by Tate James
His knife. A deadly sharp bastard, eight inches long and crafted from Damascus steel.
I stared at it for a long moment, then reached over and picked it up. My hand curled around the handle, testing the grip and weight, even as fresh tears poured from my eyes. Then I tucked it under my pillow, just as Zed must have intended. He knew me. He knew what made me tick and what would make me feel safe. Being armed, no matter how secure the house was, would ease my mind.
That display of knowledge... fuck. I both loved and hated him for it.
I hated myself for it.
Because despite how much he'd hurt me, despite his betrayal and everything it had caused, I still fucking loved him with my whole sullied soul.
10
When I'd made the decision to send Lucas back to Shadow Grove in my place, I hadn't really considered the logistics, like, say, how he was getting from Foxglove Manor back to Shadow Grove. Because, apparently, they hadn't brought any cars to our hideout. Just the helicopter.
"I feel like I'm discovering new shit about you every damn day, Saint," I muttered as he helped me dress after another shower. There could never be too many showers, and I needed to force myself through my sudden fear of drowning.
He'd just informed me that he’d been the helicopter pilot. I don't know why I’d expected anything less, though. Cassiel Saint, international man of mystery and drop-dead sexy asshole.
"It's been a few years since I was in a cockpit," he admitted, gently brushing my hands aside and buttoning my shirt up for me. After I'd struggled with the T-shirt yesterday, someone had found me a men's button-down shirt to wear instead—infinitely easier to get on and off, that was for damn sure.
Lucas snorted a laugh from where he was slouched on my bed. "That much was obvious. I thought you were going to crash us straight into the side of a hill when we first took off."
Cass flipped him off with a scowl. "It's like riding a bike," he growled. "But it means you'll be here alone until I can get back."
"She's not alone," Zed snapped, pushing the bedroom door open. "I'm still here." Fucking hell, if that wasn't a loaded statement, I didn't know what was.
Shooting him a death glare, I nodded. "Right, so, worse than alone. Perfect. I'll be sure to keep my back to the wall so no one can stick a knife in it."
Zed winced, and I remembered too late that he'd quite literally taken a knife in his back while rescuing me. "Well, you're sounding more like yourself."
I scowled, a sharp comeback right on the tip of my tongue, but Lucas beat me to it. He hopped up off the bed and shoved Zed back out of the room with a hand to his face, then slammed the door.
Stunned, I gave a short laugh. "That's one way to shut him up. He's probably just lurking in the hallway, though."
Lucas shrugged. "Definitely. He's been sitting out there pretty much twenty-four seven since we got you back."
My brows shot up, but Cass just muttered some shit under his breath about a guilty conscience.
Changing the subject, I refocused on the conversation we'd been having before Zed interrupted. "How long will you be gone?" I asked Cass quietly, hearing the need in my voice and cringing at it. "Doesn't matter. However long it takes, I'll be just fine. It's more important to get some leadership back into Shadow Grove. Fucking Maurice has another thing coming if he thinks he can take anything that's mine."
Carefully, watching me like a fucking hawk, Cass grazed his knuckles over my cheek. I stiffened slightly but didn't flinch away, so he did it again with a little more purpose.
"I will be back as fast as that helo can fly, Angel," he promised me in a low, husky voice. "Even if it means kicking Gumdrop out before landing."
"Dick," Lucas muttered, but my eyes were locked on Cass.
I wanted to kiss him. It would have been as natural as breathing to just lean forward and press my mouth to his. But my mind and body were in disagreement, and I remained locked in place like a fucking statue.
"Don't do anything stupid," I warned him instead. "I can handle Zed."
And by that, I meant I could more than happily stay put in bed with the door locked and his dagger gripped in my hand. I'd fallen a hell of a long way from the badass gang leader who could make grown men pee their pants with nothing more than a glare.
"If you decide to kill him, make sure he cooks dinner first," Cass suggested. "I don't want you going hungry if I get delayed."
