Timber (Hades Book 4)

  TIMBER

  HADES #4

  Tate James

  Contents

  STAY IN TOUCH

  CONTENT WARNING

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Epilogue

  TWO YEARS LATER

  A NOTE FROM TATE

  Honey Trap

  Also By Tate James

  Tate James

  Timber: Hades #4

  Copyright © Tate James 2021

  All rights reserved

  First published in 2021

  James, Tate

  Timber: Hades #4

  No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. All characters in this publication other than those clearly in the public domain are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Cover design: Tamara Kokic

  Photographer: Wander Aguiar

  Models: Evan Keys and Phillipe

  Editing: Heather Long (content) and Jax Garren (line).

  This book is dedicated to survivors.

  You’re the real heroines.

  STAY IN TOUCH

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  CONTENT WARNING

  Dear Reader, if you’re here then you’re already up to speed on Hades’s journey so far. You know what kind of life she’s led and what kind of person that’s shaped her into.

  Knowing that, I think you’re probably able to use your own good judgment on whether you’ll find the scenes and content in this book triggering or upsetting.

  Please remember that every person processes and deals with trauma in their own unique ways, no one way is correct. This is Hades’s story. Her methods and mechanisms to survive and thrive are her own. I hope you will read through the tough parts and trust that Hades will get her happy ending, made all the brighter for the darkness she endures along the way.

  1

  ZED

  The dull ache in my hand sparked hot as I flexed and released my fist. Years of split knuckles had built up enough scar tissue that they hadn't busted this time, but goddamn, I'd have liked them to. I'd have liked to slam my fist into that smug bastard's head about seventy-five more times until both my fist and his face were nothing but hamburger.

  One punch was all I got, though—after he clapped me on the shoulder, oozing victory as he called me old friend. Like I'd been colluding with him this whole goddamn time. My stomach flipped at the idea, but I knew damn well how it looked. Even so, I couldn't stop myself from swinging that punch.

  "You should have fucking killed him," Lucas announced, his arms folded over his chest and his expression stricken. I paused briefly, surprised to see him still inside Timber. Then again, the Gumdrop was made of tougher stuff than I'd originally given him credit for. It'd take more than one omission of truth for him to give up on our girl. Shit. His girl. She wasn't mine anymore. Not after the way that shit had just gone down.

  "The fuck are you still doing here, Lucas?" I asked in a weary groan. "Shouldn't you be pouring your feelings out into a diary or some shit?"

  He gave me a baffled expression as I reached over the bar and grabbed a bottle of Maker's Mark straight out of the speed rail. "What?"

  I just shrugged. Wasn't that what teenagers did? Fuck if I knew; I’d never gotten to be one. Neither had Dare.

  Lucas's jaw clenched as he stepped closer, his eyes darting to the door, then back to me. We were alone inside Timber, the FBI crew all gone now that they'd picked up their mark. After I’d punched Chase, they’d pulled guns on me. But he'd waved them off with a laugh and all but taunted me into hitting him again. No doubt he'd have happily taken the opportunity to have me shot, so I'd backed off.

  "Look, I'm still here," Lucas snapped, raking a hand through his hair in exasperation, "because I know this isn't what it looks like. You're not seriously going to act like that was all true."

  I cracked the wax seal on the cap with my teeth, then tugged the stopper out and spat it aside. No way in hell was I putting the bottle down before it was empty. "Wake up and smell the betrayal, Gumdrop," I muttered, then took a long pull on the bourbon. "Sometimes if it quacks like a duck and shits like a duck, it's a fucking duck."

  Lucas stared at the side of my head for a long time, but I kept my dead eyes fixed on the bar that was supposed to be the crown jewel in the Copper Wolf empire. The bar Dare and I had worked our asses off to build into something worthy of the new Timberwolves. Something to finally erase the ghosts of her father's reign. Fuck.

  "You're so full of shit I'm basically choking on it," Lucas told me in a quiet voice as he leaned in close. "No way in hell would you betray her like this. You might have Chase fooled; you might even have Hayden fooled. But I can see right fucking through you." He gave a disgusted shake of his head and backed off a bit. "You know where to find me when you're done sulking. In the meantime, I'll start working on a plan to get our girl released from FBI custody. Fuck knows I don't trust whatever Chase has up his sleeve now that she's separated from us."

