Timber (Hades Book 4) Page 13

  So I slid off my stool and cleared my throat. "Thanks for the burger." Then I left the kitchen to head back up to my bedroom. I needed to stretch out my muscles, find some clean pants... tackle the shower. Crap, how was I going to tackle the shower?

  It was a problem for later. First, I needed pants.

  Rather than asking Zed, I decided to use my own initiative and go looking. It was Cass's property, after all, so not like I was snooping around a stranger’s house. Surely, if the guys had some clothes here, there would be at least one pair of pants left behind.

  Except I didn't anticipate the sheer number of empty guest rooms I'd need to look through. On the third empty, dust-filled room, I gave up and sent a message to Lucas on my new phone. It was a burner phone that Cass had kept in one of the supply bags, but it was helping me feel a little more connected to the world outside Foxglove Manor.

  He replied quickly, saying that there should be a bag of my own clothes somewhere.

  Sure enough, back in my own bedroom I found a small overnight bag tucked into the closet. It hadn't even occurred to me to check there first.

  I shot him a quick thanks, then pulled out some panties and a pair of yoga pants. Perfect. There was no way in hell I could wrestle my arm into a sports bra, so I'd leave Zed's shirt on for now, but at least my bum was covered.

  Without my TV, I had to listen to the sound of my own dark thoughts as I started to stretch out my muscles. Which was a crappy idea, to say the least. After the third time I had to haul my mind out of the black fog, I gave up and went in search of the gym.

  No way in hell did a mansion like this not have a gym.

  One step out of my room, I pulled up short, though.

  "What are you doing?" I demanded, eyeing Zed on the floor opposite my door.

  He held up the thick book in his hands. "Reading Homer's Odyssey. What are you doing?"

  I scowled. "What are you doing here, outside my—" I cut myself off with a shake of my head. I already knew the answer to that. "Forget it. Where's the gym?"

  Zed arched a brow, but pushed up from the floor and tucked his book under his arm. "This way."

  He led the way through the enormous Foxglove Manor and held the gym door open for me when we arrived. Sure enough, it was almost big enough to be a commercial setup, and most of the equipment was coated in dust. A couple of the machines had been wiped clean, though. I wasn't the only one with the urge to work out while trapped here.

  I sent Zed a level glare as I entered, and he just smiled back at me before leaving.

  Weirdo.

  With a sigh, I headed over to one of the few pieces of equipment I could safely use with my arm in a sling. The treadmill. I didn't even have shoes, but too bad. I had to get my strength back, and that wasn't going to happen lying around and drinking whiskey.

  Not wanting to be an idiot and kill myself just yet, I set the machine to a walking pace. It took me a second to find my balance on the belt—I didn’t realize how much I used both my arms in everyday life. But after a minute I was walking with a confident pace.

  The gym door opened again as I set the video screen to show me a path through the Cotswolds—it was better than staring at the wall—and Zed came back in wearing sneakers and a loose tank top.

  I narrowed my eyes at him as he made his way over to the rowing machine, but he didn't speak, so neither did I. Instead, I refocused on the Cotswolds and picked up my walking pace a bit.

  There was no doubt in my mind what Zed was doing. He was keeping an eye on me, probably worried I was going to fall off the deep end again. He didn't know what my damage was with the shower, though. He didn't know about the drownings or what had sent me spiraling. So he was just watching me constantly.

  And for some reason, I didn't feel the urge to fill him in. I kind of liked his presence, even if we were at odds. Having him there, his eyes on my back as I walked the virtual paths of England, kept my mind clear. It gave me something to focus on, and that prevented me from wallowing in self-pity.

  Eventually, though, my body tired, and I reluctantly shut the machine off.

  "Done?" Zed’s voice cut through the silence of the gym, startling me.

  "Uh, yeah," I confirmed, swiping at my face. I'd worked up a light sweat, which was probably great for my body to shed more toxins.

  But it meant I couldn't put off my shower any longer. Despite everything else on my mind, I constantly felt the need to scrub my skin with scalding water. Add sweat? Yeah, I needed to brave the shower.

