by Tate James
"Darling," he purred, approaching me without a hint of hesitation. "You look..." His gaze raked down my body, then returned to my face with a small frown. "Well. I might have liked to see you in a dress, but I suppose this will do."
Another man stepped into view, his expression blank. Pure business.
Rolling my eyes, I slipped my jacket off and extended my arms to the sides to allow him to pat me down for weapons.
"You scared, Chasey?" I mocked as his man patted me down a bit firmer than really necessary. "You think I’d need weapons to kill you if that's what I wanted to do?"
Chase didn't bite at my mockery, just waited for his guy to give the signal that I wasn't armed before offering me the black rose in his hand. "For you, my goddess of death."
Unamused by his theatrics, I brushed past him and made my way over to the table set for our date. A quick glance didn't reveal any traps or manacles or torture instruments laid out. Did he simply plan on drugging my food? Seemed like his style. I sat down carefully, laying my keys and phone on the table beside my cutlery.
Chase was unperturbed by my rudeness, just cleared his throat and sat opposite me at the table, smiling like we were celebrating our anniversary or some shit.
"There's no need for such hostility, Darling," he purred, totally at ease in his seat. Totally in control of the situation. Bastard.
His man, who'd patted me down, seemed to be the only other person in the room, and there was an edge of familiarity about him. The lighting was so low that very little was visible beyond the sphere of candlelight on our table, so I filed that away in my brain for later.
Chase reached for the champagne, poured a glass for each of us, then indicated I take mine.
"You must think I'm an idiot," I murmured, shaking my head as I sat back in my chair. "I'm not risking being drugged tonight, thank you. I agreed to come to dinner; I never agreed to eat or drink."
Chase's single eye narrowed in annoyance, and he snapped his fingers impatiently. His guard silently approached the table and picked up my champagne flute. Watching me from under low lids, the man raised my glass to his lips and took a noticeable sip before placing the glass back down.
As he swallowed and licked his lips, recognition sparked. He was the same guard who'd been outside the Locked Heart offices the night I'd first confronted Chase. He'd seemed familiar then and even more so now. How strange.
"You see?" Chase snapped. "Perfectly fine. No drugs."
The silent guard arched a brow as if confirming that he was, indeed, not drugged. But shit, call me paranoid, I still didn't trust my certifiably crazy ex.
To avoid things turning nasty so soon, though, I gave a tight smile and raised the glass to my own lips. Chase held my gaze as I took a sip, seeming satisfied, and didn't seem to notice when I simply spat the champagne back into the glass again before lowering it.
Such a douche, he let his own arrogance and ego blind him to simple deceptions. No doubt that'd work in my favor at some stage.
"What am I doing here, Chase?" I asked when he just sat there looking at me for an uncomfortably long time. To be fair, the total lack of ambush or assault had thrown me for a loop, and I was way off balance.
He tilted his head to the side. "Enjoying a nice dinner date with your fiancé, Darling. What else?" He gave a sick, evil laugh. "Can't a man just want to spend quality time with his future wife?"
My stomach churned. "You're deluded," I muttered.
"Or determined," he shot back. "I hope you're hungry; the chef has cooked quite the masterpiece for us tonight."
That poor chef had probably done it all with a gun to his head.
Restraining the urge to fidget, I carefully avoided looking at my phone. But I'd placed it there on the table deliberately so I'd see if anyone called with an update on Seph. Not that they'd had any luck as of the last time we’d spoken to Demi, but a girl could hope.
"I see polite conversation is asking too much this evening." Chase sighed when I didn't respond to his comment about dinner. "Would you feel more comfortable if we spoke about our shared interests?"
"Oh, we have those?" I replied, sarcastic as hell.
Chase gave a soft laugh. "Darling girl, we're so much more alike than you care to admit. We always have been, remember? You used to call me the other half of your fucked up soul. We were made for each other, something you proved when you so ruthlessly shot your Reaper lover without hesitation."
His eye sparked with excitement as he said that like he was remembering the moment and slightly getting off on it. Sick fuck.