  He started to walk away, and I turned to scowl at his back. "That's it?"

  "What else is there, Zed?" he asked, pausing to shrug at me. "You can save your excuses and apologies for Hayden. God knows you'll need them."

  Fucking kid had me speechless. I'd expected him to punch
me in the face or something. I sure as fuck hadn't expected this trust that I hadn't just screwed over the love of my life.

  "Oh, actually, now that you mention it." Lucas snapped his fingers like I'd just reminded him of something. Then he strode back over to where I sat on one of the brand-new bar stools and slammed me with a viper-fast right hook. The force of the blow knocked me clean off my stool, and my head smacked into the parquetry floor as Lucas stood over me with a hard look on his face. "That was for the look on Hayden's face when she realized you'd been lying to her. You ever make her feel like that again—no matter how noble your intentions—I'll fucking kill you. We clear?"

  I groaned, touching my fingers to my throbbing cheek. "Yeah," I spat. "Clear."

  Lucas just nodded and stormed out of the bar, leaving me to lick my wounds all alone. How fitting.

  The front door of Timber slammed behind Lucas, and I rolled to my feet with a heavy sigh. I'd known this day was coming; I'd known all the secrets would bite me in the ass. Yet I'd kept my mouth shut. Over and over during the last few months, I'd wanted to tell her. And over and over I'd lost my nerve. At first, I'd worried she'd shoot me. Then I'd worried she'd stop loving me. And goddamn if I wasn't willing to do anything for even one more day inside her heart. Even knowing this would be the sorry outcome of it all.

  I righted my stool and sat back on it with a muttered curse, grabbing for my bourbon that had thankfully remained upright. Karma was kicking the shit out of me today, though, so I barely managed three swallows of bourbon before the hollow sound of footsteps echoed through the empty club behind me.

  A familiar perfume reached my nose, betraying my visitor's identity before she slid onto the stool beside me.

  "Can I have some of that?" she asked, giving me a watery smile and nodding to the bottle in my hand.

  I levelled a scathing glare in her direction and took a long, deliberate sip directly from the bottle. "Get fucked," I replied with a wince after I'd swallowed.

  Her mouth tightened with anger, and one brow lifted. "That's no way to speak to your mother, Zayden."

  I snorted a humorless laugh. "My mother is dead."

  She gave an exasperated sigh and folded her hands together on the bar top in front of her. "Fine. Then it’s no way to speak to your handler, Agent De Rosa. You knew—"

  Fuck that. She'd just poured gasoline on the smoldering burn of my anger, and I exploded before she could get any more words out.

  "I knew what?" I roared, shoving my stool back from the bar and kicking it aside when it fell. "I knew that you were setting us up? That you were working with that revolting piece of shit Chase Lockhart this entire fucking time? Mom, you promised me she was safe. You fucking swore to me that this would all keep her safe." My voice broke over that, and I knew she heard it. Her eyes tightened like I'd just fired shots. "You told me that if I did this, Dare would be untouchable."

  I was begging her now, with my eyes, with my very being. This whole shit show had gone against everything she'd promised. I wanted her to explain, and I lacked the maturity and faith in her that Lucas had just shown in me. Call me crazy, but I'd been burned by my mother’s lies before. Somehow, I knew this hadn’t been done to help me or Dare.

  My beautiful mother, the former Veronica De Rosa, just drew a deep breath and cocked her head as she blinked at me unapologetically. "I lied."

  Those two words had me seeing red, and before I even registered what I was doing, I had my gun to her head. Only then did I see any kind of guilt cross her face.

  "Are you going to shoot me, Zayden? Your own mother?"

  I scoffed. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't."

  She wet her lips, her eyes wide and unblinking as I held the gun to her forehead. "Because I love you, son. I would never do anything to hurt you."

  Tension stiffened my trigger finger, and I gave a bitter laugh. "You don't even know what love is, Veronica." Swallowing the bile in my throat, I withdrew my gun and averted my gaze. "You're not worth the clean-up fee."

  Her posture slumped ever so slightly in relief, and it made me furious all over again. I should have killed her the moment she walked back into my life five years ago.

