted me with a grimace. "This is a
surprise. We heard you had a big event over at Anarchy
tonight."
I pursed my lips, my arms loosely linked under my
breasts and my index finger tapping my forearm. "I just bet
you did. I found the need to visit some of my other venues
tonight. What can I do for you?"
He cleared his throat. "We've had another anonymous
tip."
I said nothing, letting the stupidity of that sentence hang
in the air between us, and watched Lieutenant Jeffries
sweat on it.
"I have to do my job, Hades," he told me with an edge of
frustration.
I raised one brow. "And what does your job require you
to do this evening, Jeffries? I seriously doubt you have the
required paperwork to conduct another drug search of my
club." I was playing dumb because I'd be an idiot to do
anything else.
"We've had a report of a murder here," he told me, his
expression tight. "Eyewitness says one of your, ah, dancers
was stabbed to death."
"Eyewitness, huh?" My sarcasm was heavy. "Same
witness who tipped you off about planted drugs at Pink
Panther, I'd bet." But I stepped aside, inviting him further
into the club, nonetheless. "You're welcome to come in
anyway. You'll see for yourself that there are no dead
strippers here."
One of the other cops sneered in my direction. "You've
probably already cleaned the scene."
Lieutenant Jeffries cringed like he was imagining
throttling his officer, but I just gave a polite smile in return.
"That would be awfully proactive of me. When did this tip
come through?"
"Ten minutes ago," Jeffries replied, shooting a death
glare at his officer. "I don't think even Hades can clean a
stabbing murder in ten minutes, Dickson."
I quirked a brow at Dickson and filed his face in my
brain for later. That was a dirty cop if I'd ever seen one and
on Chase's payroll I'd bet. And Jeffries was entirely right,
ten minutes would have been a pinch. Fifteen, though?
With a solid head start prior to the crime? Yeah, that was
doable. Just.
"We've got nothing to hide, Jeffries, see for yourself. But
we are in the middle of a staff meeting so I'd ask you to be
quick."
The lieutenant assured me they'd be quick, and his cops
scattered through the venue, searching for a murdered girl
who was currently on her way to be dissolved in acid well
away from Timberwolf territory.
It only took them ten minutes before an embarrassed-
looking Lieutenant Jeffries returned to me with his hat in
hand. "Hades, I apologize for the intrusion. Again. I hope
you understand, I—"
"Need to do your job. Yes, I understand. As do I." I kept
my expression neutral and let him draw his own
conclusions from that.
The cops cleared out, and I gave Rodney the go-ahead to
send his staff home. I had a meeting to conduct, and none
of my legit staff needed to get mixed up in that crowd.
"I'll stay on," Rodney offered. "You look like you could
use a drink."
That was an understatement. In the wake of the cops
departing, and with the FBI douche still parked outside
with his crappy little binoculars, I was ready to collapse
from stress.
But falling to pieces was a luxury I couldn't afford, so I
accepted his offer of a drink and ordered one for Lucas and
Zed while I was at it.
Cass arrived not long after the staff had left, his jaw
tight and his eyes blazing with anger as he looked around
the empty club.
"What fucking happened?" he demanded.
Zed gave him a sharp headshake, and I slid off my
barstool. "Cass, follow me; we can speak privately."
I trusted Rodney, to a point. But as Chase had proven
time and time again, he was awfully good at flipping
loyalties, and I wasn't going to take chances. So I led the
way out of the main bar and through to a private lap-dance
room down a short corridor. Cass followed me inside, and I
jerked the heavy velvet curtain shut before falling into his
arms.
He grabbed onto me, understanding what I needed
without being told. His mouth found mine, his lips
caressing me and easing the heavy tension on my mind as
his arms banded tight around me and took my feet off the
floor.
Eventually, though, he lowered me back to the carpet
and released my lips with a heavy sigh. "I could have
fucking murdered Zed for that kiss during my fight," he
growled, anger and frustration shining bright in his eyes.
I smiled. "I'm pretty sure that's the reaction he wanted."
I wrinkled my nose. "I forgot to turn the security system off
in the garage earlier."
Cass's scarred brow twitched, then his lips curled in a
smug smile. "Good."
I rolled my eyes. Cass and Zed were giving me whiplash
with how fast they switched from bromance to petty
jealousy. "Whatever. We have bigger issues tonight."
Cass's expression sobered. "I saw the meeting
invitation."
I gave a sigh. "Yep. It needs to happen. Chase tried to
frame someone for a murder here tonight. Sounds like one
of the girls was overdosing on PCP and stabbed herself to
death while fucking a client. I'd be willing to bet that,
somehow, the knife has the fingerprints of one of our staff
on it and that the customer would have conveniently
disappeared after leaving here."
Cass grimaced. "Creative."