I snorted a laugh, but knew damn well he was serious. He hovered near but not touching as I climbed back into bed. Lucas had already checked all my dressings and lined up my medication beside the bed, so I was all sorted.
"If you do decide to kill him," Lucas added, not bothering to keep his voice down. If Zed really was just outside the door, he'd be able to hear us discussing his death. Good. He fucking deserved it. "Then I hope you will listen to his side of everything first. I'm not saying it will justify anything—far fucking from it—but for your own peace of mind, you should have the full story."
That rendered me speechless, and Cass glared at Lucas like he'd just grown six heads and a fucking tail.
"Screw that," Cass muttered. "Just make it hurt. I'll clean up the blood when I get back. You shouldn't be inhaling peroxide right now."
With a laugh, I shook my head at both of them. "You two are too much." Then I paused and forced my way through yet more damage. "I love you, though." My words were so quiet, so rough, I wouldn't be surprised if they hadn't heard me at all.
Cass leaned in close, his short beard brushing my neck. "I love you more than life itself, Angel. I'll be back before you know it."
He straightened up and left the room with a muttered comment to Lucas on his way out, and I locked my eyes on the wall across the room. Tears heated my face, and if I met Lucas's gaze, I would totally lose it.
Silently, he came around the bed and sank to his knees beside where I lay. Carefully, not wanting to startle me, he reached out and closed his hand over my fist clenched in my lap.
I inhaled at the touch, then relaxed my hand so he could link our fingers.
"Hayden," he murmured. "Words quite literally can't express how much I love you. There is no doubt in my mind: You're it for me. You don't just own my heart, babe, you are my heart. Without you, nothing matters. Every minute of the twelve days, four hours, and fifteen minutes you were gone, I was dead inside."
Oh fuck. There was no stopping the tears now, and they only got worse when Lucas tenderly swiped a knuckle under my eye.
"Thank you," I whispered, "for not giving up."
His smile was full of warmth and adoration but tainted by sadness. "It was a team effort." As quick as lightning, he dropped a kiss to the back of my hand, then untangled our fingers and stood up. "I should go before Daddy Cass comes to drag me out of here."
A sob caught in my throat, and I sputtered. "Never call him that again, please."
Lucas grinned wide, proud he’d stopped my tears with humor. "Why not? He's old, for starters, and he oozes dom energy. Daddy Cass just fits."
I groaned and scrubbed a hand over my face, swiping the tears away and pulling myself together. "Call me when you get back to Shadow Grove, okay? Lean on Demi in private, but remember when you're in public—"
"I know," he cut me off with a smile. "I'm Hades now. Nowhere near as beautiful, but it's only temporary." He gave a shrug, then blew me a kiss on his way out the door.
After he was gone, I lay there staring at the ceiling for ages. It wasn't until the hum and whir of the helicopter faded away into the distance that I decided I needed to do something to keep the dark thoughts at bay. I needed to keep busy.
But with what? I was a fucking fugitive until Demi could get everything squared away with the FBI. More than that, I couldn't risk painting a target on anyone for Chase to take a shot at. Gen was already dead. Who would be next? Hannah? Nadia?
Fuck. If he went after Nadia...
Visions of all the gruesome, bloody, violent acts I'd like to do to Chase filled my mind, play
ing out with such detail I could almost smell the copper in the air. But as quickly as those fantasies came, they morphed into memories of the things he'd done to me. Not just recently, but in our past too. Memories of things I'd long since locked away and had no intention of taking out to re-examine. No. Fucking. Thank you.
My eyes snapped back open, and I swiped sweat from my face.
I needed to just not think for a while.
My eyes lit on the huge flat-screen TV mounted opposite the bed. I'd spent much of the three days since escaping Chase asleep. I'd needed it because every time I woke, I had more energy.
Except now I was too awake to sleep and too hurt and pissed off to leave my room and potentially run into Zed. So I huffed a sigh and grabbed the remote from where Lucas had placed it beside my medication.
