“Because you’re in my way.”
“What makes you think I wasn’t here first?”
Zola wanted to slap her, but that wasn’t wise. It would make great television, but it would turn the other members of the house against her, particularly Gunner. That was the last thing she wanted.
“Okay, Lesley, you’re the fucking queen.”
Zola stepped into her, but Lesley wasn’t going to move. Not only that, but she smacked Zola’s wrist, causing the grapes to go flying across the room.
Not cool!
“Why don’t you pick those up, bitch?”
Zola’s spine stiffened as she studied the taller woman. Lesley was one of those model types, the ones that have no curves, but legs that seem to go on forever. She was a good five inches taller than Zola, but that didn’t worry her any. She’d taken on men even taller than Lesley.
“You knocked them out of my hand. You clean them up.”
“They’re your grapes.”
“Not anymore.”
Zola stepped forward, trying once again to move around Lesley. But she wouldn’t budge, and there simply wasn’t space between the island and the refrigerator door. And Lesly didn’t like being that close to Zola. She pushed her back with a simple shove against the shoulder.
“Don’t touch me,” Zola warned quietly.
“Why not? What are you going to do? You take self-defense classes or something?” Lesley laughed as though it was an incredibly funny joke. Then she grew serious and looked Zola in the eye. “I’m trained in Bando.”
Zola’s eyebrows rose. She wanted to laugh, but she bit back her giggles. She knew what Bando was, even knew some of the techniques for using a stick in Bando, but wasn’t impressed. If Lesley knew half of what Zola was trained to do, she’d have been shaking in her cashmere-lined boots.
“Get out of my way, and we’ll call it a night,” Zola said. “I’m exhausted. I’m sure you are, too.”
“Sure, you go run off and climb into bed with Brian.” Her eyes narrowed as they flashed with jealousy. “You enjoy stealing other women’s men?”
“You crawl into bed with Gunner. You’ve probably got half the female viewers of this damn show wishing they were you.”
She tilted her head to one side. “No. Just you.”
“Yeah? You think something’s going on there? Or do you think I’m sleeping with them both?”
“Both would be my guess. Maybe all four of the guys here in the house.”
“Then I must really be tired. And sore.”
A flash of uncertainty danced over Lesley’s face. “You think everything’s a joke.”
“I think you’re a bitch who’s so lacking in self-confidence; that you can’t stand it when your lover even looks at another woman.”
“Shut up!” Lesley cried, pushing Zola again.
“I’m warning you. Don’t touch me again.”
Lesley shoved Zola with both hands against her shoulder. Zola stumbled back into the fridge, knocking half the water bottles off the shelf. Pissed now, she raised a hand, preparing to put Lesley in her place once and for all, but a strong grip grabbed her wrist and lifted her off her feet like she weighed nothing. One second she was engaged in hand-to-hand combat, the next she’s being lifted over the kitchen island and carried out the back door of the house, Lesley screaming after her with witch like cackles that only served to fuel Zola’s anger that much more.
“Fuckin’ bitch!” she screamed when her protector set her back down on her feet in the middle of the yard. She spun around and threw a punch without thinking about it, but he caught her wrist again, easily.
“Calm down!”
It was Gunner. Of course it was Gunner.
“Why did you have to interfere? That bitch deserves to be put in her place!”
“She does, but not like this.”
“Because she’s your fucking partner!” She slammed her free hand against his chest and spun away, walking toward the back of the property, all this tense energy building up inside of her. “I’m so tired of this damn game!”
“We all are, Zola.”
“Oh, he knows my name.” She spun around again, glaring at him. “I thought you’d forgotten it, or something, seeing as how you’ve never referred to me as anything other than the new girl since I walked through those doors!”
“Don’t spit your anger out on me.”
“Why not? Isn’t that what this game is all about? Making us all turn on each other?”
He shook his head, turning partially away. But he stopped and looked back at her. “What were the two of you fighting about, anyway?”
“She wouldn’t move so I could leave the kitchen.”
“And that’s something to fight about? Talk about adolescent behavior.”
“You weren’t there!”
She began to pace again, more frustrated than she could remember ever being before. She threw herself down on the grass by the back fence and stared up at the stars, this exhaustion moving over her like she’d been sick for a week and was trying to get out of bed for the first time.
“Lesley’s just jealous of you.”
“I know that,” Zola spat. “Don’t you think I’ve known that since I walked in on the two of them in the water closet?”
“It’s not just that. She and I were the ones who won most of the comps these last few weeks. It looked like we had a good chance of winning the whole thing, but then you come in here and win more than your share. She’s worried that you’ll take the game.”
Zola shook her head. “I’m only as good as my partner.”
“And he’s an ass.”
Zola laughed, sitting up a little so she could see him. “Finally, something the two of us can agree on.”
Gunner came and sat on the grass beside her, his thigh close to hers. “It’s a stupid game, a stupid dynamic, but we all want to make this mean something. All this time we’ve been away from our friends and family.”
“I know.”
“It’s almost over. Just a few more weeks.”
“Then we’ll never see each other again.”
