Wicked as Lies

by Shayla Black

  As she cleaned up the kitchen, the football game played on. Her ex missed a touchdown and a muffed extra point. By the time she’d thrown her fourth load of laundry today into the washer and finished up the list of groceries she’d never gotten to shop for, the opposing team had kicked a field goal, too.

  So much for his interest in the Bengals and the Cardinals.

  Vaguely, she wondered what Zy was doing tonight. The better question was probably who, and it was none of her business. What they’d shared had been brief and fleeting—and mostly in her head.

  Except…that horrible afternoon in the conference room, he’d begged her not to sign that agreement. She’d heard it in his voice. Seen it in his eyes. He hadn’t wanted her to be off-limits. And she’d been so tempted to tear up that agreement because she’d been falling for him.

  But she’d had no choice. And ten minutes later, he’d called Madison so he could hook up with her, apparently not for the first time. That had hurt like hell.

  She either had the worst luck or the worst taste in men.

  How about both, honey?

  Finally, she took a shower and got into her own pajamas. After a few pages of a parenting book she’d been reading for the past few weeks, her eyes were heavy. Shoving the bookmark back onto the page, she opened her bedroom door to find Cash planted on the sofa again, downing a can of Red Bull.

  “What time does your team meet?” she asked as she checked the locks on the front and back door.

  “I’ve got another hour or two.” Cash stood and stretched as the game broke for halftime.

  “Make sure you wear your headphones.”

  “Yep. I won’t keep you or Hallie awake, babe. I’ll make sure to finish up my special ops missions and rescue everyone quietly.”

  It struck Tessa as hysterical that Cash played at the very things Zy actually did for a living.

  She gave her ex a smile she couldn’t muster much cheer for. “Great. The pump for your inflatable mattress is in the hall closet. Your sheets are in the dryer.”

  “Okay. Thanks for washing them. But you know, I’ve been thinking…”

  That never led to anything good.

  “What?” Tessa propped her hands on her hips and held in an exhausted sigh. She hadn’t slept much last night. Hallie had been fussy and Cash had looked on helplessly, saying he had to “work.”

  Zy would have taken Hallie onto his chest and put her to sleep.

  She had to stop thinking about him. He’d proven he wasn’t her knight in shining armor after all, and it was over.

  Cash sauntered closer, a sly smile on his face as he took her hand. “I’ve loved being here with you and Hallie, feeling like we’re a family.”

  She wanted to ask when he’d felt that way, because he hadn’t done much so far to behave like a father. Instead, she just smiled back. “I’m glad you feel that way. I need to be in the office early, so I need to sleep. Good night.”

  When she extracted her hand and turned away, Cash gripped her arm and whirled her around, pulling her flush against his body. “Not so fast, babe. I was about to say that it reminded me of all the reasons we were so good together before. God must have thought so, too, because he blessed us with a baby. I think we should, um”—he skated a hand down her back and cupped her ass—“pick up where we left off. I’ve missed you so fucking much, Tess.”

  It was all she could do not to stomp on his foot and cuss him out. She settled for shoving him away. “No, Cash. We agreed when you moved in that we were strictly co-parenting and there would be no sex.”

  “No, you said ‘to start.’ That was weeks ago. We’ve already proven that we’re in a good rhythm with the house and the baby and—”

  “You mean the rhythm where I do everything?”

  “I do stuff.”

  “Like what?”

  “I work.”

  “I do, too. Plus, I take care of all the grocery shopping, cooking, cleaning, laundry, dishes—”

  “Well, that’s all stuff women do.”

  Was he serious? “And what do you do besides make money?”

  “I’m a father and—” He shook his head. “We’re getting off track. I think I’d feel more involved and more like we were an actual family if we were…being intimate.”

  “So you’re telling me that if we were having sex, you would feel more responsible?”

  “Yeah. Totally, because it would feel more real. Don’t you remember how good everything was between us before?”

