Bullet Series Box Set Books 1-8

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Bullet Series Box Set Books 1-8 Page 167

by Jade C. Jamison


  His voice was sleepy sounding. “What? You mean…getting along?”

  She smiled. “Yeah. Why can’t we always do that?”

  “Hell, honey, I don’t know. That’s like asking me why the sun comes up every morning.”

  “I can give you the reason for that.”

  Zane chuckled. “So you’re telling me that we’re the unsolved mystery of the universe?”

  She couldn’t help the giggle. “Pretty much.” She fell quiet again. If she couldn’t explain it, couldn’t figure out how to make it continue happening, she could at least enjoy it while they had it. Maybe overanalyzing it was part of the problem. Maybe they had matured enough now that they could get along from now on.

  She could hope. There was that other reason too, but she couldn’t go there.

  “Hey, Zane.”

  “Yeah, babe?” His hand was slowing in its motions, so she knew he was getting sleepier. Before he drifted off, though, she was going to have to leave. She had their baby to care for. She had but one thing to do—she had to decide if she was going to tell him or hang onto the secret for longer.

  Oh, she was so close…

  But no. She couldn’t—shouldn’t—tell him.

  “What is it, Jen?” She felt him stir a little, maybe considering sitting up to look at her.

  She sucked in a deep breath. “Um…what if—” Jennifer stopped talking when she heard a noise outside Zane’s room. The door was open, but she couldn’t imagine what she’d heard was outside. Still, it could have been a noise his house made regularly that she wasn’t used to—maybe the AC or…something. But it gave her the chills just the same. “Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what?”

  Jennifer focused her attention on where she’d heard the noise. Somewhere in the hallway, she thought. She didn’t sit up but she turned her head back a little, straining. “That. It sounds almost like scratching.”

  Zane sat up a little. “Shit. Like a mouse or something?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “Goddammit. I just had the pest control guy here last month.” He sat up and Jennifer had no choice but to sit up with him. She smiled, taking him in. Yes, he looked a little tired, but he was still her guy. This was the man she’d fallen in love with all those years ago when she was, for all intents and purposes, still a child. She would accept him, good or bad, tired or lively. He grinned at her. “Can’t get good help these days.” He got out of bed and started walking toward the doorway.

  “Don’t you want to put some clothes on, Zane?”

  “What? Think a mouse’ll bite my junk off?”

  She giggled again but then got serious. “No, but—but what if…what if it’s not a mouse?”

  “What else would it be?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “It’s fine, Jen.” He started walking again.

  “Want me to come with you?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t care.”

  She wanted to make sure he was okay, even though her worries were unfounded and silly. It would give her a chance to check out his always-cute ass, though. She saw his t-shirt hanging off the edge of the bed and grabbed it, pulling it over her head. He might not care if a mouse saw his junk, but Jennifer didn’t feel comfortable walking around his house nude.

  She didn’t even do that at home.

  Zane was already in the hallway by the time Jennifer had her private parts covered with his shirt, but she sprinted on tiptoe to catch up.

  He’d paused a few feet away from the bedroom door. They’d left the hallway light on earlier, so she could see the entire length. Nothing looked suspicious. His head was tilted and he was listening. Jennifer touched his arm and he turned to face her, putting his finger to his lips. As he stood in place, though, she saw his brows furrow. Finally, he looked at her and whispered. “I don’t hear it anymore. Do you?”

  Jennifer leaned her neck forward and tilted her ear. But she couldn’t hear a thing. “No.”

  His face broke into a grin and he picked her up, wrapping her legs around his waist. “Then fuck it.” He kissed her and marched back to his room, dropping her on the bed, causing her to explode in a spasm of giggles until he leaned over her and touched her forehead with his. Then his expression was serious…and amorous.

  Could she go again? Yes, more than likely…especially with Zane.

  His kiss that time was slow, luxurious, and it made her wet in seconds.

  And then she heard the scratching noise again.

