"The suspense is killing me, guys," Cass drawled, sounding anything but tense.
"Ten years ago Brant Wilson took a position within the FBI. All records past that date have been redacted beyond Dallas's capabilities." Zed held the paper out to Cass to read for himself and gave me a grimace. "That can't be a coincidence. Right?"
I snagged my drink from the table and downed the whole thing in one gulp. "Nope," I croaked, handing Zed the photograph of Brant Wilson that I'd been looking at. "Recognize him?"
Zed frowned at the picture a moment, then his eyes widened and flicked back up to meet mine. "Is this—?"
"Yup," I replied, feeling sick.
"Fill me in," Cass rumbled.
My mouth felt dry again, so I swiped his whiskey for a sip. "That"—I tapped the photograph that Zed handed him—"is someone who was caught snooping around the Cloudcroft docks a few months ago. He was caught taking pictures of incoming shipments, and when questioned, he claimed to be a spy for the Diamondbacks."
Cass blew out a breath, grimacing. "You killed him."
I nodded, dying inside. "I killed Lucas's dad."
38
Seph and the pizza interrupted any more discussions we could have about Lucas's bio-father and the fact that I'd put a bullet through his head just four months ago. Only one decision was made, and that was not to tell Lucas about my part in Brant Wilson's disappearance. We would give him the packet of information Dallas had delivered and leave it at that. For now.
It had me all twisted up with guilt and anxiety, though, so I'd gone to bed alone for the night. Besides, my poor, worn-out vagina needed a night to herself for recovery. I wasn't used to having such an active sex life, not that I was complaining, but every now and then I felt the overwhelming need to sleep alone. Be alone.
A desire I found myself regretting some hours later when I woke up to the cold bite of metal circling my wrist. It was the click of the cuff closing that'd woken me, and despite knowing I'd just been handcuffed, I still tried to jerk out of bed on instinct.
"Ah-ah," the shadow-shrouded figure above me scolded, stepping back so he was just out of reach. He'd only cuffed one of my hands to the headboard, but it was enough to trap me. "You look so pretty when you sleep, Darling."
A deep shudder ran through me as I wondered how long he'd been in my room watching me sleep. Fuck, I was never sleeping alone again.
"What the fuck are you doing here, Chase?" I snarled, yanking on the handcuff and testing how tight he'd done it. The whole idea of dislocating my thumb to slip the cuff was pure fiction, and I wasn't stupid enough to attempt it... again. So I just had to hope he'd rushed and not done the cuff tight enough.
My ex chuckled softly, flicking my bedside lamp on so I could see his sick smile as he peered down at me. "Just paying you a little visit, my sweet. You never stop to chat when we pass in the street; it hurts my feelings."
I tugged on the cuff again, furious that he'd caught me vulnerable and terrified at the idea he'd been able to break into Zed's house undetected. How many times had he broken in without us knowing?
"Your days are numbered, Chase," I growled, pulling my hand harder against the metal. It wouldn't be the first time I'd slipped a handcuff. It hurt to get over the joint at the base of my thumb but wasn't impossible. "You must know I'm coming for you soon. Not even you are deluded enough to think you're getting away with all of this."
His grin spread wider. "I look forward to it," he replied with total sincerity. "I can't wait to see you fight back. It's going to be so delicious." He pulled something from his pocket and stroked his cheek with it, like a lucky rabbit's foot or something. "So very delicious."
I jerked on my cuffed hand again and hissed as the metal ripped my skin open. A little blood would just lubricate it, though. "What did you come here for, Chase? Just to prove you could?"
He shrugged, that smile unshakable. "That, and I wanted to pick up a souvenir." He turned his hand around, showing me what he'd been rubbing on his cheek so affectionately. It wasn't anything so innocent as an animal's foot. It was a thick lock of copper-red hair.
I drew a sharp breath, my eyes automatically shifting to the spill of my hair across my pillow, but Chase's malicious chuckle made my blood run cold.
"Don't worry, Darling," he purred, "I wouldn't touch a single hair on your head. They're far too pretty right where they are."
A surge of adrenaline shot through me, and I wrenched my hand through the cuff with a blaze of pain. Chase darted out of reach as I threw myself toward the bedside table to grab my gun. Except...
"Looking for this?" he taunted, spinning my Desert Eagle around his finger, then kissing the barrel like an old lover. He was backing slowly toward the open window of my bedroom, and I knew I had a choice to make.
"You're a walking dead man, Chase Lockhart," I snarled. "I'm going to enjoy killing you again. This time I'll make sure it's painful."
He cackled with glee. "Not if I get you first, Darling. An eye for an eye and all that biblical shit."
With a quiet, frustrated scream, I did nothing to stop him as he disappeared out the window and into the night. I didn't have time, and he would live to die another day. I raced out of my room and down the hall to Seph's loft bedroom.
The door was open, and my whole body went weak with fear as I took the stairs three at a time to get into the loft space that Zed had set up for my sister. I burst through into her bedroom with my heart thundering so hard I could barely hear anything else, expecting to see the worst.
But there she was, still fast asleep and snoring like a lumberjack. She hadn't even stirred with all the noise I'd made, which explained how Chase had cut her hair without her even noticing. Fucking hell.
For a long moment I stood there staring at her, my chest heaving and my fists clenched at my sides while I tried to get a handle on my rage and fear and frustration.
A movement on the stairs made me flinch hard, then I let out a long, slow breath when I saw it was Zed. He gave me a puzzled, concerned look, and I laid a finger over my lips to tell him to be quiet.
He nodded his understanding and waited as I pulled Seph's blanket up over her shoulders. Then I checked the small gable window to ensure it was locked from the inside—even though I knew how Chase had come in. When I returned to Zed, I was only a fraction calmer than when I'd come running in to save my sister.
"What's going on?" Zed whispered as we tiptoed back down the loft stairs and quietly closed the door at the bottom behind us. "Did something happen?"
A small, slightly hysterical laugh bubbled up in my chest, and I raked my fingers through my hair. But Zed caught my forearm before I could complete the gesture and jerked me closer in alarm.
"You're bleeding. What the fuck happened, Dare?"
I peered at the hand in question and grimaced at the mess I'd made of the skin. It was nothing life-threatening, but now that he'd reminded me, it was stinging like a motherfucker.
Instead of standing there in the hallway and giving him the whole stupid story, I nodded in the direction of his bedroom. He took the hint and strode along the hallway with his fingers still tight around my forearm like he could somehow heal my scrape with the power of his mind. How useful that skill would be in my world made me wish I believed in magic.