  What she remembered was feeling rushed and him not quite knowing where to find her clit. He’d been good at saying all the right things, of course. And she’d fallen for it—once. Now, she saw right through him.

  “You know what I think? Since you moved in here, you’ve barely left the house. How do I know you’re not just horny, and that I’ll do because I’m the nearest female?”

  He gaped as if he was shocked that she’d said something so terrible about him. “Babe, it’s nothing like that. I’ve been missing you for months.”

  “Are you going to try to tell me that you didn’t have sex with anyone else between January and now?”

  He stuttered and floundered, then finally pointed at her. “You going to try to tell me you didn’t want to? I saw your ‘bodyguard’ here, all shirtless and cozy, but I’ll make love to you so much better than he ever could.”

  It was official. She was going to punch him—right after she puked. “I told you, Zy didn’t touch me. And you’re not going to, either. Good night.”

  She turned and slammed the door between them, grateful it had a lock that Cash was both too stupid and too lazy to pick.

  Tessa had barely taken a step toward her waiting bed when she heard him hiss, “Bitch.”

  Then the squeak of the sofa told her he’d flopped down onto it, tuned into football again, and tuned out adulting. In that moment, she feared she’d made a horrible mistake.

  September 8

  * * *

  Tessa raced to the office fifteen minutes early, shoved her purse in its secure drawer, set her laptop on her desk, then she dashed down the hall to the conference room. All seven men looked up as she entered, eyes hollow with lack of sleep, five o’clock shadows all around, and the scent of testosterone thick in the air.

  “Anything new?”

  Just before quitting time the previous Friday, Hunter had received a call from his dad. Someone inside Emilo Montilla’s organization had firsthand knowledge of One-Mile’s location, almost three weeks after he’d been taken captive. It was sketchy…but it was something.

  “The inside source says Walker is still alive,” Hunter said. “No mention of his condition, though.”

  Still, alive was alive. They still had hope of recovering him. Hearing that, Tessa was happier than she had been in a month, especially after a tense weekend with Cash.

  “But it’s good news! Do you know where he’s being held yet? Do you have a plan?”

  “No. The informant has dripped information out as she’s able. We’re hoping to know more today.”

  “Anything I can do to help?”

  Logan shook his head. “We’re in a holding pattern. Stay near the phones, just in case. If we need help with arrangements, we’ll let you know.”

  “Of course. You guys look like you’ve had a long weekend. Do you want me to order in some breakfast?”

  Joaquin nodded, and Tessa was surprised when he actually spoke. “Probably a good idea. If the informant holds to pattern, we should hear more soon.”

  “I’m on it.” It was a small contribution, but one she could make. Still, Tessa hated that it wasn’t enough.

  When the news had come in that someone inside Montilla’s current compound wanted to talk and would start spilling details soon, she’d organized the bosses and the team, using their conference space as a war room for an all-hands-on-deck weekend. She’d ordered food and water in, then told them to call her if they needed anything else.

  But she hadn’t been able t
o stay. She couldn’t trust Cash alone with Hallie for more than ten minutes, much less a whole weekend. Besides, according to him, his “super important” game for work wrapping up was more critical than her job. Apparently, the fact a man’s life might be at stake was irrelevant. Or maybe he only felt that way because she was a female and wouldn’t be doing the actual rescuing.

  So she’d worried and paced her living room most of the weekend, calling in frequently to check on the crew. But she hadn’t been there, and it made her feel derelict in her duty.

  “I’ll get right on it.”

  “Thanks.” Hunter nodded absently before turning back to a satellite map on the big screen.

  Before she left the conference room, she caught sight of Zy staring at her—his gaze touching, lingering, burning. Tingles flared through her body, from her aching nipples to the needy tug between her legs.

  God, why did she still want this man so badly? Why couldn’t she get over him?

