Timber (Hades Book 4) Page 23

  30

  Zed drove us back toward Shadow Grove, then took the mountain road up to the lookout we'd come to once before. It was still about an hour before dawn, and the stars were breathtaking as they twinkled over the sleeping city.

  From the depths of his trunk—past our weapons and bloody clothes—Zed pulled out a stack of blankets and a picnic basket, then set us up in an area on the grass. When he was done, he patted the spot beside him, and I couldn't wipe the smile from my face as I sat down.

  "You planned this in advance?" I asked with an edge of disbelief.

  He gave a shrug. "Figured it was a possibility. It's been ages since we've done this, hasn't it?"

  From the picnic basket he pulled out a box of homemade scones and some little jars containing vanilla whipped cream and raspberry jam. And a bottle of Champagne. The best kind of breakfast.

  "You're spoiling me, Zayden De Rosa," I murmured, watching him as he prepared the scones with toppings.

  He handed me a plate, then popped the cork on the Champagne. "You deserve to be spoiled, Dare." He draped a blanket over my shoulders as I took a huge bite of scone loaded with jam and cream.

  I was incapable of response, my mouth full, so I just got comfy on the blanket and stared up at the sky. It was a magical time of day when the stars were still so damn bright but the sky no longer the deep ink of night.

  We finished the scones in no time, then lay back on the blanket drinking Champagne straight from the bottle as the sun started peeking over the horizon.

  "I guess we should get back," Zed murmured reluctantly when we ran out of wine. "As much as I'd love to take advantage of the situation"—his fingers trailed down my bare skin, making me shiver—"I think that might be a bit of an asshole move on my part."

  I bit my lip, wanting to disagree. But he knew, like I did, that I wasn't ready to sleep with him again. Not after the scars Chase had carved across my mind while masquerading as Zed.

  So I swallowed hard, sat up, and tugged the blanket tighter around my shoulders. "I'm working on it," I said quietly.

  He huffed a short laugh. "I know. I never thought I'd find myself thanking another man for making my girl come, but... there it is. I know you asked Lucas and Cass to push you, but I want you to know I won't. I'll wait, as long as it takes, until you're ready."

  Reaching out, I cupped his cheek in my hand and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. "I love you, Zed," I whispered against his lips. "You're my best friend. My fucking soulmate. No one can take that away from us, okay? We will get through this." I kissed him again, deeper, parting my lips and gasping as he kissed me back with barely restrained need.

  At the point our kisses might have led further, Zed eased away with a grimace. "We should go," he muttered.

  I nodded, hating myself a little, but helped pack up our picnic.

  We got back to Zed's house just as Cass was leaving, and he gave us both a long look.

  "Calm down," Zed muttered, grabbing the bag of blood-soaked clothes from his car. "I just didn't want blood all through the Ferrari."

  Cass snorted. "Convenient. I'll have to use that excuse next time." He shot me a wink, and I pictured the two of us riding his motorbike in just underwear. It was a hot image, no lie.

  I leaned into his body when he looped his arms around my waist, kissing my hair as he rumbled a good morning.

  "Where are you going so early?" I asked, tipping my head back to look up at him. In my bare feet, he was a long way up.

  "Nadia's," he told me, tucking a stray lock of my hair behind my ear. "She's getting the furniture delivered this morning and wants me to move it around six hundred times before she's happy with the placement."

  Using my ponytail, he tugged my head back further, then kissed me thoroughly enough my whole body flushed with heat.

  "Mmm," he rumbled, "you taste like Champagne."

  Zed muttered something about doing laundry and exited the garage, leaving Cass and I alone. I watched him go, troubled but at a loss for how to fix it. How to fix myself. But before I could voice those worries to Cass, he scooped me up with a strong grip and pinned me to the side of the Ferrari.

  His mouth crashed back down on mine, kissing me even harder now that we were alone. My legs wound around his waist on instinct, and the hard bulge of his jeans ground against me in the most delicious way.

  "How did you do it?" he asked in a husky whisper, his lips at my ear. "Did you shoot him between the eyes?"

