“Is everything okay with you?” I ask Cadence as Vi skips up the stairs. She’s going to research the best foundation for my ‘mocha-brown with a hint of red’ skin.
Since the boys are in the kitchen having their intense pow-wow, it’s just me and her.
“Marriage is a big deal, even for folks much older than you. And to deal with that and school and your mother passing away…”
Cadence’s lips start twitching and tears enter her eyes.
The moment I see her about to cry, I jolt out of my seat and cross the lavish room. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. I’m fine. Really. I am.”
I wrap my arms around her and give her a little squeeze. “It’s okay.”
“I know it is.” She lets out an embarrassed laugh. “I have no idea why I’m being like this.”
I give her shoulders a rub. “You’re carrying a lot.”
“Not as much as you.” She sniffs and looks up at me with the sweet, innocent gaze that brought Dutch Cross to his knees. “You lost your best friend and had to go undercover at Redwood, dealing with Harris and Hall and all that crap. That must suck.”
“Okay, so we’re both having a sucky time right now.”
She lets out a shaky laugh.
I notice that she’s calmer and ease away. “You good now?”
“I am.” She purses her lips, looking thoughtful. “These tears aren’t what you think. I’m not sad that mom died. I’m just nervous about whether or not someone killed her. If they did, if it was really Jarod Cross like they’re all thinking, what does that mean for Vi’s safety? If anything happens to my sister…”
“It won’t,” I say firmly.
She gives me a hopeful look.
“I might not know Dutch that well, but I know one thing. He loves you and he’ll protect you and your sister with everything he’s got.”
“I believe that.” A smile warbles on her pink lips. “Honestly, I don’t know how I would get through it without Dutch. He’s been so amazing to me. Sometimes, I wonder how anyone can be that focused on one person.”
“Dutch has tunnel vision,” I agree, thinking back to all I’ve observed of him. From his very first day back at Redwood, the guitarist was following Cadence around.
“I think Zane has tunnel vision too,” Cadence says, wiping her eyes and giving me a grin. “It’s just that he goes about it in a different way.”
And that’s my cue to change the subject.
“Why do you think we didn’t find any more evidence on The Grateful Project?”
Cadence pops an eyebrow as if she knows exactly what I’m doing.
I stoop down and lift some of the documents, shifting the tone of my voice. “Something doesn’t feel right.”
“Maybe the numbers you found on that old invoice was a coincidence?” Cadence stoops beside me and brushes her long brown hair over her shoulder.
I stick my tongue into my cheek. “Maybe.”
My phone rings.
It’s mom.
“How did the date go? Are you still with him?” Excitement rings in her voice and I hate that I’m going to have to crush so many of her dreams.
“No, mom.”
“Why didn’t you call me as soon as you were done?”
Zane and his brothers enter the living room. I can feel his gaze, this heavy, dark caress that glides down my body and makes me want to do all the things I shouldn’t.
It’s terrifying that he can make me feel that way when I’m on the phone with my mother.
“I was a little busy. I didn’t plan to have a date today, you know. There was a lot to catch up on.”
Zane is clearly studying me and listening to my conversation with mom as if he’s waiting for me to say something that will give away my true thoughts.
I keep my voice level and give him nothing.
“I’m busy right now. Can we do this later?”
“No.”
“Mom.”
“Now, Gracie.”
“Fine. I’ll talk to you at home.” I hang up and climb to my feet. “I should go.”
Zane lifts his head to look at me and I have to work to control my breathing.
“Thank you, guys.” I gesture to the boxes. “I’ll have to ask you to keep this here. I don’t think they’ll be safe anywhere else.”
“Of course,” Dutch says.
“I know this is where your agreement ends and mine starts.” I notice Zane frowning when I say that, but what does he expect? That The Kings will be at my beck and call just because he wants to screw me one more time to get it out of his system? I’m not a high school student. I’m an adult. I’m not that naive. “Is there anything you can give me on Jarod Cross? Any specific evidence?” I arch an eyebrow. “Murder, theft, drugs…”
Dutch flinches. “If you’re talking about suspicions, it’s yes to all the above. There’s nothing he hasn’t done.”
“I can’t convince my mom on theories.”
“You’ll have to try,” Dutch grunts.
I sigh heavily. They’re not making my job easy, but I remind myself that it wasn’t easy for them either.
“Okay.” I lift my phone. “I took pictures of all the evidence against Harris. You guys can keep the originals.”
Sol leans against the wall, watching me with this dark, twisted gaze. “What are you going to do with it?”
He’s smiling, but it’s not a very nice smile. His brown eyes gleam with a kind of maniacal viciousness.
I consider him for a long moment. Sol was the most insistent about attacking Hall, an observation I brushed off that night because he was—technically—bleeding and bruised from being attacked first.
But the way he’s gleefully watching me, waiting for me to destroy someone’s life, I get the feeling his sentiments about revenge against Hall weren’t a reaction to circumstances. They were an outlet for the rage already simmering under his veins.
“These bank statements aren’t the evidence I want, so it’ll have to be a bargaining chip.”
“You could just send Harris off the chess board now,” Finn points out. “It’s enough ammunition.”
“Harris is a pawn. I want the real culprits and he knows who they are.” I slip my phone into my pocket and nod. “Thank you, guys for your help. I’ll take it from here.”
Zane follows me to the door, frowning. Hard. “Harris is scrambling to cover his tracks. Desperate people are the most dangerous and unpredictable. You shouldn’t do anything alone. Tell me what your next move is before you make it.”
“I can handle myself.” I reach for the door.
He closes it tightly. “You can, but you don’t have to, tiger.” Zane steps in closer, towering over me. I sometimes forget how ridiculously tall he is. Even so, I’m not intimidated by him.
“This is my fight. My war. I already dragged you and your brothers in too deep. It’s not your responsibility to clean up my mess.”
“What if I want to?” he whispers.
My throat gets tight and I glance away. “And what if I don’t want you to? Which one of us will win?”
His fingers close around my chin and he turns my face so I’m looking at him. “That’s easy. Me.”
I frown.
He smirks at me, cocksure and arrogant. “I always get what I want, tiger.” His fingers cup the back of my neck and he pulls me in, his lips a breath away from my face. “You’re not going to be an exception.”
It’s disgusting how tightly my body clenches, in need of his touch.
I don’t want to be this way.
I don’t want to burn for him the way I do.
Whatever darkness is inside me gravitates to him.
Zane drops his hand without kissing me and I have to throw my hand against the wall to keep from grabbing him by the shirt. I don’t trust my own body to stay away from him. It’s like he’s taken control of my hands, my feet, my heart.
Lifting my gaze to his disturbingly blue eyes, as alluring as the monsters that sang sailors to their deaths, I realize that if I want to win any other fights in my life, I have to get him out of my system.
“One night,” I croak.
He looks down at me, understanding snapping through his face almost instantly. A cold sneer chases away the burning passion from only a second ago.
“Just one?”
I dip my chin slowly. “You can have me for one night, but after that, I never want to see you again.”
