His eyes tightened, and he started to say something before shaking his head. He shifted his gaze out to the club below us, which was about a third full of patrons already, and for several minutes we just sat there in silence.
One of the bartenders from the main bar came by and delivered drinks for us both, and Zed gave him a tight smile of thanks.
I sipped my drink, an aviation, and watched my friend carefully. He had something on his mind, that much was obvious, but something was making him hesitate to confide in me.
"Whatever is eating away at you," I said after placing my drink back down on the table between us, "you know you can tell me." It wasn't a question, it was a fact. He did know. So why was he hesitating?
His gaze returned to mine, and he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "You know I'd never do anything to put you in danger, don't you? I'd never hurt you."
I frowned in confusion. Was this about my joking suggestion that he'd submitted the creepy obituary?
"Of course I know that," I murmured, squinting at him.
He gave a small nod, the lines of his face still tight and his fingers clenched in a fist. "I love you, Dare. More than anyone. Ever."
I smiled. He didn't even seem to notice that he'd slipped and used my nickname. "I should fucking hope so; you're my best friend. We've literally killed for each other."
His brow seemed to draw tighter at my response, though, like that wasn't the answer he'd been looking for. Then his gaze flicked away from mine once more to look out over the crowd below us.
"Is it just me, or is Cass lurking around a whole lot more than he used to?" Zed punctuated his change of subject by sitting back in his seat and unclenching his fist. It was a very obvious, forced shift in his mood, and that worried me. Had he really thought I suspected him of being behind the fake-Chase messages?
Still, I followed his line of sight and groaned when I spotted the big, tattooed Reaper staring up at us from his position at the bar.
"Miserable bastard," I muttered under my breath when his eyes locked on me. He raised his drink in a small salute, like he'd heard me and agreed.
Zed coughed a laugh, then smirked. "Come over here for a second? There's something I want to see." He beckoned for me to join him on his seat, and I did so without hesitation.
"What's up?" I asked, perching on the velvet lounge beside him. A brief memory of Seph telling me that Zed liked this outfit flashed across my mind, but I shoved it aside. Zed was my friend, nothing more.
He leaned closer, a teasing smile on his face as he brushed my hair back from my shoulder. "Dare... is this a bite mark?" His fingertip stroked a line down the side of my throat, pressing against the tender spot Lucas had left behind, and for some reason I let him. I didn't smack his hand away or lean out of his touch. Hell, I liked it.
Seph was officially messing with my head. All her teasing about me and Zed fucking had made me start reading too much into every interaction with him. Now I was getting turned on by an innocent touch? Yeah, I was going to kill her.
"Maybe," I murmured, letting a smirk cross my lips. "None of your business, Zayden."
His brows rose in surprise, then he laughed.
"Well, if it's not my favorite niece and her gorgeous partner in crime," a woman said, and I jerked my head around to meet my aunt Demi's amused gaze. "I thought I might find you two here."
"Because I texted you and said to meet us here?" Zed offered, his tone dry as he leaned back in his seat again.
Demi just shrugged and sat down opposite us, in the seat I'd just vacated, so I stayed where I was.
"That too," she agreed with a smile at Zed, then shifted her attention to me. "Darling, you look flushed."
I winced. "Please don't call me that."
Demi cocked her head to the side in confusion, and I pulled up the picture of the obituary on my phone, then handed it to her.
"Oh, shit," she breathed. With a frown, she read it over, grimaced, and handed it back. "I see."
Zed leaned forward to sip his drink, then settled back once more, propping his arm on the back of the sofa behind me. "Boss, I hope you don't mind. I thought Demi might help us in the research department."
I nodded. As badly as I wanted to keep my aunt clear of Timberwolf business, I wouldn't trust information from anyone else.
"Will you look into the Lockharts for me, Demi?"
My aunt nodded, folding her hands in her lap. "What am I looking for?"
I shrugged and sat back in the seat. My back rested against Zed's arm, but I was okay with that. "Anything. Anyone even slightly connected that might have motive to attack us now."
She pursed her lips, thinking. "Someone has to know a whole lot about you to leave a message so personal and to know you'd look there and find it. I don't suppose your ex-fiancé liked to keep a journal?"
I snorted a laugh. "As amusing as that mental image is, no. Chase wasn't a journaler."
Zed grunted a sound that seemed close enough to disagreement that I shifted to look at him.
He grimaced when he met my stare. "Look... no, he didn't have a journal. But he did... sort of have something similar. I don't know. Maybe that's where this personal information is coming from."
"Explain," I demanded, shocked beyond belief that he'd kept something a secret about Chase.
Zed ran a hand over his face, then sighed. "He had a hidden camera in his room."
"What?" I spluttered the word, rising halfway out of my seat. Zed reached out, his fingers circling my forearm like he wanted to stop me from fleeing... but that wasn't even remotely in my nature. I was much more likely to shoot first, ask questions later, and flee fucking never. He knew that. So why the fuck was he touching me?
"You know what?" Demi interjected. "I'm going to leave you to this. It's starting to look like a conversation above my paygrade." She picked up her handbag and blew me a kiss before making a quick exit.
"Dare—" Zed started, and I shook my head.
"Do not try to manipulate me right now, Zayden de Rosa." My voice was pure fury, and he must have known he'd pushed too far. He cleared his throat and released my arm carefully, then drew a deep breath.
"My apologies, boss," he said in a clipped voice, like he was angry at me. "I guess I forgot my place for a moment there."
That statement almost cut me deeper than the revelation of Chase having a hidden camera in his bedroom.
"Fuck you, Zed. Don't fucking do that. Just tell me what the hell you mean about Chase's goddamn camera. I can't..." I trailed off, shaking my head in frustration and disbelief. My emotions were all over the damn place, my shoulders tighter than a bostring and my hands shaking.
If I were with anyone else, I'd never ever let them see me so damn weak. But it was just Zed. So I tucked my hands under my thighs and tried to calm myself.
"Zed... his bedroom?" my voice was no longer murderous, just stricken.
He nodded, his lips tight. He knew. I knew that he knew. Whether he'd seen the footage himself or Chase had told him... bragged... it didn't matter. Fact was, he knew something I’d hoped had gone to the damn grave.