  Oh fuck. My hips jerked, rolling against him as a gasp slipped from my lips.

  "No," I replied, breathless as he rocked against me, deliberately playing against my already sharp arousal. "No, I slit his throat while Chase watched on video call."

  Cass gave a low groan, his teeth teasing at my throat as his fingers gripped my ass tighter. "Fuck, that's hot." He rocked his hips again, the zipper of his fly rubbing right against my clit and making me moan. "I wish I could have seen you do it."

  Shit, Cass knew exactly how to turn on the psychopath living under my skin. Another roll of his hips, another sucking kiss at my throat, and I exploded. I came hard with gasping moans, shaking against the side of Zed's car as Cass held me up.

  He released me a moment later, letting my trembling legs drop back to the cold concrete floor as he kissed me stupid.

  "Have a good day today, Angel," he rumbled, then let me go with a longing look as he sauntered over to his motorbike.

  I didn't try to pretend I wasn't watching as he rearranged his dick before climbing on, and the look he gave me before tugging on his helmet was pure sex. Fuck, Cass was hot.

  Making my way back into the house with weak legs, I decided to take a quick shower before changing into my sleep shirt. I needed a nap, and I needed to do it in Zed's bed... with Zed. But I didn't need to go rubbing his face in the smell of my recent orgasm.

  After a quick wash, I slid into Zed's clean sheets a moment after he’d finished making the bed, and he arched a brow at me in question.

  "What?" I muttered, glaring back at him. "Shut the blinds and come sleep. It was a long night."

  He hesitated only a second, then did as I’d told him. He wrapped me in his arms, tucking my face into his chest, and I could feel the tension draining out of him. I made myself a promise right then and there to try harder with him. To push through my damage just like I had with the shower.

  Zed deserved that much from me. To at least try.

  Our morning nap turned into a full day doze in bed. We got up only to have a midafternoon dinner, then retire back to bed for a lazy evening of movies and popcorn. Lucas joined us when he got back from visiting his mom, tucking into Zed's bed on the other side of me, and gave us all kinds of fun movie trivia as we watched.

  Cass stopped by briefly when he got home but screwed up his nose at the teen musical movie we were watching, claiming he'd rather wax his own balls than watch that shit with us.

  Fair call.

  A couple of days later, Lucas asked if I would go with him to visit his mom, and I eagerly accepted. I was dying to ask her about Brant Wilson and what she knew about his involvement with the Guild or the FBI or the Lockhart family. There were so many questions, and I had a feeling a lot of them would go to the grave unanswered.

  "You know how Big Sal has been pretty much exclusively minding my mom?" Lucas asked as he drove us over in the Mustang. He had that ball cap on backward again, with the edges of his hair curling out from under the rim, and was generally looking delicious.

  "Yeah," I agreed. "You reckon he has a soft spot for Sandra?"

  Lucas smirked. "Oh, without question, yes. But that's beside the point. He pulled me aside a couple of days ago and expressed some concern about my mom's medication."

  I frowned. "What kind of concern?"

  Lucas shrugged. "That's what I wanted to know. He said he had a relative with MS who takes the same medication as my mom and the pills look totally different."

  I pursed my lips, thinking. "That doesn't really mean an
ything; it could be a different brand or manufacturer." I was no pharmacist, so I had no idea if that was really the case.

  Lucas nodded. "Yeah, I wasn't sure what to do with that, but given my mom's other unexplained symptoms—the memory loss and slips into dementia? I dunno. I asked her nurse Claudette what she thought, but she wasn't very helpful, just pointed out that if there was something wrong with the drugs, then we should speak to mom's doctor."

  "And her doctor?"

  He gave me a long look. "On vacation in Bermuda."

  "Of course he is." I ruffled my fingers through my hair. "What do you want to do?"

  Lucas gave a sheepish smile. "I told Big Sal to pocket a couple of the pills for testing. At best, they're exactly what they're meant to be. But..."

  I nodded. "But they might not be. Then the question is who is responsible? Her doctor, the pharmacist, her nurse?" It was a rhetorical question.

  "Or..." Lucas murmured after a long pause, "the Guild?"