"We're nothing alike, Chase," I lied.
He just sneered. "Speaking of your dead lover... he was awfully fascinated with the Lockhart legacy, wasn't he?"
Confusion rippled through me, but I didn't let it show. "Were you always this self-important? Or is this something you've picked up since suffering a bullet to the head?" I tipped my head to the side, my fingers toying with the stem of my champagne flute. "No one gives two shits about the Lockharts anymore because they're all dead."
Chase gave a shrug. "If that were true, I wouldn't have found an entire hard drive of research in the Reaper's apartment. Digital stamps don't lie, Darling; he's put a number of years into his investigation of my father. But I can't quite put my finger on why. Can you shed some light?"
What the fuck was he talking about? Cass had been investigating Chase's father? Why?
"I'd offer to ask him for you," I replied in a cool voice, "but I don't think fate would save two bastards from my bullets. Some secrets really do go to the grave."
Chase's lips thinned like he wanted to accuse me of lying. Like he suspected I knew exactly why Cass was researching Channing Lockhart and just wasn't letting on. Unfortunately for him, and me, I really had no clue.
"Fine," he hissed eventually. He waved his hand in the air, and a moment later a very stressed-looking waiter came hurrying out of the kitchen with two steaming bowls of soup. His hands shook as he set them down in front of us, then he all but ran back to the kitchen, where he must have been hiding.
"Eat your fucking food, Darling," Chase snapped, picking up his spoon. "You're too skinny."
When I made no move to even touch my soup spoon, his temper snapped and he slammed his fist down on the table. Soup sloshed, and my champagne fell over, spilling wine all over the tablecloth and onto the floor.
"I said eat," he snarled. "Or pretty little Stephanie loses a finger."
I stiffened, my heartbeat thrashing in my ears as panic flooded my system. Chase didn't have his phone in sight, but I didn't doubt he could make that call in a snap.
Swallowing hard, I picked up my spoon and dipped it into the creamy green soup. Even if it was spiked... I'd survive. I always did.
The soup tasted like ash on my tongue, but Chase didn't let up with the murderous glare until I'd swallowed that first mouthful. Then his whole demeanor shifted like he'd unzipped a skinsuit, and suddenly we were back to charming dinner-date Chase.
"I'm so sorry about what happened to your apartment building," he commented as casually as if we were discussing the weather. "That must have been such a blow, losing all your pretty cars like that."
I resisted the urge to gag as I took another tiny spoonful of soup. "The loss of innocent lives somewhat eclipsed my love for those cars, Chase. I understand that you severely lack in empathy and basic human emotions, but you're not stupid. Stop acting like you are."
His eye narrowed at me, flashing with anger. Then he tossed his head back in laughter—full-belly laughter like I'd just told him the funniest joke on earth.
"I missed that smart mouth of yours," he commented when his laughter died down, then his expression quickly shifted to something darker, more dangerous. "I can think of so many things I'd like to do to that mouth. Five years has given me so very much time to think about our reunion."
Bile curdled in my stomach. "No, thank you. Zed's been more than keeping my mouth busy at home." I knew better than to provoke
Chase, but I couldn't fucking help myself.
Chase stood up abruptly, knocking his chair over in the process, and stepped around the table to snatch a brutal handful of my hair. Enraged, he hauled me out of my seat with my scalp screaming and slammed his mouth into mine so hard it made my mouth fill with the sharp tang of blood.
Horrified and repulsed, I clamped my teeth together hard, not giving an inch as he mauled my face. When I remained stiff as a board, he shoved me back with aggression and frustration, making me stumble.
"I seriously suggest you defrost, my sweetness," Chase snarled at me, a streak of my blood marring his lips, "and defrost fast. Or Stephanie will pay the price for your noncompliance."
And there it was, the whole point of the ridiculous dinner date façade. Chase wanted to fuck me, but he wanted to break me by making me a willing participant.
The screen of my phone lit up on the table, and I glanced down to read the message I'd been waiting on all goddamn day, a message that sent a wave of relief so intense I almost collapsed.
