"Nothing I can think of right now," I replied truthfully, "but I can have Alexi, my head of security, look back through our logbook and check for any incidents involving Mercedes."
Agent Hanson gave a small nod. "I'd appreciate that. You have my number if you find anything."
She got up to leave, but I clicked my tongue thoughtfully. "I get the feeling you didn't expect to actually get anything from this conversation, Dorothy. Care to tell me why you really came here today?"
The sneaky bitch just shot me a knowing smile. "Not really. You have a nice day, Ms. Wolff. Mr. De Rosa."
She exited the club, and I swiveled my gaze to pin Zed to his seat. "Start talking, Zayden. What do you know?"
He groaned and scrubbed a hand over his face. "Mercedes and I were... friendly."
My stomach twisted with anger and jealousy again, and I had to swallow the curses that threatened to spew out at him. "Of course you were," I muttered instead.
He let out a frustrated growl. "It wasn't recent. But she was a nice girl; she definitely didn't deserve to get murdered."
I gave a short, humorless laugh. Any normal person might have questioned if anyone deserved to be murdered. Zed and I knew better, though. Plenty of people deserved it, every damn day. It was just a shame those people weren't the ones dying.
My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I pulled it out to check who was calling. A slice of red-hot fear hit my chest when I saw the caller ID, and I hurried to answer.
"What's wrong?" I asked, biting the edge of my thumbnail.
"I'm fine," Cass replied, reassuring me, "just wanted to hear your voice, Red."
My breath rushed out, taking the panic along with it and leaving me with a slight tremble in my limbs. "You fucker," I whispered, "I thought something had gone wrong."
Zed knew who I was talking to and remained silent. He shifted his position to let his thigh rest against mine, though, offering support, as always.
"Nah," Cass replied with a yawn, "I was just thinking about last night, about the way you looked on your knees with my dick in your mouth... Made me wanna call you."
Warmth rushed to my face, and other places, and I became acutely aware of Zed's leg against mine.
"I'm just at Club 22 with Zed," I told Cass, silently begging him not to push this further. Not right now.
He gave a low, husky laugh on the other end of the phone line, catching the warning in my voice. "Fair enough, I should have waited to call later. But I was wondering if you could help me out on something."
"Anything," I murmured.
Zed shifted in his seat, his hand finding my knee. Goddamn it, he had some kind of sixth sense for knowing when I was turned on. It didn't help that Lucas had left me high and dry earlier, too.
"Can I get you to stop by Scruffy's tonight? I heard whispers that Roach is having some teething pains with his leadership. Might be good to remind the rats that he has Hades backing him." Cass sounded like he resented even having to ask, but he was right. What better way to pull the Reapers back in line than to remind them their leader had my approval?
"Of course," I replied. "Lucas is staying with his mom tonight, but Zed and I can go. Anyone in particular that needs to learn a lesson?"
Cass grunted an angry noise. "Yeah, little bitch calling himself Mad Dog. He's been stirring shit up about why they're locked out of the PCP market. Got a couple of the other young ones on his side too."
Anger simmered in my belly. Loads of Reapers—just like Timberwolves—were decent human beings making the best of a bad life. Some, like this Mad Dog, were not. "I'll take care of it," I promised him.
"You're an angel," he rumbled back, and that sound went straight to my pussy. Goddamn, I needed to relieve that pressure soon. Fucking Lucas was officially on my shit list.
Zed's fingers stroked the inside of my knee, and I shot him a warning glance. "Anything for you, Saint," I replied, holding Zed's gaze like a challenge. Fucking hell, what was wrong with me? I couldn't seem to stop taunting Zed, even though it was my damage and my hang-ups standing between us.
Cass gave another one of those husky laughs. "Text me when you get home tonight," he ordered.
Agreeing, I ended the call and arched a brow at Zed. "Looks like we're heading to Scruffy Murphy's tonight to pull some Reapers into line."
A wicked grin curled Zed's lips. "Sounds like fun. It's a date."
It definitely wasn't a date. It was business. So why didn't I correct him? Because I was a goddamn mess, that's why. I was a goddamn, head over heels in love with my best friend mess. And quietly, the idea of going on a date with Zed had my stomach all aflutter with excitement.
20
"It's not a fucking date, you stupid twit," I muttered at myself in the mirror as I touched up my winged eyeliner. "It's fucking business. Not a date."
And yet, that message seemed impossible to get through to the brainless butterflies causing havoc in my belly. Maybe just because I'd grown so used to having either Lucas or Cass around as a buffer between Zed and I? The times we were alone, they were clearly defined business situations, but checking in on the Reapers was blurring the lines. Scruffy Murphy's wasn't one of our clubs, and I had no real obligation to insert myself in Reaper politics. It was a favor to Cass, and now that Zed had put it in my head that it could be a date, I couldn't seem to shake it off.
I was so fucking pathetic. Whispering a few more curses at myself, I swiped on a coat of my favorite smudge-proof red lipstick, then called it done. I wore a tiny black dress that just barely covered my ass and showed off a whole lot of leg. Over the dress I wore my black leather gun holster and knife harness. They crisscrossed my chest and wrapped around my waist in a sexy-as-hell BDSM sort of way. Except functional, for holding my weapons.
My red-soled heels were tall—of course—and a thin strap wrapped around each of my ankles like little ankle cuffs.
I'd tied my hair up in a high ponytail, the softly curled length brushing my bare back, and I paused briefly before leaving my room to carefully slide a stiletto blade into my hair. One could never be too heavily armed when strolling into a potentially hostile environment. Not to mention Chase was still out there somewhere, and he'd be undoubtedly looking for revenge for those knockout drugs.
"Fuck me dead," Zed groaned when I left my room and found him leaning against the wall opposite, waiting for me. "You're actually trying to kill me now, aren't you? This isn't fair."
I couldn't help the wide smile that lit up my face at his reaction. I'd be lying if I hadn't dressed with Zed on my mind the whole time.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I lied. "This is my usual business attire."
Zed scoffed a laugh, his heated gaze running down the exposed length of my legs as he shook his head. "Bullshit," he accused in a whisper. "This is definitely a date now."
"Have you heard anything from Archer?" I asked, changing the subject as we headed downstairs. "Seph is still not responding to me. She currently hates me for murdering Cass."