Club 22 (Hades Book 3)

by Tate James

  "Zed," I whispered, hoarse with need. He heard me, though, and heard a hell of a lot more than just his name. He raised his face from my neck and caught my lips with his in a kiss that shattered my reservations like a hammer against fragile glass. I leaned into him as his tongue traced the line of my lips, coaxing them apart so his mouth could devour me in the sweetest way.

  His hand moved to my thigh, sliding up the bare length from my knee and teasing at the short hem of my dress. I wasn't even worried about the fact that we were in public where anyone could see us. I just so badly wanted his hand under my skirt, for him to finish what he’d started in my bedroom when I’d challenged him.

  "Well, I have to say I didn't expect this kind of show tonight," a sickeningly familiar voice said, and a deep shudder of revulsion ran through me as I pulled out of Zed's embrace.

  Outrage, disgust, and fury vied for dominance within me as I glared absolute, violent death at my ex-fiancé, who'd just dragged a chair over from another table and sat his ass down.

  "Chase," I hissed. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

  Zed radiated tension beside me, his fingers on my waist tight enough to leave bruises, but I wasn't complaining. "Oh, damn," he growled. "Looks like this club has a roach infestation."

  Chase, smarmy fuck, just clicked his tongue and grinned. "Now, now, no need to be hostile. It's so rare to find you two alone these days; I couldn't resist the opportunity to catch up. Just like old times, hey Darling?" He shot me a lascivious wink that made me want to gag.

  Then again... "Was that a wink or a blink?" I pondered aloud. "So hard to tell." There was no mistaking the venomous glare he responded with, though, and I snorted a laugh.

  "Fuck off, Chase," Zed drawled, deliberately forcing a slouch into his posture, like Chase was beneath our concern. Like he was nothing more than an annoyance. "Dare and I were in the middle of something."

  Chase ran his tongue over his teeth. "So I saw. Please, don't let me stop you. Continue." He waved a hand and sat back in his seat like he was settling in for a show. Deluded fucker.

  Simmering with anger that he'd ruined what was turning out to be a pretty great night with Zed, I sat forward and picked up my cocktail to take a sip. It gave me a moment to gather my thoughts and formulate a quick plan.

  "Fuck this," Zed spat. "Let's go somewhere with a more discerning guest list, babe." He punctuated that suggestion with a slow and deliberate kiss to my shoulder, marking his territory as surely as if he'd pissed all over me. Luckily, this was one situation I didn't even remotely mind it. It infuriated Chase, and that made me smug as fuck.

  "Actually," I replied, humming thoughtfully, "maybe Chase has a point. We could just have a drink and talk out our differences like adults. After all, the three of us used to be closer than blood. Remember that, Chase?" I tipped my head to the side, forcing softness and sincerity into my eyes.

  His single eye narrowed at me suspiciously, and his gaze darted to Zed, then back to me. A brittle smile creased his lips. "How could I forget? We were going to rule the world together." He snapped his fingers in the air, calling for one of the waitresses in a latex bodysuit. "Three Sazeracs, gorgeous," he demanded when the woman stopped to take his order.

  She nodded and murmured acknowledgement, then leaned down to gather our almost empty glasses. As she bent over the table, though, Chase grabbed a rough handful of her breast, squeezing and twisting until she cried out in pain.

  It took every inch of my willpower not to pull a gun and shoot him right then and there. The fury made my hands shake, and I needed to disguise the tremor by pulling my phone from my purse. Forcing myself to ignore the way Chase assaulted the waitress right in front of us, I swiped through my phone and checked messages.

  He was taunting me, testing me. As badly as I abhorred sexual assault, it'd take more than that for me to show my hand. Not when I'd invested so damn much into my long game. My plan to deal with Chase wouldn't be so simple as splattering his brains all over the pretty floor of Meow Lounge. Nor would it be so quick and painless.

  So I swallowed my disgust and kept my calm as he released her and left her to retrieve our drinks from the bar.

  "I see some things haven't changed," Zed drawled. "You still can't get women willingly."

  Chase barked a sharp laugh. "It's always more fun when they scream and fight back. Isn't that right, Darling? I can still hear your sweet, terror-filled screams like it was just yesterday. Tell me, gorgeous, are you still afraid of the dark?"

