by Tate James
"No," I cut him off, "you won't. He's mine to punish." There wasn't a single note of weakness or uncertainty in that statement, just cold determination.
Zed, of all people, knew how serious I was about that too. Chase would get what was coming to him, and it'd be at my hand. When he eventually met his maker, there would be no question who had sent him there. Painfully.
21
To my surprise—and Zed's, probably—I found myself crawling into his bed half an hour after I’d tried to go to sleep. I vaguely remembered mumbling about nightmares, then crashing out in his loose embrace.
Of course, then when I woke up some hours later, I had a moment of intense confusion and panic as I tried to remember where the hell I was.
"Fuck," I cursed on an exhale as Zed rubbed my back, soothing me. It'd only been a second, but he was right there with calming words and reassurances. "Fuck, I'm sorry. I forgot where I was."
I was trembling lightly and went willingly as Zed closed me back into his warm embrace. Somehow, sleeping with him had conditioned my skin to be used to his touch even more than before we fell asleep. I could almost pretend we were back to normal.
We stayed snuggled together as my trembles subsided, then Zed slipped back into sleep, his breathing slow and steady on my neck. I wanted to join him, but now that I was awake, I couldn't ignore the grumble in my stomach.
As carefully as I could, so as not to wake him, I slithered out of his bed and padded from the room. I needed a snack, or I wasn't getting back to sleep.
The lights were on in the kitchen, which seemed odd for the middle of the night. It wasn't until I walked in and spotted the big, tattooed gangster sitting at the kitchen table that I even remembered speaking to Cass about him coming home.
His head snapped up from the papers he was reading when I paused in the doorway, and his lips parted in surprise. When I said nothing, he pushed up out of his chair and took two steps toward me before I launched myself at him.
Fuck the noise, I missed my Grumpy Cat.
His strong arms caught me, wrapping around my back as I slammed into his body. I gave a hiss as I wrapped my arms around his neck—I'd taken my sling off—but pushed through the pain to hug him tight.
"Red," he growled into my hair. "I thought I was fucking dreaming."
"I was hungry," I mumbled back, relaxing my hold on him, and he slowly lowered me down to the floor. "So, I'm going to eat. Then you are going to explain just when the fuck you planted a GPS tracker on me and why in the hell you thought that would be a good idea."
Cass had the good sense to look guilty as hell, his gaze dipping away from my face as he rubbed a hand over his head. "I'll fix you something. Cheese and crackers work?"
And by that, apparently, he meant a whole ass cheese board with four different cheese varieties, a plum paste, and a variety of cracker options. It all only took him five minutes to prepare, too.
"Cassiel Saint," I murmured when he served it up in front of me with a sharp little knife to cut the hard cheeses, "have you been holding out on us? I thought Zed was the only chef in the house."
He just answered me with a sly grin. "So, you and Zed sorted things out?"
I hummed a sound of confirmation, taking a bite of my first cracker loaded with plum paste and a slice of vintage cheddar. "Did he explain it all to you?" I asked when I'd swallowed.
Cass shook his head. "I wasn't interested in hearing it. You were the only one he needed to explain himself to, and I trusted you to make the right call."
Well, that squeezed me right in the heart. Goddamn, Cass made it very hard to stay mad about the GPS tracker.
He watched me with dark eyes as I ate my cheese and crackers, then leaned forward on the counter with his elbows resting on the edge. "I'm not going to apologize for the tracker," he rumbled, like he wanted to start a fight.
I narrowed my eyes and licked some brie from my finger before replying. With my middle finger. Aimed directly at him.
"When did you do it?" I asked instead of taking the argument bait.
His brow quirked briefly, and he dragged his thumb over his lower lip, thinking about his answer—probably wondering how much worse his answer might make the situation.
"In my apartment," he admitted after a moment's silence, "after I made you come six times back to back and you passed out cold. You already had bruises and scrapes all over that gorgeous skin; one extra mark went totally unnoticed."