I rubbed my eyes. "It's starting to give me a migraine."
"Boss," Zed called from outside the curtain, "Vega just
arrived. I'll take him downstairs."
"Thanks," I called back, then gave Cass a pained look. "I
guess it's time for business. You got Roach coming?"
He jerked a nod. "Yeah, he should be here soon."
I reached for the curtain, but he stopped me with a hand
on my wrist. With a deep frown, he pulled me back into his
embrace and tilted my chin up so our eyes could meet.
"Before we leave this room, I need to be perfectly
fucking clear with you about something." His voice was low
and rough, barely above a whisper. "I said it in my letter,
but I need to say it again, aloud, to make sure you believe
it." His rough hand cupped my face, and his nose brushed
mine. "I love you, Red."
My heart raced, my pulse fluttering uncomfortably fast,
and I swallowed heavily. "Don't give me that end of the
world crap, Saint. I've got this shit handled."
But I still closed the gap between us, kissing him with all
the emotion I was too stubborn and too broken to convey in
words. Then I peeled myself out of his grip and jerked the
curtain open. I had a meeting to conduct and yet another
message to send to Chase fucking Lockhart.
Cass shadowed me out to the main bar, then murmured
something about waiting for Roach while I headed for the
basement.
"Lucas," I called out. "You coming?"
He looked over at me from where he'd been waiting at
the bar. "Am I allowed to come?"
I gave him a small smile. "You're upper management
now. We can sort out your Timberwolf tattoo another day." I
flashed a quick wink at Cass, seeing as he was the best
tattoo artist in Shadow Grove.
Lucas grinned way too hard at that and hurried to catch
up with me as I headed down to the basement level. Zed
was already down there, his shirtsleeves rolled up to the
elbows, his tie gone, and extra guns on display. Vega and
his new second, Diego, were at the long banquet table in
the wine cellar, and someone had already set up a Zoom
call with both Ezekiel and Archer.
I entered the room and gave a tight smile to everyone.
"Gentlemen, thanks for joining me this evening. We're just
waiting on the Reapers and Vipers, then we'll get down to
business. I'll keep it quick; I know you all have better
things to be doing tonight."
I looked around for Alexi, then waved at him to join us at
the table as well. "Alexi, sit in on this."
"Who's your new friend, Hades?" Ezekiel asked, staring
at Lucas with far too much interest.
Zed answered for me, though. "Shut the fuck up,
Ezekiel," he barked. "If Hades wanted to introduce him,
she'd have done it."
Amusement rippled through me, and I turned a cold
smile to the laptop camera. "He's mine, Zeke. That's all you
need to know."
Goddamn Lucas and his gorgeous face were going to
give me gray hairs if he kept attracting attention from
dangerous parties because I could and would slaughter the
next person who laid unwanted hands on him. He was
mine, and I was more than capable of defending that claim.
"Understood, sir," Ezekiel replied, holding his hands up
defensively. "No offense intended."
Archer, on the other side of the screen, just shook his
head in disgust.
A moment later Cass entered the room with his second,
Roach. He took a seat across the table from me, and a
minute later Maurice arrived with his own second in tow.
"Excellent fight tonight, Cass," Maurice commented as
he sat down at the table. "You won me some pretty money."
Cass just glared in response, and I sensed Lucas fighting
a laugh.
I let silence build the tension for a moment, then drew a
breath. "Thank you all for attending on short notice. We've
had an incident here tonight that I feel needs to be
addressed. First and foremost, I think it's pertinent to
inform you who is responsible for the recent disruptions to
our business." I paused, letting my gaze trail over each and
every man in attendance. "Chase Lockhart is back from the
dead and waging a twisted little war on me. You're all
pawns on the board, so sharpen up or you'll be knocked
over."
Stunned silence met my announcement, so I continued.
"As I think most of you are aware, angel dust was the
Lockhart family trade, and that's what he's been using to
make his presence known within the Timberwolf territory. I
understand from speaking to several of you in the last week
that you've been having more incidents of PCP on your
streets and in your communities. Has anyone traced the
supply chain for me yet?"
More silence. Archer—calling in from Demi's house in
Italy—looked shell-shocked at my news, and Cass was a
goddamn statue across from me, his gaze locked on the
wood grain of the tabletop.
"No one?" I prompted, looking at Vega and Maurice,
even sparing a glance at Ezekiel, despite him being so far
removed from Shadow Grove. "No one can tell me how the
drugs are being distributed in our zones?"
Footsteps echoed down the stairs, then an uninvited
party entered the wine cellar. "Oh, pick me," Chase
suggested, his grin wide and smug. "I know."
Fury burned through me. The temptation to shoot him
was so high, but he'd more than proven he wouldn't make it
