Club 22 (Hades Book 3) Page 25

  "Save it," I snapped, my glare meeting Zed's as his lips parted. "I know perfectly well what you're going to say, and I'm not in the fucking mood."

  Anger radiated through his features and his fist clenched at his side, but I knew he wasn't angry at me. Not directly. He was furious at Seph for throwing such a caustic insult at me again, and he was mad as hell that I still refused to let him tell her the truth.

  "She's pushing it too far, Dare," he growled.

  Cass huffed a sound beside me, his thick, tattoo-covered arm warm against mine. "Agreed. That was too far. She was nothing but fucking painful the whole way home, too."

  I shook my head. "She's just being a normal eighteen-year-old drama queen." I swallowed hard and met Lucas's sympathetic gaze. "A normal, spoiled, sheltered eighteen-year-old. And normal is all I've ever wanted for her. Just let it go; they're only words."

  Zed was still seething but nodded tightly, nonetheless. "Yes, Boss."

  Clearing my throat, I raised my coffee back to my lips with a slight tremble in my hand. "Did you just come from Anarchy? How are preparations looking for tonight's event?"

  He held my gaze a moment longer, then scrubbed a hand over his face and continued into the room, taking the stool beside Lucas that Seph had just abandoned. "Yeah, all smooth. I just had a gap of time and thought I'd come home and check in with everyone. I'm guessing you haven't had time to debrief with Grumpy Cat yet?"

  "Not yet," I replied, licking my lips. My stomach rumbled loudly, and Zed rolled his eyes.

  "Sit down," he ordered. "I'll cook; Cass can talk. Lucas, keep cramming for your econ exam. If you fail that, we will all give you no end of grief."

  Lucas smirked. "So bossy." But he still flipped the page in his textbook and picked up his highlighter.

  Cass nudged me to take Zed's seat, then boosted his ass up on the counter near the fridge. He seemed so comfortable in Zed's house I could almost forget that he was the reason Zed was sporting a black eye today. Almost.

  "I imagine you weren't done when we called you away on Operation: Rescue Seph," I stated, and Cass inclined his head with confirmation. "Well, in that case we will need to work out how to get you back out there without Chase spotting you." I grimaced. Even though Zed lived on an eight-acre lot, so there was no chance of neighbors peering through the windows, I was still paranoid as hell having him right there across the road. Exactly what he’d intended, no doubt.

  Cass nodded. "I've got a few ideas. We also need to discuss how to handle the Reapers. At some stage, they're going to work out that I'm not dead. Then it'll be a matter of blood betrayal."

  I shrugged. "Then I'll squash them, just like I did the Wraiths."

  Cass shot me a tiny, indulgent smile. "I'd rather you didn't, Red. I'm sure we can think of something else."

  With a nod, I watched what Zed was preparing for me to eat. It looked like he was making some variation on parmesan-and-garlic angel hair pasta. Yum.

  "Chase asked me something at dinner the other night," I said after a moment of silence. "About you." My gaze shifted from Zed's muscular back at the stove and across to Cass.

  He arched a scarred brow. "What was it?"

  "He said that he went snooping through your apartment while we were planning your funeral and that he found a hard drive full of information on Channing Lockhart." I left it as a statement, inviting him to fill in the blanks of the story himself.

  Cass tipped his head back against the cabinets, looking up at the ceiling for a long moment. Then he scrubbed a hand over his short beard and returned his steady gaze to mine. "That was an encrypted drive." Irritation was clear in his rough voice.

  I shrugged. "Not well enough, apparently." I paused, biting the inside of my cheek as apprehension twisted my gut. "Why were you researching Lockhart senior, Cass?"

  Lucas carefully placed his highlighter down and dropped his hand to my knee, squeezing gently in a sign of support, but I didn't take my eyes from Cass.

  After a tense moment of silence, Cass exhaled and shook his head. "Because he took something of mine, and I want it back."

  My brow furrowed with confusion. "Channing? How? He's been dead for five years."

  Cass grimaced. "I'm aware. He took it a good twenty-three years ago. I started looking into where he might be keeping it right before you killed him."

  "I don't get it," Lucas commented. "Why would he still have it? Or... where would it even be now? What happened to the estate when everyone was presumed dead?"