  I locked down my emotions tight, not allowing even a hint of my true reaction to crack through my expression. Chase wanted me to play his game, and he was shit out of luck.

  "Nothing scares me anymore, Chase," I replied in a cool voice, meeting his hungry eye unflinchingly. "Nothing and no one."

  He held my gaze for a long moment, a sick smile playing across his lips. "I don't think I believe that, Darling girl. You thought you were so untouchable once before, too. Remember? When really all you needed was the right motivation to scream for me. A bigger monster and blacker darkness." He gave a sexual groan, biting his lip as he reminisced.

  I drew a steady breath, desperately clinging to my inner calm and drawing strength from Zed's solid warmth glued to my side. He was keeping quiet, letting me handle Chase, but he also made it abundantly clear that he was more than ready to jump in if I needed him to.

  "Is that what you did to Maryanne Green?" I asked, taking a guess. "Made her scream while you got your rocks off, then killed her?"

  Chase tilted his head to the side. "I don't believe I know anyone by that name. Then again, I don't tend to exchange names with my prey. None of them really matter; they're just warm-ups. Appetizers. Only the main course can really sate my hunger."

  It wasn't hard to guess what the main course was. Or who.

  I bit the inside of my lip, thinking. But my phone vibrated in my purse, breaking my concentration. I pulled it out and saw Lucas's name on the caller ID, so I shot Chase a tight smile. "Excuse me a moment," I murmured, sarcastically polite.

  Without waiting for his response, I slipped out of Zed's embrace and took a couple of steps away from the table before answering the call.

  "Hey, Lucas," I said, bringing the phone to my ear. I kept one eye on Zed and Chase, making sure they didn't kill each other, but otherwise I was focused on why Lucas was calling. "Is everything okay?"

  "Hey you," he replied, sounding relaxed. "Yes, totally fine. I just wanted to check in and let you know that your security team is doing exactly as instructed and guarding the place like we're holding the Hope Diamond here."

  I wrinkled my nose at the accusation in his voice. "Better safe than sorry, right?"

  He gave a sigh. "Hayden, you told me you were assigning a security guard. Not seven."

  "Eight.” I quickly moved on. "Look, I said I was assigning a security team. Or... that's what I meant. But better to be overprotected than under, right? No harm done?"

  He huffed, but I could tell he wasn't that mad. Over at my table the waitress had returned with our drinks and Chase was manhandling her again. Poor girl. I needed to leave her a hell of a tip when we left.

  "...haven't had anything suspicious happen here," Lucas was saying in my ear. "Chase is probably still trying to scrub that permanent marker off his face."

  I snorted a laugh because of course Zed had shown Lucas the picture he’d taken. "Yeah, I wish," I replied. "He's here being a slimy creeper."

  "Wait, what?" Lucas exclaimed. "Hayden—"

  A burst of movement caught my attention, and I missed whatever Lucas was saying. Zed had just grabbed Chase by the throat and thrown him to the ground, making several people scream in fright.

  "I've gotta go." I ended the call as Zed put the nose of his gun against Chase's forehead.

  As calm as possible, I strode over and planted my hands on my hips as I peered down at Zed and Chase.

  "Zed," I snapped, my voice like a whipcrack.

  He didn't look up at
me, but he also didn't pull the trigger. "This demented fuck just tried to drug your drink, boss." He bit the words off like they were dipped in poison, and my blood ran cold. "Check his hand."

  Giving Chase a cold glare, I put the ball of my shoe on his wrist and applied pressure until his fingers opened, revealing a roughly crushed pill in the middle of his palm.

  He didn't look like he felt even slightly guilty, just grinned up at me. "Can't blame a guy for trying," he said, seeming unconcerned by Zed's knee on his chest, hand around his throat, or gun to his head. "Little payback for that stunt at the café yesterday. Besides, you used to beg me for a little angel dust in your cocktail."

  Zed drew a deep breath, his grip tensing on the gun. He was a microsecond away from pulling that trigger.

  "Careful, Zayden," Chase taunted. "You wouldn't want to test my insurance policies, would you? There're so very many people that you both care about these days. So very many lives that could be ruined with the right series of events."