  They hadn’t spoken a single word, except those necessary to accomplish work, since that horrible afternoon Cash had blurted the fact he’d moved into her place. Tessa knew what Zy must be thinking. More than once she’d nearly divulged that she wasn’t sleeping with her ex. But she always stopped because it didn’t matter. He had probably found someone to rub bodies with—maybe Madison again—and who could blame him? Even without the clutter of others in their lives, he was contractually beyond her reach.

  “Earth to Garrett. What are you doing?” Hunter asked. “Bring it in. Next communication is incoming.”

  “Yeah,” he told the others as he sent her one last glance before he turned away.

  The bosses all directed their watchful stares on her. She could feel their warning. Don’t step over the line.

  Tessa sent them all a tight, professional smile before she bustled away to order a dozen egg, bacon, and potato burritos from the Mexican food place down the street everyone loved.

  The flurry of activity continued all morning, and a few hours later, she was awaiting a call about the delivery of the subs she’d ordered for lunch when her desk phone rang.

  “EM Security Management, this is Tessa. How may I direct your call?”

  “Tessa, this is your…stepmother, Kathleen.”

  She’d never heard the woman’s voice, but a glance at the display told her the woman was calling from her dad’s number.

  Something was wrong.

  “What’s happened?”

  “Your father had a heart attack this morning. About an hour ago. They’re stabilizing him now. He’d want you to know.”

  “How serious is it?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  Tessa wanted to ask a million questions at the same time she wanted to scream. If this woman hadn’t been trying to cut communication between her and her dad since they’d gotten married, she might have known from talking to him that his health had been in decline. He might even have told her he didn’t feel well, or she might have picked up on the signs. Something.

  But the blame game didn’t do either of them any good right now.

  “Which hospital?”

  “The one on the north side of Knoxville. I forget the name. I’m all turned upside down. He seemed all right yesterday…”

  Thankfully, Tessa knew the facility she meant. “I’m coming there.”

  “He may not be able to see anyone,” Kathleen warned.

  That might be true, but this woman wasn’t coming between them anymore. Besides, how awful would she feel if the worst happened to her father and she hadn’t even made the effort to see him? “And maybe he will. I’ll call this number back as soon as I make my arrangements.”

  “A-all right.”

  Tessa ended the call. She could tell from the reluctance in Kathleen’s voice that the woman needed a shoulder and an ear. Whatever her faults, she seemingly cared about Daddy. But if he survived this, there would be some changes.

  Right now, she had to tell the bosses she was leaving and hope they didn’t fire her. And it terrified her to leave Cash alone in her house for days; God knew what a mess he’d make of it. But all those worries were secondary. Dad came first.

  Quickly, she snatched up her purse and shut down her computer, then jogged down the hall, heart racing, worry burning her veins.

  When she appeared in the doorway, Logan looked up. “If the sandwiches have come, can you just bring them here? We need to break this info down and we don’t have a moment to spare.”

  Tessa closed her eyes. Of all the lousy timing…

  “She’s not here about sandwiches,” Zy cut in as she heard him coming toward her. “What’s wrong?”

  She opened her eyes. He knew. One look at her face, and he could tell something wasn’t right.

  “I-it’s my dad. He’s had a heart attack.”

  “In Tennessee?” Zy prompted. “What do you know so far?”

  “Nothing.” And it was killing her.

  He took her hand. “Is there even a hospital in Rocky Top?”

  She shook her head. “But it’s not too far.” She looked around him at Hunter, Logan, and Joaquin at the front of the conference room. “I need to go.”

  Hunter nodded. “Family first. Let us know how y’all are doing.”

  “I will. I feel so terrible for bailing—”

  “Don’t. Take care of your dad.”

  Her eyes prickled with tears. “I will. I hope you’re able to get One-Mile out alive.”

  Then she turned away to pick up Hallie, head home, find a flight, pack a bag… She had a million things to do.

  “Hey,” Zy called after her. “I’ll give you a ride to the airport.”