“Well, there’s the reunion show in six months.”
Zola nodded, thinking that it was one event she would likely miss. They wouldn’t want her to come back when everyone in this house learned the truth of why she was there in the first place. She sat up and reached up to brush grass out of her hair. Gunner reached over and pulled a few dried pieces out of one side of her loose bun, his fingers brushing the side of her face as he did it. She looked up at him; the desire to lean into him and just breathe in his scent was almost irresistible. He was watching her, too, with an intensity in his eyes that pulled her in and made her want to live there forever. He ran his fingers over the curve of her jaw, tracing a path from her chin to her ear, and back again.
“This is such a complicated situation.”
“It is,” she agreed.
“I don’t even know the first thing about you.”
“You know a few things.”
His eyebrows made a quizzical expression as he continued to trace a path along her jaw. “But do I know that those things are the truth? We’re all playing a game and lying is part of that.”
“You’ll just have to learn how to trust.”
“That’s my problem. There’s only been one person in my life I truly trusted, and she’s not here.”
Zola turned her head away from him. “That’s not how you get a girl to open up to you, Gunner.”
He laughed a little, dropping his hand back into his lap. “Yeah. I’ve never been real good at this stuff.”
She leaned over and brushed her lips against his. “That’s okay,” she said as he lifted his hand again, drawing her closer. “I’m not, either.”
He moved into her, his lips soft against hers. The tip of his tongue brushed against hers, urging her to open to him. It’d been a while since she’d been kissed properly, but she remembered what to do. She let her lips fall apart easil
y, her tongue looking to taste what he had to offer. It wasn’t as sweet as grapes, but warm and masculine and more perfect than she could ever have imagined.
“Gunner!”
Josh was in the doorway at the back of the house. His hand lifted to guard his eyes from the bright lights on the little porch. Gunner pulled back, a choice word replacing her lips on his.
“We better go see what’s happening inside.”
“Do we have to?”
He sighed, his lips brushing hers once more. But then he got up and headed off, not stopping to help her up. She watched him walk away, fascinated with the show it provided. He was a very good-looking man, even from the back. And those basketball shorts hugged his ass in a way that made it look like a masterpiece. She’d also noticed the tats on his shoulders, and the one that snuck out at the top of his shirt from time to time. Military tats, mostly, but the one scrolled over his chest wasn’t. She thought about what Durango had told her and wondered if it had something to do with his sister.
“We shall meet in the place where there is no darkness.”
It was a beautiful quote, yet disturbing, too. She thought she recognized it from a novel she read in high school but wasn’t quite sure. It made her wonder so many things about him, not just why he’d chosen such a quote, but what it meant to him. And she wondered how many more tats he had. And if she’d ever see them . . .
Zola took a deep breath and headed into the house. Lesley, Brian, Josh, Jessica, and Gunner were in the living room. Lesley was balling her eyes out, whispering loudly about the fight she and Zola had. From her point of view, the whole thing was Zola’s fault. She felt Brian’s glare as she walked into the house, but she ignored him.
Two-faced jerk!
She went into the kitchen, surprised to find the grapes all cleaned up. She looked for her water bottle, dropped when Gunner grabbed her wrist. That was gone, too, everything put back to rights. She jerked open the refrigerator door and headed to her bedroom. She’d had enough for the day.
Tomorrow was the day they’d all vote on which two couples would go up on the block. She was pretty sure she and Brian had a target on their backs, but she had also heard rumblings against Michelle and Kirk. Brian was convinced that Zola’s popularity with the viewers—an opinion he came to based solely on the questions Susan had shared with them—would keep them safe. He was partially correct. Zola knew that she and Brian wouldn’t be up on the block for the sole reason that the executive producers needed Zola to remain in the house.
Zola curled up on her bed and closed her eyes, the only thing on her mind now the taste of Gunner’s lips. Her lower belly ached almost painfully, her body wanting to find him and experience a little more of his touch. But she didn’t. She lay where she was, her thoughts making her skin burn, pretending to sleep when Brian came in a little less than an hour later. She wondered if anyone other than the viewers and the producers had seen what happened between her and Gunner. A part of her hoped not, but another part hoped they were all aware. That primal part of her that wanted to possess everything, wanted everyone to know she’d put her mark on him. And that was stupid, she knew. It was men doing that sort of caveman thing that she’d been fighting against since she was in high school, especially when her math teacher grabbed her ass when she went to him for help. But she couldn’t help how she felt.
The only thing that cooled her down was the ice bath that came when she remembered that this game would be over in a few weeks, and they’d be going their separate ways. Not only that, but the game would likely end with the arrest of the saboteur. She wouldn’t be able to hide her real identity then. At least, not with the contestants.
It was all temporary. She had to remember that.
Chapter 10
Chicago, Illinois
The Set of Stranger’s Retreat
Durango watched the monitor, blown away by how easily Zola had adjusted to the dynamics of the game despite her protests when she was first informed of the details of this case. She was behaving just like the other girls in the house, making alliances with other women while fighting off the men with grace and charm. He was pretty sure no one in the house could see the tension that came into her face from time to time, the emotions she had to swallow to play nice. He could see it, especially when he was given the opportunity to go into the house itself. But she was an Oscar worthy actress.