A deep shudder ran though me at the dark, possessiveness in his tone. In his eyes. He wasn't sorry at all. And I was weirdly more turned on than furious about it.
"Why?" I demanded, hardening myself against my natural reaction to everything Cassiel Saint. Fuck, this man could get under my skin something wicked.
He heaved a long exhale, tipping his head to the side as he stared back at me. "Because when you were lying there in my bed, naked and so fucking serene... I knew that you were my whole reason for existing. My whole damn reason. Then I started thinking about all your enemies, all the threats to your empire, and the bastards who would constantly be challenging the woman in criminal power. I sat there for hours, letting the worst scenarios play out in my mind, and I just..." He trailed off with a frustrated head shake. "I had to do something to keep you safe. Even if you didn't know about it."
I swallowed hard. "That's how you found me at the lookout that night?"
He nodded. "I don't check it constantly. You're not my fucking pet. It's only for emergencies. Like if you were abducted by your psychotic, obsessed, serial killer ex."
Well, when he put it in context like that, it made it really hard to stay mad about the whole situation.
I drew a deep breath, thinking it over, and Cass came around to where I sat. His fingers stroked a patch of skin at the back of my neck, showing me where the chip was planted. No wonder I hadn't noticed it after how rough our bedroom antics had been that night.
"Do you want it removed?" he asked in a low rumble.
Did I? That chip, no matter how sneaky inserting it had been, had saved my ass. Big time. As much as I liked to think I'd escaped Chase all on my own, I was also sane enough to know that if Zed hadn't showed up when he had... if Cass hadn't picked me up in that helicopter... I'd have never made it out.
"I need to think on it, Cass," I murmured. "You never should have done it without my knowledge, and you damn well know it."
His lips curled in a half smile. "You'd never have agreed, and you damn well know it. I won't apologize for doing it, because it means I still have you here to yell at me. But I am sorry for hiding it from you. Now, more than ever, I know how important truth and trust are for us." He flicked his eyes toward the ceiling and the second level, where Zed and Lucas slept. "For all of us."
I pulled the edge of my lip between my teeth, considering his question. Did I want the tracker removed? No. Not really. It kind of made me feel safe knowing Cass could find me anywhere. Or almost anywhere. Bad luck that Chase had created a faraday cage within his house to block the signal.
"If you're not too angry, I had an idea that you might be into." Cass gave me a darkly mischievous look and excitement sparked within me.
"Oh yeah?" I replied, pushing my almost empty cheese board aside. "I'm listening."
His lips tugged in a grin. "Go change into something black, and easy to move in."
With a hint like that, who was I to argue? Without question, I hurried back up to my room and changed out of my sleeping clothes. When I was dressed in activewear leggings and a long sleeve black top, I tugged on a pair of converse sneakers that looked more like they belonged to Seph than me.
"Ready," I announced when I returned to the kitchen. Cass was already head-to-toe in black, standard Saint attire, so he'd just been waiting for me.
He motioned for me to spin around, then tugged his fingers through my hair, weaving it into a messy braid and securing it with my hair tie.
"Perfect," he murmured before pressing a soft kiss to my temple. "Let's go befor
e one of these other assholes wakes up and wants to tag along."
He tucked my hand in his, and we quietly made our way to the garage. Cass pushed his bike out into the driveway, then indicated for me to get on before he fired it up. He didn't grab helmets for either of us, so instinct told me we weren't going far.
Sure enough, he stopped the bike at the bottom of the driveway, inside the main gate to Zed's property, and helped me off.
He grabbed a bag from behind a bush that he must have left there earlier, then shot me a smirk as he held the gate open for me to slip out.
"I'm all kinds of curious right now, Saint," I admitted as he slung the bag over his shoulder and led the way across the street. When he stopped beside Chase's fence and tossed the bag over, I stiffened with uncertainty.
He reached out a hand to me, the invitation clear. "Do you trust me, Red?"
Anxiety rippled through me, but despite myself, I placed my hand in his. "Yes. You don't fucking deserve it, but yes. Implicitly."