GC: Package secure.
Letting a small smile play across my lips, I picked up my phone and slid it into the back pocket of my pants. Then I tucked my Ducati key into my palm, curling my fingers around it as I straightened up.
"Now that I think about it, Chase, I'm not in the mood for dinner after all." I started to brush past him to leave, but his hand snapped out and grabbed me by the hair again, dragging me back to him.
"Where the fuck—"
His inane question never got finished as I lashed out with my fist, slamming my knuckles right into his mouth. The key gripped in my hand only strengthened my punch, too, and he staggered backward into the table.
Movement in the shadows made me glance up, but Chase's guard seemed to have no inclination to intervene. Instead, he just watched as I leaned over and slammed my fist into Chase's temple, knocking him out cold with his cheek in a bowl of soup.
Clearing my throat, I wiped my knuckles off on a napkin, then left the restaurant with my head held high.
Seph was safe.
29
Adrenaline coursed through my veins the whole way home, doubled by the reckless way I drove my Ducati, and when I pulled into Zed's driveway, my heart was pounding hard.
Zed was pacing a line across the garage floor and barely even waited for my engine to shut off before he hauled me off the bike. He yanked my helmet off, then took a sharp breath when he saw my bloody lip.
"I'll fucking kill him," he growled, his whole expression pure venom as his thumb touched my puffy split lower lip.
I gave him a grim smile back. "No, I will. Eventually." Peeling myself out of his strong grip, I headed inside the house. I needed to take my clothes off and burn them, then gargle some hand sanitizer to get the taste of Chase out of my mouth.
Zed followed tight on my heels as I made my way up the stairs, and Lucas popped out of his bedroom as we got to the top.
"Hayden, thank fuck!" he exclaimed, rushing to sweep me up in a tight hug. "He hurt you." It was an accusation mixed with resignation. He'd known I wouldn't walk away totally unscathed, but I for one was calling this a win. A split lip was fucking nothing.
"I need to shower," I told him with a soft smile, shifting out of his grip. "Then we can debrief."
Lucas didn't need any further explanations, stepping out of my way so I could get to the bathroom down the hall. I left the door open as I stripped out of my clothes and kicked them into a ball under the vanity. Then I cranked the shower to scalding and stepped in with a long sigh.
"Cass wants to know what his orders are," Zed announced as I let the scorching water sluice over my skin. Cracking my eyes open, I found him perched with his ass on the side of the vanity, his eyes locked on me through the glass shower screen like he thought I might magically disappear if he looked away.
Lucas leaned his shoulder against the doorframe, his arms folded and his brow set with a faint line of concern.
"Tell him to come home," I replied to Zed, leaning back under the water to wet my hair. "Bring Seph with him. I need her here for a bit, and there's no one else I trust to keep her safe outside of Shadow Grove. Not anymore."
I was severely disappointed in not just Archer, Kody, and Steele, but also in Demi. She knew what Seph was like. She should have been watching her more carefully.
Scrubbing my hands over my face, I muttered some quiet curses because, as angry as I was, I also knew it wasn't actually any of their faults. It was Seph's for being a stupid fucking self-involved bitch. It was mine for sheltering her so damn hard that she had no freaking clue how much danger she was really in.
Zed had looked away as he’d conveyed my orders to Cass on his phone, but he soon looked back up. His gaze almost seemed to burn through my skin as I used body wash and a loofah to scrub the poisonous taint of Chase Lockhart off my body.
Lucas's gaze was equally heavy, and only the steam and condensation clouding the shower screen prevented both of them from getting an eyeful of my naked body. Not that they hadn't seen all of me before... but I'd never been naked in front of both of them at the same time. It had me remembering various things I'd seen at Meow Lounge the other night.
Crap. That thought had my nipples turning to diamonds, despite the burning-hot water I was showering under. I needed to get the hell out and put some clothes on before I turned into a full-blown succubus. As it was, my pussy had barely recovered from my Zed fuck-fest; I needed a bit more down time.
