by Tate James
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 whic
h 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.
10
When 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 strangl
ed 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?"