  She raised her eyebrows and wasn’t able to respond to the kiss anymore. Zane heard it too and paused, opening his eyes to look at her. He nodded, letting her know he too heard it, and he moved off her, sitting and then standing, looking around some but listening with effort.

  If she hadn’t been growing nervous, Jennifer might have found Zane’s gun half-cocked a bit amusing. As it was, she grinned…but she figured her inappropriate and stupid humor was being fueled by her anxiety.

  Zane’s eyes zipped toward the wall opposite the bed toward a doorway—there were two doors in the room other than the one exiting into the hallway, but in her desire, Jennifer hadn’t thought much about it. Now, she wondered what they were. Zane looked at her and pointed, then began walking slowly toward the door that was open. Jennifer wished he’d covered himself up but again knew it was silly to worry…probably because now she was thinking maybe he had a stalker. He was famous, after all, and he wouldn’t be the first celebrity to have a batshit crazy person break into his house.

  But she kept her mouth shut and walked behind him toward the mysterious door. When Zane got there, he reached his hand inside and flipped a switch. Seconds later, he was yelling. “You! What the hell are you doing here?”

  Jennifer heard a squeaky, tiny human voice. “Filing my nails.”

  “I can see that. But why are you doing it here?”

  “Because.”

  Zane walked inside and Jennifer crept a little closer, and then she could see that the room was a master bathroom. She saw a blonde woman huddled on the toilet seat and she was, in fact, filing her fingernails. That was when Zane stepped inside and grabbed a large black towel off the rack and wrapped it around his waist. “You need to get the fuck out of here before I call the cops.”

  The blonde lifted her chin so she could see Zane’s eyes, and the look on her face was pathetic—imploring with no sense of dignity. “But…I heard you guys having fun. I could help out if you’d let me.”

  Jennifer didn’t say a word but furrowed her brow. This poor woman was obviously mentally disturbed. She wondered if she should be afraid of her, but she looked sad and rather harmless, the way she was kind of tucked into herself. The pathetic thing didn’t even seem to realize she should have been defending herself. “I told you earlier you needed to leave.”

  A ringing started in Jennifer’s ears and she felt the breath escape her body, all while her brain fought. Did Zane just say what she thought he’d said? Something impossible?

  “I don’t have anywhere to go.”

  Jennifer needed to sit down…but, first, she needed some answers. She found her voice and, even though it was scratchy, it worked. “Zane, do you know this woman?”

  He wrinkled his forehead and pulled his attention away from the tiny tragic blob huddled on his toilet. “What?”

  “I asked if you know her.”

  He shrugged. “Not really.”

  Jennifer could feel that age-old anger building up in her chest cavity. Maybe she needed to rephrase. “Okay. But was she here earlier when you left for our date?”

  Zane started to respond and then stopped himself. And then he didn’t need to answer, because she could see it all over his face. It didn’t matter why she was there now.

  No, it did. Jennifer couldn’t just explode emotionally like she always had in the past, and she shouldn’t assume anything. She’d promised herself that this time she would try. She wouldn’t just lose her cool. So she drew a deep breath in through her
nose. “What’s she doing here, Zane? Who is she?”

  Yeah…more confirmation, thanks to the look on his face. His expression was a touch of exasperation mixed with the horror of getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Only this gal was a bit more than a cookie. She was an entire bag of sugar.

  Zane swallowed, his attention now pulled from the woman huddled on his toilet seat. “Uh…she’s…uh…”

  Jennifer felt her blood begin to boil in her veins. Oh, shit. It didn’t matter how much she loved Zane; if he was still up to his usual ways, that was it. They were done before they had even started over. Jennifer looked over to the woman. “Who are you?”

  “My name is Callie.” As if that explained it all.

  Jennifer raised her eyebrows. Well, to be fair, the woman had answered the question she’d asked. Time to probe further since Zane wasn’t saying shit. Jennifer wasn’t even going to look at him now. As it was, out of the corner of her eye, she could see him practically pleading with the woman to stop asking questions. “And what are you doing here?”

  The girl got a snotty look on her face at that point. “I was invited here. What are you doing here?”