I hurried through the shampoo and conditioner process, feeling the sting in my scalp where Chase had ripped some strands out, while Zed and Lucas just lurked there in the bathroom, making me more and more conscious of my nudity with every passing second.
I turned the water down to ice cold to rinse out my conditioner, and by the time I turned the taps off and squeezed out my hair, I was shivering lightly.
"Pass me that towel," I said to Zed, nodding to the one hanging over the rail right by where he sat.
He picked it up, then held it out directly in front of him and out of my reach. Funny bastard. He really thought I wouldn't call his bluff?
With a shrug, I pushed the shower door open and took the two steps it required to reach Zed and the towel he held. He grabbed onto me as I snatched the towel, though, cupping the back of my neck tenderly as he leaned in to kiss my aching lips. It hurt, but goddamn, I needed it.
I didn't fight him, sighing into his kiss and letting him shift a small measure of tension off my mind with each stroke of his tongue. I stubbornly ignored the sting from my cut and the taste of copper on his kiss. Then, as I pulled away to wrap my towel around my body, I caught Lucas's eyes in the mirror.
"Gumdrop," Zed growled, "fuck off for a minute, would you? Or an hour. Or more." There was no mistaking his intentions as his hands caressed my body through the towel, but I shook my head at Lucas in the mirror.
"Not how it works, Zed," I chastised him, prying myself out of his grip and grabbing another towel for my wet hair. With a sharp warning look, I left him sitting there and padded back to my bedroom to hunt down some clothing. I needed the physical barrier on my flesh if I was to keep my wits about me.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Zed called after me, and I just knew he was going to push me into a corner on this. I'd thought our honeymoon period might last longer, but... oh well.
Simmering with annoyance, I spun around in the middle of my room to glare at Zed, only a few paces behind me. "You know exactly what it means. You don't get to bitch me out all fucking day about doing the only thing that could be done to ensure Seph's safety, then throw a hissy fit when I leave, then dismiss Lucas like a naughty puppy because you want to get your dick wet."
"I might... leave you guys to have this out," Lucas said from my doorway, looking way too fucking entertained about Zed being in trouble.
"Good," Zed snapped, and I glared death at him.
"Stay," I barked, contradicting Zed. "Zed needs a reality slap."
My sec
ond gaped at me like he was actually offended by that statement. Like he didn't know full fucking well he had it coming. "I need a reality slap?" he repeated in disbelief. "For fucking what?"
"For this," I replied, poking him in the chest, which was most definitely puffed out. Fuck me, what had I been thinking, getting involved with multiple men? Worse yet, multiple men who all suffered a severe case of overconfidence and didn't play well with others. Who said women didn't think with their dicks? Because that was the only logical explanation here.
"This isn't going to work between us, Zed," I told him in a marginally calmer voice. "This... thing we have. It's too much. It's all-encompassing, and I can't give you what you want."
Pain flashed across his face, and his brow dipped in a frown. In the corner of my eye, I caught the flash of movement as Lucas disappeared, no doubt trying to give us privacy to work through our shit.
"Don't," Zed uttered with dread. "Don't fucking do this now. Not now. You said that you love me."
I swallowed back the scream in my throat. "I do. But I also love Lucas. And Cass. And you're not okay with that, I can see it all over your face. The last thing I ever want to do is force you into a situation you're not comfortable with. But..."
The frown on Zed's face dipped lower. "But you won't choose me over them. So you're pushing me away now, thinking it won't completely rip my soul to shreds because... what? Because we only fucked a dozen times?"
Shit. I hadn't thought this through at all. Of course I couldn't do that to him or to me.
Spinning away, I raked my hands through my wet hair, grabbing onto the strands with frustration. "I don't fucking know what to do here, Zed," I admitted. "How is this meant to work? You can't honestly say you're okay with me being with Lucas and Cass now that we're together. Lucas has already told me how insanely jealous he gets when I'm... And then there's Cass, and he's..." My thoughts were all tripping over each other, so I trailed off in a small, exasperated scream.