A full smile lit his face and he reeled me in with strong fingers around my hand. "Well then, let's do this quick. I promise, Red, this will be therapeutic."
I let him boost me over the fence, then he dropped down beside me with a quiet grunt.
"There's no one here," he assured me. "I thoroughly cased it before coming home. Wanted to make sure that one-eyed fuck wasn't lurking over here with his binoculars or something. Doesn't look like anyone has been here in weeks."
That made me feel a tiny bit less anxious, but still I gripped his fingers tight as we made our way up to the house.
Sure enough, the whole place was dark and silent. I expected Cass to pick a lock or something, but he reached into the garden and pried out a brick.
"Go on," he coaxed, holding the brick out for me to take. "It'll make you feel great."
With a short laugh of disbelief, I took the brick and hefted it in my hand. "If there's an alarm, we're going to have to run like hell," I reminded him.
"There's not. Just throw the brick, Red."
That was all the encouragement I needed. I hoisted the brick to my shoulder and let it sail through the window of the back door. Glass shattered, the sound of it jarring in the silent night air, but no alarms sounded.
"Told you," Cass chuckled, reaching through the broken window to unlock the door. "Mind your feet on the glass."
He steadied me with his hand as I stepped over the broken glass and followed him further into the house. Chills of anxious energy rippled through me with every step we took, but Cass was right. Breaking that window had shaken something loose inside me and lightened the heavy darkness in my mind a little.
"What the fuck," I muttered when we came out into the living room. Or what was supposed to be the living room. There was no furniture, but every available surface—walls, floor, windows, even the ceiling—was covered in text. Jagged, often illegible handwriting. Random words and sentence fragments, but over and over... Darling. On one wall, from floor to ceiling, the Darling logo that Zed had designed was painted. On closer inspection, though, I got a chilling feeling that it wasn't paint.
"This was supposed to make me feel better?" I muttered to Cass, my expression incredulous. "I'm going to have nightmares from this for weeks."
He gave the room a disgusted look, then tugged his bag open. "This? Hell no. This is creepy as fuck. This is what will make you feel better." He fished something out of the bag and held it out to me in his palm.
I peered closer at what he was offering me, then jerked my gaze back up to meet his eyes. "Is that—"
"Yup." His toothy grin flashed in the moonlight streaming from the windows. "Got a whole stack of them just begging to be used." He jiggled the bag to demonstrate, and I barked a sharp laugh.
"God damn," I muttered. "You really do know the way to a girl's heat, Saint."
He took a step closer, curling my fingers around the explosive device, then kissed my knuckles. "I'd burn the whole fucking world down for you, Angel."
Ugh. Be still my heart.
"All yours," he told me, handing over the bag as he released my hand. "You know how to set them?"
I scoffed, shooting him a dirty look. "Do I know how to fucking set them?" I muttered, outraged. "How dare you?"
Humming a happy tune, I wandered through Chase's mostly empty mansion, placing and activating explosive devices as I went. I didn't want to go overkill and waste them. I knew firsthand how expensive the bastards were. But I sure as fuck wanted to ensure the whole house was little more than rubble when we were done.
Other than the living room, the only other room with any signs of habitation was the bedroom. Inside there was just a mattress on the floor and about seventeen thousand photos of me decorating every surface.
It was creepy enough, feeling so many of my own eyes staring back at me, that I barely took two steps into the room and just tossed an activated explosive device onto the mattress.
When I returned back downstairs, I found Cass waiting near the door we'd entered through.
"All done?" he asked, his hands tucked lazily in his pockets. Fuck, he was gorgeous.
I nodded, then sniffed the air. "Is that gas?"
His smirk was pure evil. "It seemed fitting."
I gave a low laugh as we left the house, a slight edge of hysteria shining through. The excitement and satisfaction of what we were doing pumped through me like the sweetest drug, and I couldn't wipe the smile from my face.
We hurried back down to the property boundary, and Cass boosted me over the fence once more with his strong hands firm on my waist. After he climbed over, he handed me the remote detonator.