so easy. He survived the first time I’d thought I killed him,
and he'd have put considerably more contingencies in place
to royally fuck me over if I tried again now.
A muttered curse came from the laptop screen, and
Chase ducked down to peer at the display. "Oh, hello baby
D'Ath. Zeke. It's been too long, don't you think?"
"Chase," I said with an irritated sigh. "This is a closed
meeting; you weren't invited."
He shrugged. "Whoops. I might have let myself in by
shooting your guard upstairs. My bad." He gave another
unhinged grin. "But don't you want to know who’s been
peddling my dirty drugs in your streets, Darling? You know
I couldn't possibly have set up that much of a network
under your nose. You know I had to have help from
someone in this very room, especially since you wiped out
the Wraiths." He clicked his tongue, mocking me.
I ground my teeth together, biting back all the violent
curses sitting on the tip of my tongue. Then the words
dried up entirely with Chase's next confession.
"Good thing the Reapers stepped up to the plate, huh?
Where would I be without your help, Cassiel Saint?"
My whole body stiffened, ice forming down my spine,
and my chest ached like I'd just been stabbed. Cass slowly
raised his eyes from the table, meeting mine with pain and
guilt etched across his features.
"Bullshit," Archer scoffed from the video call. "Cass
would never—"
"Actually, sir," Alexi spoke up, "the douche from upstairs
started talking already. He said it was a guy with a Reaper
tatt that gave him the drugs Jessie took."
Chase's grin was so wide it was practically climbing off
his face. "Uh-oh. Do I smell trouble in paradise, Darling?
You and Saint were fucking recently, weren't you?" He gave
a low chuckle, his one-eyed gaze darting between Cass and
I with glee. "Well, this is awkward."
I drew a couple of deep breaths, desperately searching
for my strength, frantically clinging to my steel walls and
neutral expression, but I could feel it slipping.
"Cass," I started, then stopped myself when I heard how
raw my voice was. Shit. Shit.
His eyes were dark as he stared back at me, his frown
drawn deep, and his hands balled into fists on the table.
Instead of denying the accusation, he just shook his head.
"I'm sorry, Red," he croaked, resigned to his fate.
No one else in the room spoke. They all knew what
happened when someone crossed me. They'd seen it
before.
My mouth was bone dry, but I needed to swallow the
lump of emotion choking my throat. I could scarcely
breathe for fear of losing my shit all over the place, so I just
closed my eyes in a drawn-out blink, blocking Cass's
tortured face from my gaze.
I extended my hand to Zed, silently asking for his gun,
but he didn't give it to me.
"Zed," I snapped, glaring at him.
He just shook his head, though. "Don't do this," he told
me in a quiet voice. "Chase is lying. He's always lying. At
least investigate this first."
"He's not," Cass spoke up, his rough voice full of regret.
Roach's eyes bugged out, staring at his leader in horror
and silently shaking his head with denial. I noted that and
ground my teeth together. I had to handle this just like I'd
handle any other betrayal of this scale.
"Roach," I barked, "you've got one chance and once
chance only to tell me the truth."
The young gangster gaped at me like a fish for a
moment, then frantically shook his head. "I had no idea,
Hades, sir. None. I swear to you—"
"He wasn't involved," Cass interrupted. "This was all
me."
I turned my attention back to Zed, ignoring Chase still
standing in the doorway like a kid waiting for Christmas.
He'd get what was coming to him, sooner or later, but
tonight he had the upper hand.
"Give me your gun, Zed," I ordered, hardening myself
against the pleading in his eyes.
When he didn't move to hand it over, I reached down
and pulled one directly from the holster at his hip. He
didn't stop me, but he turned his gaze away in clear
disgust.
"Hayden, don't," Lucas muttered beside me. "Don't do
this; you'll regret it forever."
But that's where he was wrong. I never regretted killing
those who betrayed me. So I raised the gun, aimed it
straight at Cass across the table from me, and fired three
shots as he mouthed the words I love you.
His body jerked backward, tumbling out of the chair and
smashing several bottles of wine behind where he'd sat. For
a long moment, no one moved. No one spoke. I didn't even
breathe. Then Chase started clapping and laughing.
"Get out!" I roared, slamming the gun down on the table.
"All of you. Out."
The stunned gang leaders all did as they were told,
murmuring polite thanks as they hurried out of the wine
cellar. Vega and Diego needed to step over Cass's body and
the mess of blood and wine all over the floor.
Eventually, it was just Zed and Lucas left with me. And
Chase. The sick fuck sauntered over to Cass's body and
crouched down to dip his fingers in the spilled wine mixed
with blood.
"Well, this was entertaining," he commented, wiping his
bloody fingers on his shirt as he straightened up once
more. "One down, two to go."