  "Zayden," she said softly, "I know you don't understand—"

  "That's an understatement. Are you going to explain it to me?" I swung my gaze back to hers, meeting cool blue eyes that were a mirror image of my own. I already knew the answer, though. It was written all over her face. "Of course not. Get the fuck out of my venue, Agent Laurence." She'd never used her real name when she'd been married to my father, and when she’d resurfaced to recruit me that day after the Timberwolf massacre, she’d reintroduced herself to me as Agent Rebecca Laurence.

  Her mouth tight; she drew another long breath, then gave a short nod and stood up. "This isn't finished between us, Zayden," she told me quietly.

  I sneered. "Oh, it really is. Consider this my resignation."

  She stiffened, and tension radiated through her face. "Don't be stupid, son. This wasn't a voluntary position."

  "No, it wasn't," I agreed with a bitter laugh. "But you just destroyed the only leverage you had against me. So, with all due respect, Mother? Go fuck yourself."

  She stared at me for a long moment, then gave a frustrated sigh. "We'll discuss this further when you're less emotional." Spinning on her heel, she started to leave the bar per my request, but I let out a low, irritated growl as a thought sparked in my mind.

  "Wait," I snapped. She paused, turning back to look at me with a cocked brow. "How long?" I asked. "How long has he been involved with the FBI? That simpering fool outside called him the director but you and I both know that's not true." One of the backup agents had said it right after I'd punched Chase. He'd smirked, too.

  My mother wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Of course he's not the FBI Director. But he has been lobbying for an elevated position, and somehow—lord knows how—he's charmed a lot of the lower-level agents into supporting him. They call him 'the new director' when no one is around to hear their disrespect to the current director."

  I shook my head in disbelief. "I don't get it. Chase Lockhart. He's clinically insane. How the fuck did this happen? Why did you never tell me?"

  She huffed a short, angry sigh. "I only found out a few weeks ago. He's using another name, of course. And in case you forgot, the number of people left within the Bureau who could identify him as Chase Lockhart are pretty damn limited." She held two fingers up. "You and me."

  I scowled. "That still doesn't explain how the fuck he even got in. I'm missing a piece of the puzzle here, Mom. Fill me in."

  Her gaze darted to the ceiling like she was debating whether to tell me the truth or lie. Then she touched a hand to her hair in an anxious gesture. "I don't have the full story," she admitted quietly. "It's above my paygrade. But I do know he was a protégé of a former director. Brant retired a couple of years ago—medical reasons—but still had a lot of connections, political and otherwise in DC."

  I had nothing to say to that, so I remained silent as she glared at me.

  "Is that all?" my mother asked. "Because if there is something else you want to know—"

  "Who gave them that recording?" I demanded. "Was it you?"

  She wet her lips, then nodded. "I know you care for her, Zayden. But she's one of them. She's a criminal."

  I exploded, smacking the bottle of bourbon off the bar to smash on the floor. "So am I!" I roared back at her. It was an old argument, though, and I knew better than to try to change her mind. "Get out before I shoot you, Agent Laurence. We're done here."

  She was smart enough not to hang around this time, quickly exiting the bar and closing the door carefully after herself.

  Once again, I was alone. But this time I felt like I'd been repeatedly kicked while I was down. Hanging my head, I let myself crumple to the floor. Brant Wilson. Why had that name not registered when we first saw it in the file Dallas delivered? All the redactions should have been the first fucking tip-off, b
ut for fuck’s sake, I knew him. Or at least I knew of him. When I'd first been coerced into the FBI, I'd done my research. Brant Wilson was an associate director within the FBI and not connected enough to the Shadow Grove area for me to have paid much attention. Still, I should have remembered.

  I'd never met him, of course, and hadn’t recognized him when he was caught snooping around. But when I saw his name, it should have reminded me. There were no excuses. I'd fucked up royally.

  Now I was paying the ultimate price. I'd lost the only person I'd ever truly loved. She'd never forgive me for this, and I didn't even blame her.

  2

  HADES

  The sharp taste of chemicals in my mouth made my stomach churn. I gagged as bile rose in my throat. No way in hell was I vomiting, though. Not when I couldn't move my body.

  I blinked my heavy lids, trying to bring the room around me into focus, but it was to no avail. Everything remained dark and hazy, and just that small amount of effort wiped me out. I backslid into unconsciousness once more.