  That was when Zane interjected. “You were uninvited hours ago. What the fuck are you still doing here?”

  Jennifer blinked and started backing up, waving her hands, signaling that she was officially giving up. She didn’t need to hear anymore. The blonde—Callie—was whining, but Jennifer couldn’t even register what she was saying.

  “Wait, Jen. Don’t leave. Let me explain.”

  She shook her head and turned, determined to find her pants so she could get the hell out of there. Her shirt, bra, panties? They could all stay. She didn’t give a shit. She needed to bail now before she exploded. “No explanation necessary.”

  “Yeah, there is.” Probably the same bullshit she’d heard in the past—time and time again. Or a lie, and she really wasn’t in the mood for that bullshit either. Bad enough to know that Zane was up to his old tricks and really didn’t care enough about her to even try.

  “No, there’s not. I’m leaving now.” She was sliding her pants up to her waist and, once they were on, she picked her shoes up off the floor and walked out the bedroom door.

  “Jen!”

  As she stormed down the hall, she heard the blonde girl pleading with Zane, and he was yelling at her by then. Jen marched, determined to walk out with her dignity intact, her temper under wraps, and the tears pushed even deeper down. Nothing—nothing—was going to explode before she was on the road. Absolutely nothing.

  Chapter Fourteen

  GODDAMMIT. ZANE HAD known better. How the fuck he’d always managed to choose the skankiest hos, he’d never know.

  And those skanky hos…man, did they know how to cause drama. Every single damn time.

  He finally figured out how to get rid of this particular one, since she didn’t call the cab earlier like he’d told her to. After Jennifer stormed off, he offered to buy the girl some pie and coffee at Village Inn. As soon as he had her seated, he paid the bill plus a handsome tip—that he gave directly to the waiter and asked the guy to keep her swimming in coffee for as long as she wanted, and then Zane gave her a fifty…for a cab or whatever.

  That was a risky move, because he didn’t want her to think he was implying that she was actually a whore…and he wasn’t suggesting that at all. He just wanted her the fuck out of his life, by whatever means necessary.

  That mission accomplished, he then set off like a bat out of hell toward Jen’s old apartment. God, he hoped she still lived where she used to. Otherwise…

  No. He wasn’t gonna think that way. There was always the connection through Val if need be. He just hoped to avoid it.

  Jen had been pretty cagey since they’d reconnected. No, not exactly cagey—guarded would be a better word…and, in all fairness, she had every right to be. Hell, it hadn’t taken Zane even a week this time to piss her off and send her packing.

  As he continued to speed down the interstate, driving far faster than he should have, he thought to himself that she should have expected it. She should accept it even. It was in his nature, and it seemed impossible to change.

  He was at war with himself. As soon as that thought drifted through his head, he wanted to take it back. No, Jen should not be expected to honor his wandering ways. In fact, when they’d been fresh-faced college students, she’d said that was the one and probably only thing she couldn’t tolerate. She could handle the partying, the drug use, the littering of profanity, and bordering on violent behavior. She’d said as much.

  Infidelity, though, was inexcusable.

  But how could he be unfaithful when they weren’t married, weren’t even engaged?

  And how could they be engaged or married when he didn’t give her the confidence and faith in him to believe he could or would stay faithful?

  She wouldn’t.

  It had been a fight with himself, a constant battle. Sometimes, he just felt as though both he and everyone who knew and loved him needed to accept him as he was. It was impossible for a leopard to lose its spots, right? The rest of the time, though, he was immersed deep in self-loathing and despised himself for not being able to stop—and for not stopping.

  What the fuck was wrong with him?

  He didn’t know…but he was certain of one thing. Just the past few hours had convinced him that Jennifer Manders made his life worth living, made him feel whole and loved and real…and worth something.

  As he took the off ramp to head toward her old neighborhood, he gripped the steering wheel, praying she was still in the same old place. Otherwise, he was fucked.

  * * *

  “She just won’t go to sleep, Mrs. M,” Kara said, a frazzled look on her face.