To Be Continued
in CLUB 22
coming June 11 th, 2021

T urn the page to read Cass’s letter, and if you want to chat
spoilers for Hades? Join us in my dedicated SPOILER group
on Facebook:
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OceanofPDF.com
CASS’S LETTER

Red,
You told me tonight to write you a love letter. I'm at least
eighty percent sure you were joking, but whatever. Here it
fucking is. I'm not great with words, you already know this
though. So, I dunno. This might take me a while to write.
Hopefully you won't shoot me in frustration before I ever
finish, but with you... who knows?
I like that about you, though. How fierce you are, and
how you don't put up with anyone's bullshit. Fucking no
one scares you and that impresses the hell outta me. I'm
gonna be honest with you, Red. I don't have the first
fucking clue how to write a woman a love letter. Let alone a
woman like you. So I hope you'll excuse the lack of
structure and prose, and see this for what it is. Everything I
wanna say out loud, but can't. Everything that rattles
around in my brain when I look at you, but can't seem to
make the words leave my mouth.
Fuck you're beautiful. It's almost painful to look at you
and not touch you, not grab you and--
7th Circle exploded today and for a heartbeat, I thought
you were dead. And I thought my whole world was
crumbling around me, like my soul had been ripped clean
out of my body. Then I remembered who the fuck you are.
You’re Hades, for fucks sake. No one can kill you so easily.
You’re one step away from inhuman, at least in my eyes.
Roses are bloody, I’ve been blue, you’re a goddess and I
want to fuck you.
Just two kisses and you've left a permanent stain on my
soul, Angel.
I love when you challenge me. We harmonize, like a
filthy symphony.
Sometimes, I swear to fuck Red, sometimes I want to
throttle you. You're infuriating! The guilt you're carrying
tonight after finding Lucas in such a state made me want to
bundle you up in my arms and just let you fucking break for
five goddamn seconds. But we're not in a good place yet,
you'd never let me offer that sort of support. More to the
point, you'd never let yourself break. Not with me, not even
with Zed, I'd bet. You're carrying too damn much, though,
and sooner or later it's going to crush you if you don't
accept help from those who care about you.
I hope you know that I'm one of those people. I want to
be the one you turn to when it all gets too much. I want to
shoulder that weight and offer you a fucking break. You've
already dealt with so much.
You made a flippant comment tonight at the hospital
about me writing this letter, and it almost made me laugh.
You really didn't think I'd do it, and that tells me you've got
no idea how obsessed I am with you. Everything about you.
You've consumed my thoughts for five fucking years, Red.
Since the moment I met you, no woman has been able to
compare. They were all simply place-holders for the real
thing. You.
Here's the thing, though. I never thought we would ever
get to this point. I figured that picturing you in my mind
while I fucked some random faceless chicks with red hair
would be the best I could ever get.
Words can't express how glad I am to be wrong. I feel
like I owe you an explanation, though, for why I pushed you
away when you made your move.
In short, you shocked the crap outta me. I don't know
why I was so surprised, you aren't exactly the type of
woman to sit around and wait for a man to sweep her off
her feet. But... is it selfish to wish that I had done that for
you?
So, yeah, I handled it badly. I pushed you away because I
panicked. You're the woman I've literally dreamed about,
and suddenly you were within reach. Problem was, I knew--
still know--that I'm bad for you. And you deserve better, so I
tried to push you away. Look how that turned out, huh? I
was totally kidding myself. You're the brightest flame on
earth and I'm nothing more than a moth.
I'm bad for you, Red. So fucking bad. I'm damaged,
emotionally unavailable, cruel, reckless, and selfish. You
deserve so much fucking better. You deserve that fucking
stripper. Lucas. He's everything I'm not, and everything
that would be good for you. And yet, I can't seem to stay
away. So here I am, writing a fucking love letter like a
lovesick teen.
Love. Fucking hell. Pretty safe to say that's not an
emotion I'd ever thought to feel again. I thought that part
of my soul had curled up and died a long damn time ago. I
thought all I felt for you was obsession, infatuation... lust.
But I was wrong. It took these last few weeks for me to see
that. It wasn't until you so rightfully rejected my apology at
Anarchy to make it finally sink in.
I love you, Red. And if it takes me another five years to
make you see that, for you to forgive my insane behavior,
then so be it. I'm not going anywhere, and I'm not giving
up.
Almost every damn night, you're in my dreams. I can't
wait to get my hands on you properly. Those few kisses
have only made me desperate for more, made my fantasies
about you so much more graphic and real.
I dream about all the ways I want to fuck you. How tight
and hot your cunt will be around my cock, how sweet your
moans will be in my ears and the salty taste of your sweat
on my tongue as I bite your neck.
You know what you're getting into with me, I can see it
in your eyes. You want it rough, and that's exactly how it'll
be. I've thought long and hard about wrapping that
gorgeous red hair around my fist, holding you captive as I
fuck your ass. Every time you wet your lips, I picture them
wrapped around my cock as you swallow me deep, choking
on my cum as that sinful eye makeup stains your cheeks. I
want to taste your pussy, and make you scream my name as
you come all over my face. I want your thighs to grab my
head so tight I suffocate in your sweet cunt and drown in
your juices.
Red, I want to make you scream until you're hoarse, I
want your legs to shake so bad you can't walk, and I want
to see those perfect tits heaving as you struggle to catch
your breath.
There are so many things I want to do to you, with you,
for you... but instead of writing it all down, I'd much rather
play it all out in person.
Zed just called and asked me to come over to his place.
You must be in pain, if he's turning to me for help. Yet
somehow I can't help but feel glad. Because even though
you're hurting, it's giving me an excuse to get closer and
trust me, Angel, I won't back down again. I'll give you this
letter tonight, and hopefully you'll give me another chance.
If not, I'll just write another. And another. And another.
One day, maybe you'll believe me when I say how much I
love you, and will always love you.
So, fuck it. When you dream of me, make it rough. I
can't wait to make it a reality, then hold you afterwards.
Hold you forever.
- Cass
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COMING SOON