  "The Lockhart estate was passed to the closest living relative, an elderly third cousin living in Alaska," Zed replied, clearly having already looked that fact up. I'd never even given a second thought to who would inherit the Lockhart coffers when they were all dead, but clearly, somehow, it'd all found its way back to Chase. How else could he be funding his war?

  Cass gave a tight nod. "That's what I found, too. Except the old guy is totally out of his mind and nonmobile. My best guess is that he signed it all back over to Chase, under the Wenton identity."

  I drummed my fingertips on the counter, thinking, and Zed placed a steaming, fragrant bowl of delicate pasta in front of me. "Okay, but that's a long time to hold onto something. You're sure it's still in the estate?"

  Cass huffed a short laugh. "One of the original Fabergé Imperial eggs? Yeah, I'd have heard if it sold. He still had it, the old goat. He was too self-important to have ever sold it."

  My jaw dropped, and I wondered for a second if I'd heard him wrong. "What the hell were you doing with a Fabergé egg at age"—I quickly did the math—"eleven?"

  Cass sighed, his shoulder slumping. "It's not mine, exactly. It's my grandmother's. I want to get it back for her."

  Zed leaned against the counter, his arms folded and a crease of confusion in his brow. "Nadia's? Okay, what the hell was Nadia doing with a Russian Imperial heirloom worth millions of dollars? And how did Channing Lockhart get his greedy paws on it?"

  A shadow of a smile passed over Cass's lips. "She was given it as a wedding present from the love of her life, a man named Kristoff Valenshek. He was a thief, and a damn good one too. He stole it from the Kremlin itself, simply to give to her on her wedding day to another man." His eyes flicked back to catch mine. "It was one of those tragic romances, you know?"

  "Sounds like it," I murmured, my heart breaking for Nadia. Why'd she marry someone else if a man was willing to steal a Fabergé egg for her? "So she kept it, obviously."

  Cass nodded. "She hid it from her shitty, abusive husband as they immigrated to America. He died when I was six, liver disease from a lifetime of excessive drinking. After his funeral, I found Nadia looking at the egg in the fancy, velvet-lined case she kept it in. She told me not to tell my mom, but I was a kid and thought it was just a pretty egg." He heaved a sigh, rubbing his forehead.

  I could guess where this story was going. "Your mom stole the egg from Nadia?"

  He shrugged. "Sort of. Times were tough, and my mom... well. She was no gem. I never knew my dad because he was just one of her many clients, but she did her best to raise me. Mostly let Nadia do it, though, while she was off on benders or... with men. When I was maybe eight or so, something changed."

  Cass paused in his story to take a gulp of his coffee. It wasn't in his nature to speak so much, and I could tell it was grating on his nerves. It was important information, though. So I didn't offer any quick excuses to let him off.

  "She showed up with some guy she claimed to be in love with," he continued, his jaw tight with old anger. "Started bringing him home, telling me he was going to marry her one day. Apparently, they were old acquaintances, which was just a nice way of saying he was a client. This prick had no intention of actually marrying her. He couldn't, seeing as he was already married with kids of his own."

  Zed grimaced. "Lockhart."

  Cass nodded. "The same. He just used my mom for sex and a convenient punching bag. I couldn't tell you how many times I had to call my grandmother ’cause I thought my mom w
as dead after one of his visits. Then one day, the stupid bitch thought she'd try and blackmail him, tried to force him to leave his wife by threatening to expose their affair."

  "I bet that went down well," I whispered. I'd met Channing Lockhart—knew him far more intimately than I’d ever cared to—and there was no question in my mind that Chase was a product of his upbringing. Channing was as sick and twisted as they came.

  "He killed her that night. I tried to stop him, but I was this... skinny, malnourished kid. Weak." He spat that word like it was coated in poison. "One backhand and I was knocked out. I woke up just in time to see him put a bullet through her head. Then he took the egg that she'd stupidly fucking shown him and left."

  For a moment, no one spoke. What the fuck should I even say to that? I’d had no clue Cass had any history with the Lockhart family. No wonder he'd backed off so hard when I’d mentioned having previously been engaged to Chase. Cass would, understandably, despise that family.