Way too quickly, I flipped channels without really paying attention to what was on them. Most of it was reality TV shows, I think, and a handful of soap operas. It was the middle of the day, after all.
With an irritated sigh, I decided on an Israeli soap opera with subtitles, mainly because they were pretty reliable for the worst kinds of unbelievable plotlines. Shit like secret evil twins popping out at the perfect time or total amnesia making people forget their friends and family. I'd even seen one where a woman had no idea she'd had a baby until she met the girl eight years later and thought she looked familiar. Shit like that simply didn't happen in real life, so that was the energy I needed. Crap that took suspension of disbelief way too far.
Initially I was rolling my eyes every three seconds, but before I knew it, I was hooked.
So much so that I didn't hear the door open.
"You're not seriously watching this," Zed muttered in disbelief. "There must be something better on."
My eyes had been glued to the damn screen reading the subtitles because my Israeli was about as good as my Chinese. Terrible.
"Fuck off, Zed," I tossed at him, then shifted my eyes back to the screen.
He let out a long, pained sigh. "I figured we could talk."
My answering laugh was pure venom. "You figured wrong. Get the hell out of my room."
He didn't move from his position against the doorframe, just folded his arms over his chest and glared back at me. Fuck him for still looking so goddamn gorgeous while being a dirty, poisonous snake in the grass.
"Dare..." he started, but my anger flared hot to hear my nickname on his lying lips. So I hurled the TV remote at his head.
Stupid me, though, I used my left arm to throw, and my injured shoulder shrieked at me in pain. I should be wearing the sling that Doc had left for me, but it made me sweaty so I'd been leaving it off more than on.
"Jesus, Dare, what the fuck were you thinking?" Zed barked, coming two steps into the room before I held up my palm to stop him.
"I was thinking I want you to shut the fuck up!" I shouted back, still wincing as I cradled my arm to my chest. "Get out, Zed. I owe you nothing. I definitely don't owe you the chance to explain. Get. The. Fuck. Out. You're dead to me."
Every word out of my mouth tore shreds off my heart, but I couldn't hold it back. I wanted him to hurt like he'd hurt me.
His jaw clenched, and he gave a small nod. "You're wrong about that," he murmured, his eyes blazing with determination.
I scoffed. "Oh, am I?"
He nodded again, retreating to the door once more. "If I were dead to you, you'd have thrown the knife, not the remote." With a pointed look, he closed my door behind himself and left me to my crappy TV.
11
After Zed's little visit, I couldn't get back into my foreign soap opera. Fuck him for ruining it, too. I'd been just about to find out whether the badly burned hero had gotten a total face transplant or not.
Asshole.
Then, to add insult to injury, I realized the remote had landed all the way over near the door after bouncing off his lying face.
Muttering curses to myself, I climbed out of bed and went to fetch it so I could flip the channel over to the news. While I was out of bed, though, I took note of how stiff my muscles were. I was stronger now, thanks to nutritious food, water, and sleep. Doc had boosted me with some medication too. So there was really no reason for me to stay in bed all day.
With a grimace, I tossed the remote back onto the bed and started running my body through some very gentle stretches. Only a couple of minutes in, I needed to admit defeat and put my sling on to support my bad shoulder. It was just too hard not to use it, despite how badly it hurt.
"Have you taken some painkillers for that?" Zed asked, appearing in my doorway again. Christ, he just couldn't take a hint.
Shooting him a glare, I adjusted the Velcro strap to hold my arm a bit tighter, then flipped him off with my good hand.
"Pretty sure I made myself clear earlier, Zayden. Fuck off."
He gave me a brittle smile. "You did. But no one else is here, so I came to ask what you wanted for lunch. You've still got to eat."
"I'm well aware," I snapped. Chase hadn't totally starved me for those twelve days, but it was safe to say at least two of the three main meals each day had been pure chemicals injected into my veins. I'd carefully avoided looking at the angry marks on my inner elbow but couldn't escape the way my ribs protruded when I looked in the mirror after a shower. "I don't care, Zed. Just... leave me the hell alone. Simply looking at you makes me so goddamn angry I could shoot you."