His only concern was how close she was getting to Gunner Pratt. Felicity was still insisting that Gunner could be the saboteur. One of the accidents had happened after he’d been alone with the safety equipment. Another had caused injury to a guy he was arguing with in the house. He thought those things had to be more than coincidence. Zola didn’t seem to agree.
But she hadn’t actually said she no longer suspected Gunner. She basically said she no longer suspected anyone.
Durango did find it a little suspicious that there hadn’t been any accidents in the seven days the two of them had been working the set. But they were due for a new comp tomorrow, and it was an athletic comp, one that would require the contestants to depend on a safety harness. If nothing happened during that, maybe he’d consider dropping the case.
Maybe.
He wasn’t sure he was ready to go back to Springfield. It was ironic that he’d find solace being back in Chicago, but he had, in a strange way. He hadn’t been outside of the studio or the hotel much since arriving, just car rides back and forth. But there was a lot less stress on his shoulders than there had been before coming here.
He wanted to go to Sarah’s grave. Perhaps, when things wrapped up here.
“. . . the producers and our faithful viewers will vote soon,” Susan, the host of the show, was saying to the live cameras. “But first, we’ll hear who each of our contestants think should go on the block this week. Nothing shows better how the contestants feel about one another than their votes on Voting Day.”
As Durango and the rest of the support staff watched, the contestants went into the diary room alone—the only thing they did alone on the show—and spoke to Susan directly.
Brian and Zola was Lesley’s vote.
Michelle and Kirk was Gunner’s.
Jessica and Josh voted the same team, Michelle and Kirk, as had been their habit since being paired all the way back in week two.
Michelle voted for Brian and Zola; a surprise vote that would cause ripples in the viewer message boards, Durango was sure. But Kirk voted for Gunner and Lesley.
Brian voted for Michelle and Kirk. And then it was Zola’s turn.
“You’ve only been in the house for seven days, Zola,” Susan said. “How does it feel to participate in your first Voting Day?”
Zola smiled softly. “I wasn’t sure what to expect when I came into this game a week ago, but my housemates have been exceedingly kind to me. I can’t imagine participating in this game with anyone else, so it’s hard for me to even think about two of my new friends going home.”
Durango smiled as he rocked on his heels, his eyes never leaving Zola’s face on the monitor.
“Unfortunately, you do need to enter your vote. So, Zola, who do you want to see leave the house on Thursday?”
Zola chewed on her bottom lip for a second, the action one of the most seductive things Durango had ever seen. He glanced over his shoulder and caught a few of the other male members of the production staff sucking in their breath, their eyes wide and their hands tucked deep in the front pockets of their jeans.
He smiled, turning back to the monitor, wondering if Zola knew what it was she did to the male species by simply existing.
“I think, Susan, that if I have to cast a vote, it should be for . . .” She stopped again, her eyes widening and appearing to fill with tears. “I hate to say it, but I think it should be Gunner and Lesley.”
Surprise rushed around the room, crew members gasping as they heard her vote. Almost everyone had been talking about the kiss Zola and Gunner apparently shared the night before. Durango had already gone bac
k to the hotel when it happened, but Billy made an appearance that morning while on break from his television show and took him into a viewing room to see the clip. For her to vote against Gunner after kissing him that way was a bit of a surprise.
Durango was slightly concerned she’d just made a mistake the viewers wouldn’t tolerate.
“That’s a surprising vote,” Susan said. “I hate to intrude on your privacy, but the cameras caught you and Gunner out in the yard last night. Why would you share such an intimate moment with someone and then turn around and vote for him to leave the house?”
Zola shook her head. “My target isn’t Gunner. If I could, I’d do anything to keep Gunner in the house for as long as possible. But Lesley, on the other hand . . .” She sighed. “It was a tough choice, but Gunner and Lesley are strong players, and Lesley is, well, not happy to have me in the house. Surely you understand.”
Susan nodded in sympathy. “I do. It is, after all, just a game.”
Zola nodded, but a single tear ran slowly down her cheek. “I guess now it’s up to the viewers.”
“It is. Thank you, Zola.”
Zola waved limply to the camera and walked out of the diary room, pausing in the hall outside as though to pull herself together. When she appeared in the living room again, she was stoned faced, clearly attempting to hide what had happened in that room.
It was brilliant. Durango was quite impressed. This woman had a big future at Mastiff Security.
The contestants went back to their regular day while the production staff was divided between watching the camera feeds and tracking the viewer votes coming across on social media. Durango was in the control booth, watching the monitors and pointing out little pockets of behavior that might be interesting to the viewers as a camera man used the remote controls to zoom in or zoom out. Felicity came into the room and watched for a moment, then rested her hand on Durango’s shoulder.
“We’ve got the final count. Susan’s about to announce the winners—or losers, I suppose—to the contestants.”
Mastiff Security: The Complete 5 Books Series Page 60