I bit my lip, wrapping my fingers around the device as I peered up at him.
"What's wrong?" he asked when I didn't press the button.
I shook my head. "Nothing. Just..." Butterflies were going crazy inside me, and for the first time since my arrest, I felt totally alive. "Kiss me."
Cass didn't hesitate, gripping the back of my neck and crushing his mouth to mine in a rough, demanding kiss that flooded me with desire. His teeth scraped my lower lip, tugging playfully, and I groaned. Then pressed the detonator button.
Sixteen remote explosive devices all triggered simultaneously, igniting the gas we'd left filling the house. The collective sound was deafening, and for a moment we stood there, gaping at the fireball that had just shot up into the night sky. Then our lips were crashing back together in a desperate kiss.
Cass tugged me into the shadows beside Zed's front gate, his hands sweeping down my sides as I curved my body closer against him.
"Remember how you said you trust me?" he rumbled in a breathless whisper just a millimeter from my lips. Words failed me, but I nodded.
"Good," he murmured, turning me around to put my back to his chest. His face dipped to the bend of my neck, kissing me with lingering caresses. "Stop me at any time."
A short flash of confusion rippled through me, then his hands shifted around to the button of my jeans to flick it open. I stiffened up as he dragged my zipper down, my breath locked inside my chest, but I didn't stop him. There was no doubt in my mind I wanted him to continue. And I trusted him. Cass read my body better than anyone.
The flames licked the horizon in front of us, and I let my breath release as I acknowledged why Cass had turned me around. He wanted me to see the result of our handiwork. He wanted me to watch Chase's house burn down, all those pictures of me turning to ash inside the destroyed structure.
His teeth teased at the skin of my neck, and I groaned, relaxing into his hold once more. He whispered reassurances to me, and his hand slipped down the front of my jeans.
"Red," he groaned as he stroked me through my panties, "you're such a goddess. Blowing shit up gets you hot, huh?"
I gave a slightly nervous laugh, riding the razor edge of arousal and trauma while Cass blanketed me with his huge frame. "Violence and destruction," I murmured back, jerking slightly as his fingers slipped beneath the fabric of my p
anties and stroked me deeper. "It's part of our love language, isn't it?"
He responded with a throaty chuckle as he circled my clit with his thumb, making me squirm in his arms. "You're right about that, Angel." He continued teasing me, working me up.
I was so tightly wound. Between my fear and anxiety, worry that we might be caught, and almost overwhelming arousal, I was a goddamn mess.
Cass knew exactly how to handle me, though. His lips brushed my ear, his low voice coaxing and reassuring as his fingers brought me right to the edge.
"Trust me, Angel," he encouraged as I tensed up, fighting the release. "Trust me to keep you safe."
Fuck. With a pained whimper, I locked my eyes on the roaring flames of Chase's burning house and let go.
The orgasm flooded through me, making my muscles lock up and jerk, my head toss back against Cass's chest, and my hips writhe. Instantly, I knew I was okay. I was better than okay. Because the kind of climax Cass drew out of me didn't have a single thing in common with the drug-induced, forced orgasms Chase had stolen. They were as different as giraffes and rocks, and the realization filled me with such intense relief I started laughing.
Pulling his hand from my jeans, Cass spun me around again so he could study my face. When I just gave him a loopy grin, he kissed me softly and muttered how much he loved me.
22
I slept the rest of the night curled up in Cass's arms, and when I woke up, I wasn't instantly flooded with panic and confusion, just the intense feeling of security and warmth. The addictive, intoxicating knowledge that I was safe and loved.
Cass tightened his loose grip around my waist when I started to crawl out of bed, pulling me back into his embrace for a long and slow kiss.
"You doing okay?" he asked in a sleepy voice, his eyes barely open a millimeter.
I took a second to give myself a quick mental health check before I nodded and kissed him back. "I'm great," I corrected. "Last night was exactly what I needed. Thank you."