  "Are you seriously going to follow me everywhere?" I blurted out as Zed shadowed me up to my room.

  His face was deadpan when I spun around to glare. "Yup."

  Narrowing my eyes, I seethed. "Fine. Make yourself useful, then." I stomped over to where Lucas had left the shower shields and held out a pile to Zed. "Help me cover all my dressings so I can wash."

  He looked surprised but took the waterproof dressing covers without an argument. When my fingers fumbled at the straps of my sling, he gave a small sigh and took over.

  I flicked the buttons of the shirt open and shrugged out of the sleeves before I could second-guess myself. Zed had seen me naked plenty of times before; this was nothing new. If anything, this was just clinical. I needed his help to cover my wounds, or I risked them getting infected again. No, thank you.

  He needed no guidance as he carefully peeled the backing from the first shower shield and stretched it over the dressing on my shoulder. His fingers were firm as he smoothed the sticky edges down, and I found myself unconsciously leaning into him.

  The second I realized what I was doing, I stiffened my spine, but I wasn't dumb enough to think he hadn't noticed.

  Still, he kept silent as he repeated the process on my wrist and my ribs.

  "Is that all?" he murmured in a low, husky voice that sent a shiver through me.

  Shit, maybe this wasn't as clinical as I thought. Too fucking late now, though. I was done backing down. From anything. It was about damn time to nut up and stand strong, even in the face of my own damage.

  So I tightened my jaw and wiggled my yoga pants off to show him the only other injury that required a shower shield: two small burns on my inner thigh, courtesy of Chase's electric cattle prod.

  Zed's shoulders bunched with tension, but he knelt to carefully apply one more shower shield for me.

  "Thanks," I muttered when he was done. Stepping back from his touch on my thigh, I made my way into the bathroom and eyed up my nemesis. "Fuck you, shower," I whispered under my breath as I psyched myself up. "You don't get to win this one."

  Still, I couldn't quite bring myself to reach in and twist the handle. The memory of my meltdown early this morning was still fresh in my mind.

  Zed's gentle touch on my waist shifted me aside, and he reached in to turn the water on for me, then glanced back with a thoughtful frown.

  "Would a bath be easier?"

  I shuddered. "Fuck no." The only reason I was making any progress was because the shower didn't hold large quantities of water. A bath would just be a bigger version of that bucket Chase had held my head under in. Hard pass.

  Zed just nodded and kept his hand under the water to check the temperature. When it was warm, he stepped back to give me space.

  Briefly, I considered telling him to fuck off, that I had it handled from here. We'd have both known that was total bullshit, though, so I just gritted my teeth and avoided eye contact as I wiggled out of my panties.

  Carefully, I collected my lady-balls and stepped into the shower cubicle. I turned my back to the spray and closed my eyes as I leaned into the warm, cascading water.

  A rustle of movement made me crack my eyes open again, and I caught Zed tossing his clothes aside. A small, startled sound squeaked out of me, but he didn't hesitate before stepping into the shower with me, leaving his boxer-briefs on.

  "Zed—" I started to protest as he got wet.

  "Shut up," he muttered back, his voice dark. "Close your eyes and preten
d I'm Lucas or something."

  I almost laughed at that. As if I could ever mistake Zed for Lucas. But when his hands rested gently on my hips and guided me further into the water, I didn't resist.

  Zed didn't speak as he carefully glided the soapy sponge over my back, sweeping my hair out of the way as he worked. There was no way I could pretend he was Lucas, but the tension seeped out of my body nonetheless. With every slow, deliberate sweep of the sponge, I let a little more anxiety wash away.

  When he was done with the soap, he angled my body to rinse it all off, and his fingertip traced the swirling marks of the tattoo running down my spine.

  "Do you still believe this?" he murmured softly, following the elegant, looping characters. It was a quote written in Tibetan, a tattoo I'd had done after a trip we'd taken when I was fifteen. Chase had been stuck in Cloudcroft for some family business, so only Zed and I had gone. We'd trekked to Mount Everest base camp on what was supposed to be endurance training.