  Jen picked Zoe up off the floor where the child sat, surrounded by toys spread out on a blanket. “What’s gotten into you, sweetie pie?”

  Kara swallowed. “Um…I might have an idea.”

  Jen bounced Zoe on her hip, the child grinning from ear to ear, most definitely bright-eyed and bushy-tailed—far too peppy for this late in the evening. She was almost afraid to ask. “What?”

  “Well, um…I had my Dr. Pepper over here on the coffee table, right? And the cable remote wasn’t working. So I got up and was changing channels over at the TV. When I finally found what I wanted to watch and turned around to sit back on the couch, Zoe was over here, drinking my pop.” Jennifer let the air out of her lungs, willing herself to not get angry or upset. “I don’t know how much she drank, Mrs. M. I’m sorry.”

  Kara wasn’t around the child enough to know she was fast…and it wasn’t like it was lighter fluid or bleach or something. She couldn’t be angry with Kara—but it looked like she was going to have a late night. Jennifer didn’t let Zoe drink anything with caffeine, so she had no idea how long she was going to be wired—but she most definitely was at the moment. The toddler’s eyes were twinkling and she was babbling away.

  She was wiggling enough that Jennifer knew she wanted down. So she leaned over and set her daughter back on the carpet, making sure she was steady on her feet before letting go. “No idea how much?”

  Kara shrugged. “I’d just opened the can a few minutes before, and I don’t remember how much I had first. She couldn’t have had a bunch, could she?”

  “I don’t know, Kara. I wasn’t here.”

  “Yeah.” The girl shook her head. “I need to go clean up the mess in the kitchen before I go.”

  Oh, no. Jennifer didn’t even want to see that. One thing she’d say about Kara, though—the girl was good about cleaning up whatever needed it before she left. “Okay,” she said, and Kara walked into the other room while Jennifer sat on the couch, watching her child play. Yeah, Zoe was most certainly energetic. It was just as well. Jennifer didn’t know that she’d be able to sleep for quite a while. She looked up at the TV from Zoe. Kara had been watching some dumb reality show…and Jennifer was in no mood for stupidity. She grabbed t
he remote off the end table and pointed it toward the television. When it didn’t respond, she remembered that Kara had said as much—which was how Zoe had gotten into the caffeinated soda in the first place. Jennifer got up off the couch and switched the TV off. Then she opened up her purse, fetching out enough bills to pay Kara. She’d replace the batteries in the remote tomorrow.

  A good fifteen minutes later, the teenager came in the living room, rubbing her hands on the thighs of her jeans. “Good as new,” she said. Jennifer wondered what the hell the girl had done to merit that much cleaning…but she didn’t want to know.

  “Great.” Jennifer stood, realizing she had been growing sleepy in spite of watching her child’s enthusiastic play. Zane had already left her mind, although he was back in there now that she’d given it conscious thought. She wasn’t going to dwell on his memory, though. She’d give the entire situation a lot more thought in the morning when her head was clearer, her heart better able to grapple with the emotional trauma.

  She handed the money to Kara. “You don’t have to give me this much, Mrs. M. You were back earlier than you thought.”

  Jennifer smiled. “You were here for me, willing and able to put in the time I needed. Just because I didn’t use it doesn’t mean you weren’t worth it.” Just then, the doorbell rang, causing Jennifer’s brow to wrinkle and suspicions to dart through her mind. “You expecting someone?”

  “Oh, heck, no, Mrs. M. I don’t have people over when I’m babysitting.”

  Hearing her say those words made her feel lots better—but it made her wonder who the hell was ringing her bell this close to midnight. That couldn’t be good. It was never good when someone came by that late at night.

  Jennifer had to lock the door behind Kara anyway, so she walked the few feet to the door, peeking in through the peephole.

  She didn’t see anyone at first, could only see the door across the hall. But then he came into view, a guy who was pacing back and forth.

  Yeah…not any guy.

  Zane.

  She didn’t believe he had the audacity to show up at her door after what had just happened. That was ballsy as hell.

 

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