  My stomach knotted tight, and cold sweat ran down my spine. As badly as I wanted to crush Chase under my heel, he was still three steps ahead of me. He wouldn't be forever, though. I just had to be patient.

  "Zed," I barked again. "Put the gun away."

  Several of the Meow Lounge security guards were hovering on the fringes of our little scene but clearly reluctant to become involved. They knew damn well I could handle it without their intervention, and I appreciated the restraint.

  The same couldn't be said for my second. He didn't shoot Chase, but he did pistol whip him with the butt of his gun.

  "Let's go," I snapped to him, with my anger at his lack of self-control warring with my satisfaction at seeing Chase get smacked in the face.

  Zed grunted an angry sound and climbed to his feet as he put his gun away. Chase was out cold but wouldn't stay that way forever.

  "Please accept my apologies for the disruption," I told the closest security guard.

  He just nodded, clearly not knowing what the fuck to say back to that. Zed grabbed my hand and just barely restrained himself when he clearly wanted to drag me out of the club behind him. But I was no damsel in distress, and I sure as shit wasn't his arm candy.

  I paused near the bar to pull a wad of cash from my purse and hand it to the girl Chase had assaulted. She was trembling near one of the other waitresses, tears rolling down her cheeks, and just gaped at the money in confusion. No amount of money could erase an unwanted touch from your skin, but fuck, at least she could pay for some good counselling if that's what would help. Or she could blow it on shoes and handbags. Therapy came in all shapes and sizes.

  Zed and I didn't exchange another word as we headed outside, striding toward where we'd parked the Ferrari in a lot across the road. Before we reached the car, though, a solid weight slammed into Zed from behind, throwing him to the gravel and wrenching his hand out of mine.

  "Come on, De Rosa," Chase taunted, straddling Zed's waist and pounding a hard fist into the side of his head. "That all you've got? You can't kill me, but I didn't think you were that much of a little bitch." Smack, another hard hit to Zed's face as my second scrambled to get his guard up.

  "Seriously, Chase?" I snapped, bracing my heels on the gravel to hold my balance. "You're still relying on surprise to get your hits in? Pathetic."

  My insult was enough to get his attention, allowing Zed to buck up underneath him and shove him off. Chase, for all his stereotypical villain grandeur, had clearly let his fighting skills slip. Zed turned the tables in a flash, pounding the crap out of my unhinged ex with a violence that made my breath catch.

  I did nothing to get between them, just stood back and enjoyed the show for a minute as blood flew and clothing tore. Chase fought back as best he could, but Zed was lethal. He rained blows down on Chase's body, hitting him deliberately to make it hurt, and I took way too much pleasure out of the sound of Chase grunting in pain.

  A flash of metal caught my eye a split second before Chase slashed Zed's side, making him shout and roll out of reach in an instant.

  Fear trickled down my spine as Zed pressed his hand to his side and pulled it away coated in blood. He didn't look worried, only more determined, but I'd seen enough.

  "Stop this," I ordered, getting between them before they could reengage. "Zed, get in the fucking car."

  Chase, back on his feet as well, sneered in Zed's direction. "Better do what Darling says, De Rosa. That's a good dog."

  I whipped a small knife out of my chest strap and threw it with lightning speed. The short blade hit its intended target, sinking deep into Chase's shoulder and making him grimace.

  "Shut the fuck up, Chase," I snarled, then threw another warning glare at Zed. "Get in the damn car before I leave you here."

  Zed's expression was pure venom, but he reluctantly did as he was told. He slid into the driver's side, the stubborn fuck, and slammed the door shut as I swung back around to face my nemesis.

  "I may not be able to kill you yet," I told him with cold violence in my voice, stalking closer to where he swayed slightly on his feet. "But I have zero qualms about hurting you. Remember that senator's son you tortured for three days over my sixteenth birthday? The one your dad told you to use your imagination on?" I cocked my head to the side, waiting for him to find the memory in that fucked up brain of his.

  He gave a wicked smile. "How could I forget? Kid sobbed like a baby as we cut him up. It was a shame he died so quick."