  A small smile curved my lips, and I sighed as his fingers traced the tattoo again. "Everything happens for a reason." It was a statement that our guide had used far too often but also one that resonated with me at that stage in my life. "Yeah, I do. Don't you?"

  Zed gave a long exhale but didn't answer. He just threaded his fingers up into my hair and tilted my head so that he could get my hair wet.

  I let my eyes close once more, letting him take care of me. Not once did the cold, clammy fear wash over me. Not once did panic seize control of my breathing and let my anxiety take over.

  Hell, I was so relaxed that when his lips brushed my wet shoulder, I leaned into the caress. His hands were back at my waist, and when I didn't pull away, he held me tighter. His chest met my back, the warmth of his body blanketing me as he kissed the bend of my neck more deliberately.

  For a blissful moment, I let myself sink into his embrace as his strong fingers stroked my sides. For a second, I let myself slip back into the Dare of three weeks ago, before Chase had clawed his sticky fingers back into my mind and set fire to my emotional stability.

  "Zed..." I sighed his name with regret as his chest rose and fell against my back.

  "I know," he whispered back, his voice husky. With a shuddering inhale, he moved away, creating space between us as he shut the shower off.

  My arms wrapped around myself as the water drained away, and Zed stepped out to grab a towel. Instantly, I wanted to call him back, to take things further like my heart was begging for.

  No words passed my lips, though.

  Zed held out a towel for me, and I stepped into it with bitter disappointment choking me. He just wrapped the towel around me, hugging me through the thick fabric.

  "I'm not going anywhere," he whispered in my ear. "No matter how long it takes, I love you, Dare. That will never change, and I'll never stop waiting for you."

  We both ignored the silent tears tracking down my cheeks after that.

  16

  The next morning when I woke up, things were different. For one thing, there was a fresh coffee and homemade croissant beside the bed for me... making my mouth water as I scrambled to sit up and eat it. I loved Zed's homemade croissants, and he knew it.

  Underneath the plate, I found a small stack of printer paper, and on closer inspection—with a mouthful of buttery pastry—I found printed photocopies of the Shadow Grove Gazette. More specifically, of the obituaries.

  Shit. Zed really was pulling out all stops.

  Finally, after finishing my croissant way too fast, I realized what else was different. The rain had stopped.

  Licking pastry flakes from my fingers, I slid out of bed and grabbed my coffee to take with me on my way downstairs. Surprisingly, I didn't find Zed parked in his usual spot opposite my door, so I continued down to his second favorite location. The kitchen.

  He wasn't there, either. But I soon found him standing out on the lawn, staring up at the gray sky with his phone to his ear. When he saw me approaching, a smile curved his lips. It was the kind of smile that didn't quite touch his eyes, and I frowned as he ended the call.

  "What was that about?" I asked, suspicious.

  "Cass," he replied. "There's a prediction for high winds this afternoon in this area. He doesn't think he can get back to Shadow Grove and the helicopter with enough time to pick us up."

  I nodded slowly. "So we're here a while longer?"

  Zed watched me carefully, his expression not giving away what he was thinking. "Is that okay?"

  Wrinkling my nose, I shrugged. "Makes no difference, does it? I'm still a fugitive, so until Demi can sort out all that paperwork, I can't go home."

  Zed grimaced. "Yeah, that too. But if you're desperate to leave, I can call in a friend who is closer than Cass. He might be able to get us out before the wind picks up."

  "I'm okay here." Strangely, I was. "Are you?"

  Zed held my gaze for a moment, unblinking. Then he gave a small nod. "Yeah, I'm happy to stay a few more days."

  Well, that felt like a loaded statement—on both our parts.

  "Tell Cass to just focus on his job," I said, taking a sip of my coffee. "We can hang out here until Demi gives us the okay to come home. In the meantime, I think Lucas has things handled."

  Zed shot me a quick smile. "Yes, boss." He jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen. "There're more croissants keeping warm in the oven."

  "Yum," I murmured and took my coffee back indoors with me. I needed to call Lucas and let him know what we were doing, but it could definitely wait until I’d eaten some more.