  My brows rose. "Possible. Definitely possible."

  Lucas pulled into his mom's driveway, and we headed inside the house, only to pause at the sound of raised voices. It sounded like Sandra yelling at someone, then the low rumble of a man replying, calmer.

  "Mom?" Lucas called out, heading for her bedroom. He pushed open the ajar door and glared at Big Sal, who stood stoically over Sandra's wheelchair with his thick arms folded. "What's going on in here?"

  I arched a brow at Big Sal, and he winced when he saw me behind Lucas.

  "Boss," he rumbled, "didn't know you were coming by today."

  "Mom, what's going on?" Lucas demanded, giving Big Sal a shove to move him out of the way, then he crouched in front of his mother. "What happened?"

  "He took my pills!" she wailed. "He took them, and he flushed them down the toilet! I need them!" She was almost hysterical, tears streaming down her puffy face like they'd been arguing for a while.

  Lucas looked over at me with a flash of panic in his face like he didn't know what the hell to do. I gave him a small smile and indicated for Big Sal to leave the room.

  "Lucas, why don't you get Sandra back into bed, and I'll fetch her a glass of water. Then Sal can explain things to me out in the kitchen." I tried to keep my tone soft and nonthreatening, but Sandra's head snapped up toward me, her eyes narrowed.

  Deciding that I didn't need to exacerbate a tense situation, I quickly ducked out of the room and pulled the door shut.

  Big Sal just threw his hands up in frustration, stalked back to the kitchen, and started stomping around, muttering to himself as he boiled the jug for tea. Apparently, Sandra enjoyed chamomile tea in the afternoons.

  Stunned, I just watched him with my hands propped on my hips until he finally stopped slamming cupboards and heaved a long sigh.

  "You done?" I asked in a cool tone.

  He flinched like I'd slapped him and nodded. "Yes, sir."

  I pursed my lips. "Good. Now, can you explain what we just walked in on? Where is Claudette?"

  "She went to get groceries," he muttered. "Did Lucas fill you in on my suspicion about one of Sandra's drugs?"

  I nodded. "I take it you got the results?"

  "Just now," he confirmed. "It's not what it's supposed to be. According to the lab, those drugs react really badly with her other meds and could be what's causing the worsening MS symptoms. So I grabbed them and got rid of them, then she just... lost it. Wouldn't fucking listen to reason."

  I frowned. "What is it, then?"

  Big Sal gave a frustrated gesture. "Can't remember the fucking name; it was some long word with not enough vowels. But I know what it does. It damages the bit of the brain that stores memories and shit."

  Somehow, that information didn't shock me in the least. Whatever Sandra's history was with Brant, with the Guild, with her brother... someone wanted her to forget it. Badly.

  "Here's the insanity, though," Big Sal grunted. "She said she knew."

  Now that was unexpected.

  31

  It took a couple of days before Sandra became coherent enough to provide any answers. Initially she'd needed to be sedated, she was in such a state over Big Sal flushing her medication. But several days later, her nurse contacted Lucas to let him know she was doing better and seemed willing to talk.

  I'd been on my way to Anarchy for a meeting with Zed and Alexi when he called, and I immediately changed direction to head over there. Alexi could wait, but who knew when Sandra might be lucid again.

  Lucas was waiting out on the porch when I arrived and greeted me with a tight hug.

  "How is she?" I asked, peering up into his tired eyes. He hadn't been sleeping much, worried about his mom and stressed with his course load for EMT training.

  A soft smile touched his lips. "She's good, actually, the best I've seen her in... I don't even know. Since we got back to Shadow Grove, I guess."

  My brows rose because if that wasn't suspicious as hell, I didn't know what was.

  "I feel like an asshole asking this of you, Hayden," he said quietly, "but do you mind... not coming inside? She's doing so good, but when I told her you were on your way, she got all twitchy and shit. Suddenly it was all warnings about getting mixed up with the Timber family and..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "A bunch of bullshit, essentially. But I think you must look enough like your mom that it makes her jumpy."