  It was so tempting to say yes. To have his steadying presence by her side until she boarded the plane to take her to the uncertainty that awaited her in Tennessee. But Zy would have to come to the house. Cash would see him. And it would get ugly.

  “Thanks, but…I’m sure Cash will take me.”

  He turned to stone as if her words assaulted him. “Of course. Hope your dad is all right. Let us know if you need anything.”

  She nodded. “For what it’s worth, thank you for offering.”

  “Sure. Bye.”

  “Bye.” Her whisper sounded about ten seconds long. She was desperate to make her moments with Zy last because she felt so safe with him. Because when she was with him, she somehow believed her world would be okay. Because she never worried he wasn’t strong enough to share her problems.

  Because deep down she knew Cash could never be that man.

  That thought haunted her as she and Hallie climbed onto an airplane a few hours later, jetting to uncertainty and potential heartbreak.

  Thursday, September 11

  Guerrero, Mexico

  * * *

  Zy sat in the back of the run-down white catering van, emblazoned on both sides with a sombrero-wearing chihuahua, dancing next to a blue margarita. If the food was as shitty as their art—and their shock absorbers—he was glad he’d eaten elsewhere. But Joaquin had arrived in Mexico the day before the rest of the EM team to make arrangements. And he had to give the quietest of his bosses credit. No one looking at this vehicle bouncing down the uneven road would think five armed-to-the-teeth operatives sat in back. They’d just see what seemed like a silver-haired man driving with the sunset in his rearview mirror, going who knew where.

  “We should be there in about ten,” Hunter said, leaning against the back doors. “I need to be honest. The information we have is both secondhand and through a translator.”

  That didn’t fill Zy with confidence. But nothing about this mission did. Whenever they came to Mexico, everything turned to shit. This time, the crap had started before they’d even left the States. Tessa had been gone for three days without a word. Countless times, he’d reached for his phone to call, text…something. But she had Cash, and he’d just be in the way.

  A few hours after she flew out, the bosses had told them all to go home, get a full night’s sleep,
and be prepared to bug out in the next few days. Since no one had left the office all weekend, and they’d been existing on takeout and catnaps, they’d all been ready for a shower and a horizontal eight. Trees, being Trees, had stopped for gas at a fucking truck stop…and somehow been tempted by their sushi. The following morning, he’d called Zy from the hospital—shocker—where he’d spent all of Tuesday and most of Wednesday, only being discharged a few hours before their departure.

  Leave it to his buddy to fully live by the motto what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Problem was, Trees tested that a lot.

  Thanks to his adventures in cuisine, Trees had been too disconnected from the plan to help out and way too weak to join in, so they’d left him behind.

  As far as Zy could tell, the team wasn’t off to a good start. So Hunter admitting the information was sketchier than he’d led them to believe was just another problem they didn’t need.

  From the front seat, the colonel glanced over his shoulder, keeping one eye on the empty road. “A few days ago, I got a call from Emilo’s estranged wife, Valeria. We rescued her from her husband a little over eighteen months ago, but she had to leave behind her mother and her sister. Her mother had been sick. Unfortunately, she didn’t make it. But her sister, Laila, somehow got her hands on a phone and started sending encoded messages through a game app to Valeria that included their location and the fact Emilo has One-Mile, who, as of this morning, was still alive. I was expecting more communication this afternoon so we could finish working out the details, but Valeria didn’t hear from her sister.”

  “So you’re saying there’s a higher-than-normal chance this goes to shit?” Josiah piped up, dressed like the rest of them in head-to-toe desert camo, weapons, and bad attitude.

  “Yep.” Logan never pulled his punches.

  Son of a bitch.

  “So what do we know?” Zy asked.

  “The location of the compound and the positioning of the guards. If everything goes to plan, Laila should be with One-Mile now, trying to figure out a distraction. Apparently, Montilla has been keeping him underground, so he and Laila will have to invent some excuse to get the guards to bring him up top.”