  Zed found me a few minutes later as I coated a hot croissant in strawberry jam, and gave me a grin. "I thought you'd like those." He watched me with dark eyes as I crunched into the flaky pastry and savored the buttery goodness. "Cass wanted to talk to you himself."

  I quirked one brow. "That's nice." I'd been ignoring his messages since finding out he'd chipped me like a prize bitch.

  He huffed a laugh. "Yeah, I figured that was how you felt. Told him to take his licks in person like a big boy."

  "Any chance of another coffee?" I peered down into my mug, mournful at how little was left already.

  Zed swiped it out of my hand and took it over to the coffee machine without complaint. "Do you want to shoot some shit while the rain is holding off?"

  My eyes widened, and I needed to swallow my mouthful to reply. "Is that even a question?" He met my eyes, grinning, and butterflies went nuts inside me. "I need to call Lucas first, make sure everything is running smoothly there. If Chase had Gen killed, he'll be gunning for Demi too."

  Zed pulled his phone from his pocket and slid it across the counter to me, saving me from going back up to my room to fetch the burner I was using.

  I only hesitated a second before dialing Lucas and putting the call on speaker beside me—partly so I could keep eating. Partly so Zed could participate.

  "What do you want, dickhead? I don't have time for bullshit right now," Lucas answered, and I snorted a laugh.

  "Um, it's me," I replied, grinning. "Zed gave me his phone to call."

  "Fuck, sorry, Hayden," Lucas groaned. "I always have time for you."

  "Shithead," Zed muttered, loud enough for Lucas to hear him if the answering chuckle was any indication.

  "So he's still alive," Lucas commented. "Cass owes me fifty bucks. How are you doing, Hayden? How's your shoulder?"

  Before I could answer, in the background of the call was the sound of shouting men and breaking glass. Lucas gave a frustrated sigh and cursed under his breath.

  "I'm so sorry, babe; I need to... I'll call you back, okay?" Lucas didn't sound worried or stressed, just pissed off. There was a note of authority in his voice that swelled my chest with pride. "I love you. Don't forget your meds."

  The call ended before I could reply, and I met Zed's eyes across the counter.

  "Sounds like they're testing him," he commented, unconcerned.

  I bit the edge of my lip, agreeing. On the one hand, Lucas g
etting his hands dirty was the fastest way for him to earn respect in the Timberwolves. But on the other... I really hated being the corruption in his life. He'd been such a normal teenager before getting mixed up with me.

  "Don't worry about him, Dare," Zed soothed, sensing my turbulent thoughts without a word from me. "He was made for this shit. And I do kind of mean that literally. His family's involvement with the Guild is... creepy. Not to mention Gumdrop’s uniquely useful skill set?"

  I couldn't argue with that. The Guild had always given me the creeps; they were intense in a way no other criminal or gangster I'd met were. Something about their organization being so ancient and international made them... inhuman.

  "You've got a theory?" I was curious to hear his thoughts. I thought on it myself every time Lucas surprised me with a new skill. Everything I'd come up with seemed so farfetched it might as well have been straight out of a science fiction novel, though, so I'd kept it to myself.

  Zed drummed his fingers against the side of his own coffee mug. "Yeah. Brant Wilson."

  I frowned. "Lucas's sperm donor?"

  "And former FBI associate director, the very same. But prior to his time in the FBI, he was Guild."

  Surprise rippled through me. "Are you sure?"

  "Yeah. I asked Danny to see if she recognized his name. She did." He gave me a pointed look. "Of course, she couldn't confirm that he was one of them but did say she was familiar with the name, and that generally means they were either a mercenary or a mark."

  I hissed a breath through my teeth, weighing that info in the same way, I had no doubt, Zed had. "With his military training, then going to work for the Feds... yeah, I see what you mean."

  Zed sipped his coffee, then dropped the next bomb. "I think Brant Wilson is more involved in this mess than any of us has really considered. It's been on my mind a lot in the last few weeks. When did all this shit with Chase start up again?"

  I frowned, thinking. "The night I met Lucas?"

  Zed shook his head. "That's the first we found out, but he had to have started his little war on Shadow Grove a couple of weeks before that to have so many people already in his pocket and for those Darling-marked PCP bags to be circulating."