  I suspected as much. "Totally fine," I assured him with a smile. "I'll wait for you, though. I already told Alexi I'd see him tomorrow, so I've got nowhere to be."

  Lucas's shoulders sagged with relief, like he'd thought I might be offended. "Okay. Maybe after we leave here, I can show you something I set up while I was playing Hades that week."

  I grinned, curious. "Deal."

  He kissed me quickly, then headed back inside the house to speak with his mom without his scary gangster girlfriend looming. I knew he was right; Sandra had reacted oddly to me every time she'd seen me. It was more important that Lucas get the answers he needed.

  So, for lack of any better ideas, I headed over to the twin wicker chairs on the far end of the porch and sat down to wait.

  A moment later, though, I realized I was sitting directly outside the sitting room and the window was open, allowing me to hear everything said inside the room.

  For a while Lucas just talked to his mom about safe subjects—his gymnastics, memories of his childhood moving around the country—and he told her proudly about his EMT training.

  "That's so great, Luca," she murmured after he'd told her, in vague but excited terms, about how Doc had let him suture up a real person recently. I smiled, running my thumb over the fresh scar on my wrist.

  Lucas's next question was so quiet I didn't make out the words, but Sandra's reply was clear.

  "I can't, Luca," she exclaimed, sounding pained. "I can't talk about it. Ever. You don't understand—"

  "Of course I don't," he exploded, "because you won't explain it! Jesus, mom, whatever it is, trust me when I say I can handle it."

  "It's not that, Luca. It's... if anyone finds out... I can't... They warned me what would happen, and I won't risk it." She sounded resolute, but if anyone could get her to open up, it was Lucas.

  His voice dipped low and quiet as he replied, his tone soothing.

  For a long moment, there was silence.

  "They said they'd take you away," Sandra finally confessed. "They said if I ever told someone what I knew, they'd take you from me."

  "That's..." Lucas sounded frustrated, and I didn't blame him. "Mom, are you serious? I'm nineteen, not some little kid who can be taken away."

  Sandra mumbled something back, and Lucas let out some quiet curses.

  "Mom, that was fifteen years ago. Don't you think things have changed since then? I can take care of myself just fine, and I really shouldn't need to point out that my girl is quite literally the scariest thing in the Tri-State area. I'm not in danger. But you are if you don't stop mixing these medications. Are you deliberately trying to
erase your memory?"

  Silence.

  Lucas exhaled a curse. "You are, aren't you? Mom... it can't be that bad."

  "It is," she replied, sounding like she was crying. A stab of guilt hit me for eavesdropping on this private conversation. But it was far from the worst thing I'd ever done, and I'd apologize to Lucas as soon as he came outside.

  "Luca, baby, you need to understand. They didn't give me a choice." Her voice broke with a sob. The next few things she said were muffled like she was speaking into his chest while he hugged her. There was no mistaking his shocked response, though.

  "Wait," he exclaimed, cutting her off. "Like some kind of genetic experiment? Test tube babies?"

  "No!" she cried in return. "No, it wasn't... Luca this isn't some kind of Star Trek crap. It was just normal implantation. I was a surrogate, of sorts. They paid me to carry the babies and then... not ask questions. It happens all the time for couples who can't conceive on their own."

  "This isn't a loving same sex couple, Mom. They're a mercenary guild. What the hell did you think they were doing with those babies? Oh my god, is that what I am? Is that why we were always running?"

  "No! No, no, no, Luca, no. You're different. I loved your father. He didn't even know about the other babies. Only Jack knew." She was sobbing between words, but it was clear enough to understand. My mouth had fallen open in shock, and I ached to run in there and comfort Lucas.

  "Uncle Jack," Lucas muttered, bitterness coating his words. "Uncle Jack was in the Guild, Mom. Did you know that?"

  There was no gasp of shock from Sandra, just another shuddering sob. She must have confirmed because Lucas cursed again.

  His tone hardened like he just wanted answers so he could go. "What do you know about Brant Wilson, Mom?"

  Sandra drew a deep, shuddering breath. "Brant was my savior. He was the only normal thing in my life, and we were so in love. You're my only child born from love, Luca."