He dipped his head. "Fair. Good thing I gave you a knife and not a gun, then." He paused, then passed a hand over his short hair. "I'll bring something up in an hour or so. Unless you want to come downstairs and eat with me?"
The look on my face must have said exactly what I thought of that suggestion because he huffed a short, bitter laugh. "Yeah, I thought so. Don't push yourself too hard."
I rolled my eyes. "Don't pretend like you care, Agent De Rosa."
Blowing out a breath, he nodded and closed my door again. There was a long pause before his footsteps sounded in the hall, like he’d just stood there for a minute.
Why the fuck he was still here, I had no idea. Maybe he was just waiting for me to shoot him and have it over with. That seemed like his style. He never was one to run and hide.
Fueled by anger, I turned the volume down on the TV so it was little more than background noise and went back to my exercises. Aside from my ribs, nothing else was broken. So there was no reason to let my body soften and weaken any further. If I wanted to get back to my life, to get my plan back on track, then I needed to regain my strength. Fast.
Eventually, though, my body forced me to stop and rest. A storm had rolled in while I was stretching, and I hobbled over to the window to pull the curtains open properly. There was something so soothing about the sound of pouring rain, so I opened one of the windows to hear it better.
I retreated back to my bed to rest, but the constant edge of anxiety didn't melt away at all. Despite how calming I usually found rain, my new wariness of water in general was casting a dark shadow. Fucking Chase was ruining everything.
My depressing thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening again, and I blinked several times to bring my head back into the present. How long had I been staring out the window like that?
"Lunch," Zed announced rather unnecessarily, as he was carrying a tray of food. I really needed to get my ass downstairs and make my own meals. The idea that I was depending on him for anything rubbed me the wrong way.
Rich, mouthwatering smells reached my nose, and my stomach rumbled.
"Lamb ragu with sweet potato mash," he informed me, placing the tray down on the bed beside me and not getting any closer than he needed to.
In fairness, Zed was an incredible cook. His mom had taught him before she'd murdered his father and disappeared—most likely died—leaving Zed an orphan at age fifteen.
"This storm will probably delay Cass getting back," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Can't fly a helicopter in this weather."
"No shit," I
grumbled. I'd thought the same thing when the rain had started, but I was hoping the storm would pass over quickly. It was roughly a two-hour helicopter flight back to Shadow Grove from Foxglove Manor. By the time he’d dropped Lucas off, collected the supplies Demi was arranging for us, refueled the helicopter, and flown back...
I checked the time on the TV and frowned. "He should already be on his way."
Zed just gave a shrug. "He'll likely wait until the storm passes. Guess you're stuck with me a bit longer." He arched a brow in a clear challenge, and I seethed. Was he deliberately taunting me? Did he want me to kill him?
Maybe he did.
Something on the news caught my attention, though, and I gave a startled gasp. Zed was halfway out my door but stiffened when he heard me, spinning around to scan the room with sharp eyes.
"Shut up," I snapped, even though he hadn't spoken. I scrambled for the remote, turning the sound up so I could hear what the reporter was saying—the reporter who stood under an umbrella, grim-faced in front of what seemed to be helicopter wreckage in the field behind her.
"No," I breathed, my chest tight with fear. "No, not possible."
I couldn't make sense of what the reporter was saying. The words just weren't sinking in, drowned out by my own fears and panic. Had Cass crashed? He’d said he was rusty...
"...look at me," Zed's voice cut through the rushing in my head. "Dare, baby, come on, look at me. Listen. It's not Cass."
That cracked through, snapping my eyes away from the TV screen to lock with Zed's gaze just a few inches away. His palms were on my cheeks, and I jerked away with a sharp inhale.
Hurt flashed across his face, but he sat back a little more to give me space.
"It was a light aircraft," he continued, indicating to the TV. "Scenic flight. Not Cass. Look." He held up his phone, showing me a text from someone saved under Grumpy Fuck.