  I gagged internally when he said we. But I'd helped, hadn't I? Back then, I'd thought Chase was my entire fucking world. No matter how much he hurt me, I still did everything he asked of me.

  Forcing aside the guilt, I gave Chase a cruel smile, the same sort of smile I'd seen his mother use a hundred times before I killed her. "What was his name again? Thomas something?"

  Chase inclined his head. "Thomas Sanderson III. Little turd. Father was so angry when he realized we'd accidentally killed him."

  I nodded. "That's right. Well. Remember how many creative ways you made him hurt?" I reached out and wrapped my hand around the hilt of my knife, which still protruded from his shoulder. "I promise you, Chasey-baby, I'll make that look like child's play if you push me." I wrenched my knife out, making sure to twist it brutally on the way.

  Chase barely even made a sound, just grinned at me like I'd offered him flowers.

  Unnerved, I decided not to push my luck any further and beat a quick retreat back to Zed's car. Zed said nothing as I slammed the door closed behind me. He just revved the engine and squealed out of the parking lot. We barely avoided flattening Chase's sorry, bleeding ass, too. More's the pity.

  22

  My bloody fingers shook so badly that I could barely work my phone as Zed sped through the streets of Shadow Grove, but I still managed to send the message I was trying to sort out.

  "Dare," Zed said after several minutes of silence.

  "Not yet," I bit back. I was still too firmly gripped by my fear and anxiety and the looming, suffocating presence of my worst nightmares.

  He puffed out a short sigh, his busted knuckles oozing as he gripped the steering wheel tighter. "Don't fucking shut me out," he growled, anger and frustration threaded through his voice. "We're in this together. Always have been, always will be."

  A bitter laugh escaped my lips. "Sure didn't feel like we were in it together when Chase punished me for kissing you by forcing a near-lethal dose of PCP down my throat. I was pretty fucking alone the nights he waited until I was terrified of my own breathing, then let his father and uncles use me for sport." Panic clawed at my throat, making it hard to breathe, and I desperately tried to take calming breaths. These confessions weren't news to Zed, though. He'd seen Chase's dirty little tapes showcasing all that and more. Those recordings exposed the worst of his abuse, which he always executed in one revolting room of horrors.

  Zed was about to pull over, I could sense it, so I gave him a hard glare with the last dregs of my strength. "Just fucking dr
ive, Zed," I snarled. "I'll be fine in a minute."

  He continued driving, but he was far from ready to let it go. Not this time.

  "You're so far from fine it's sickening," he spat, pressing his foot harder to the floor and making the scenery outside my window blur. Despite his tone, I knew it wasn't me he was disgusted with. It was himself for not knowing what was happening to me behind closed doors.

  That, of all things, helped me claw my way back out of the years’ old, stale fear. I took a couple more calming breaths, and then inch by inch, I forced my body to stop fucking shaking.

  Finally, I reached out and placed my hand over Zed's where it gripped the gear shift. "Just get us home," I whispered, all traces of my anger gone. "You need patching up."

  His hand twisted under mine, linking our fingers together. He shot me a quick, worried look, then jerked a nod. He didn't say anything more, but the way he raised my hand to his lips and kissed my bloody knuckles told me we weren't even close to done on this topic.

  The house was silent when we pulled back in. Cass was still gone and Lucas was at his mom's and somehow I was glad for the privacy. Zed and I... Fuck. We were a mess.

  "Go and wash up," I ordered him in a quiet voice as we walked through the foyer. "I'll get the medical kit."

  He nodded and silently headed up the stairs toward his bedroom, where he could clean up and get clean clothes.

  I made my way to the kitchen, pausing on a stool long enough to unbuckle my shoes and kick them away. Then off went my gun holster and knife sheaths. I didn't need to be armed inside Zed's home—our home—and if I did, there were more weapons hidden around the house than I could count.

  Inside the butler's pantry I pulled out the medium-sized first aid kit and snagged a bottle of whiskey from the bar. I got the feeling we'd need both.

  Upstairs, Zed had left his bedroom door ajar and the lights off. But the sound of the shower running and the light pouring from the en suite doorway pointed me in the right direction. Sucking up my shredded courage, I pushed open the bathroom door and plonked my supplies down on the marble vanity.