  "Here." Zed held out a bottle of whiskey to Cass. "You need something harder than coffee."

  Cass gave a lopsided smile, accepted the liquor, and took a long swallow straight from the bottle. "Fucking oath."

  "So, you want to get the egg back for Nadia?" Lucas asked, propping his chin on his hand and watching Cass thoughtfully. "That's sweet."

  Cass's gaze turned to daggers. "Fuck you, Gumdrop."

  Lucas just rolled his eyes. "I wasn't being snide; I meant it. You obviously care a lot about your grandmother, and this was a piece of her past that meant a lot to her. It's admirable, you big grump. Take the fucking compliment."

  "That's why you got into the Reapers?" I asked quietly, processing the information he'd just shared.

  Cass slid off the counter and approached me, threading his fingers into my hair as I turned my face up to look at him. "Yeah," he replied. "Without my mom... I lost my way. Ended up in a bad crew and then got taken in by Damien D'Ath. He raised me like a son, so I felt like I owed it to Zane to stick by him when he took over."

  It made sense. But...

  "Why didn't you tell me any of this, Cass?" It hurt that he hadn't told me about such pivotal parts of his childhood. Did he not trust me? Or just think I didn't care?

  His lips downturned, and he stroked a thumb across my brow. "Because of this expression," he rumbled, no louder than a whisper. "Because I didn't want to see this look of fear and uncertainty in your eyes, Red. Not without hard evidence."

  I took a breath. "I'm not—"

  Cass gave a huff of humorless laughter. "Don't even try telling me you're not thinking Chase and I could be related. I know it was the first thing I thought, too."

  "You think Channing could have been your bio-father," Zed commented, his tone neutral. "Easy enough to check, now that we have DNA samples from you and Chase both."

  Cass nodded sharply, his focus still entirely on me. "I wanted to get your lab to run the test before bringing any of this up. I never wanted to be another weapon in Chase's psychological warfare against you, Angel."

  Did I believe that?

  My chest ached as I searched Cass's dark eyes for any sign of deception, but all I found there was sincerity. Love. He was telling the truth, I was sure of it.

  Releasing my breath, I gave a shallow nod. "That's understandable," I murmured. "I'll call the lab and get them to compare your sample against Chase's."

  Cass's shoulders relaxed as I said that, and his fingers applied pressure to the back of my neck, urging me to tilt my face back so he could kiss me long and hard. "Thank you," he murmured against my lips. "Thank you for trusting me."

  I swallowed. Trusting anyone other than Zed was still such a daunting experience. For so long, he'd been the only person alive worthy of my trust, but now I was expanding my circle to include Cass and Lucas. To some extent, even Dallas and Hannah and Gen... they were all earning small pieces of trust. It felt good.

  Maybe I'd been missing out all these years because Lucas and Cass had made me realize Zed wasn't the only one anymore. But he was still the first and the best.

  Meeting my best friend's eye across the kitchen, I gave him a reassuring smile. "Okay, let me eat this pasta before I turn into a raging, hungry bitch, then Zed and I should head over to Anarchy."

  "I need to get some training in, too," Lucas commented. "Maybe Cass can teach me a thing or two while you guys are gone."

  Cass gave a light chuckle, his hand still buried in the back of my hair like he didn't want to let me go. Not just yet. "We'll see, Gumdrop. You look pretty rough already; I'd hate to mess up that pretty face."

  The two of them started bantering like friends, and Zed gave me another pointed look. I knew what he was asking without him having to say a word, so I gave him a firm nod. Yes, I trusted Cass.

  Zed gave a faint nod back and left it at that. But I knew we were on the same page.

  34

  Our event that evening at Anarchy was a relatively big fight night set up by our marketing team as a trial run for the high-profile main event we had scheduled for two weeks away. Before we even left the house, though, Zed got a call from Rodney over at Club 22.

  "Couple of drunk suits got handsy with Maxine," he told me when he ended the call.

  I frowned at him in the mirror as I applied my makeup. "Maxine's capable enough to handle them, even without security."

  He smirked. "She did. But now they're shouting about pressing assault charges against her. Rodney needs me to come in and have a chat with the idiots."