June 11 th, 2021

BOOKS2READ.COM/HADES3

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CLUB 22

They say to keep your enemies close and mine are all
around me. At the heart of it are four dangerously gorgeous
men. The man who wants to light my darkness and already
paid the price for loving me. The man who can handle my
power and loves every dark inch of me. The man who has
been my closest companion and now threatens to upend
our carefully balanced world in pursuit of me.

But the fourth man is probably the most terrifying. He


wants to take the others away. He wants to tear the spinal
column out my empire. Destroy my businesses. Destroy me.
Why?

Because the man who should have stayed dead wants me


and he will stop at nothing until he’s carved out my bloody,
beating heart and left me broken.

He should remember who he’s dealing with…I’m not the


girl he knew anymore.

I’m Hades.

This time when death comes for him, I’ll make sure it
sticks.

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A NOTE FROM TATE

Just two days after writing the ending of this book, I found
out that the model with originally inspired Cass, Chris
Kash, died very unexpectedly. In a touching message from
his family, we know that on his death, he donated his
organs and ultimately saved three lives in doing so.
His loss is a huge blow to the people who knew him, but
also to the book world as he was such a prolific and
recognizable face on so many romance covers. His final act
of kindness in saving those three lives with his organ
donation is unquestionably true to Cass’s character, so I
couldn’t be more proud and grateful to have Chris on the
cover for Club 22. In my mind, he will always be Cassiel
Saint.
My heart goes out to his family, and his beautiful wife. I
simply can’t imagine the pain they’re going through.

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ALSO BY TATE JAMES

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