  I couldn't help smiling back at that. "Go. Let Maxine know she's got our support. No one touches my staff and gets away with it."

  "You got it, Boss. I'll meet you at Anarchy once I'm done." He dropped a kiss to the back of my neck that warmed me all the way through. "Maybe bring Gumdrop. It'd be good for the Wolves to see him with us."

  I paused my eyeliner, giving him a surprised look, then nodded my agreement. "Good thinking. I'll see you soon. Don't have too much fun, though."

  Zed's devilish grin told me he was already planning on a whole lot of fun with the handsy bastards over at Club 22. I expected nothing less.

  I finished getting ready after he left, then made my way down to the gym in search of Lucas. Seph hadn't reemerged from her loft room, and the loud music that thumped through the floor said she had settled in, at least for the time being.

  What I found when I pushed through the gym door shocked me speechless.

  A few days ago I'd overheard Lucas talking to Zed—joking, I thought—about getting a pole installed in the gym to get him back into shape for shifts at Club 22. Apparently, Zed had taken him seriously and installed a fully bolted-in, brass spinning pole.

  Except, it wasn't Lucas hanging shirtless and upside down on the pole. It was Cass.

  "What the fuck?" I muttered aloud, and Cass jerked. His grip loosened, and he crashed to the mat, just narrowly tucking his chin to protect his head.

  Lucas started laughing, and Cass scowled absolute death at him from the floor where he'd landed.

  "Gumdrop was talking smack," Cass grumbled. "I had to prove a point."

  Lucas was laughing too hard to add any further information and had to scramble out of Cass's reach when he swiped at him in retaliation.

  "Alright children," I drawled. "As much as I want to see a repeat of whatever just happened, we should get over to Anarchy. The first fight starts in half an hour so the venue will already be filling up."

  "Who's fighting?" Cass asked, grabbing his t-shirt from the floor and tugging it over his head.

  I scowled at him. "No one important, and no, you can't sneak out to watch. I need you here to keep an eye on Seph."

  His shoulders slumped, and he hung his head in disappointment. "Babysitting. Again."

  "Did you forget you're supposed to be dead?" I arched a brow and folded my arms.

  Lucas, still snickering, clapped Cass on the shoulder as he passed him. "Tough break, old man. I'll take care of our girl tonight."

  "L
ittle shit," Cass muttered as Lucas disappeared out of the gym. His micro-smile was all amusement, though.

  I tilted my head to the side, running my gaze up and down his body. "You wanna show me that move on the pole? I could offer some pointers, maybe sort you out with some tear-off pants and a sequined thong."

  His glare flattened. "Funny, Red. Real funny. I was just proving a point to the kid." He clasped my waist with his hands and backed me into the wall beside the door. "And if you want me to take my clothes off, you just have to ask nicely."

  Goddamn, that was a tempting offer—one I only hesitated on thanks to my phone ringing in my pocket. I groaned and pushed Cass back with a hand on his chest. "I need to check that," I told him regretfully. "Don't go anywhere."

  His dark gaze heated, but he waited patiently as I fished the phone out of my tight denim pocket. The display told me it was Gen calling, and I instantly got a bad feeling.

  "Gen, what's happened?" I asked, bringing the phone to my ear when it connected. "I take it you're not calling at this time on a Friday night because you want to grab drinks."

  "I wish," she replied, sounding pained. "You’d better get over to Anarchy. The SGPD just executed a random drug raid with dogs and the whole fucking deal."

  Irritation zapped through me. Of course they chose a fight night to pull that shit. I’d never appreciated how useful it was to have the local police in my pocket until they no longer were. "So they caught a couple of coked-up patrons; that's nothing too drastic," I replied. "Or am I missing something?"

  "Yeah, it's worse than that," she replied. "In addition to the expected coke users, they've also picked up twenty-eight patrons in possession of PCP. Hades, the patrons are all singing like birds, claiming it was sold to them by Timberwolves."

  That fact made me stiffen and push Cass gently away. "They're saying what?" I hissed, fury rippling through my veins.

  "I know," Gen replied. "First the reporters, now this. Someone really wants to out us. Just... how soon can you get here? I'm doing my best, but one of the cops asked for you specifically."