Wicked as Lies (Wicked & Devoted #3) - Shayla Black Page 0,50
had been transitioning from frogman to boss. And the taciturn brother in front of him had been planning a wedding. Missions had been coming in, and everything had been just shy of insane.
“For sure.”
“We’re finally fine-tooth-combing that gig to figure out what went wrong. We’ve been trying to include Caleb in the discussion but”—he shook his head like he was disgusted—“my mother has kept him busy with a tour of east Texas bed-and-breakfasts and wine-country antique stores for weeks. While planning their big upcoming cruise. He’s thrilled, by the way.”
Beyond the fact the colonel was the last person Zy could picture hanging out happily on a big-ass boat while grazing at the buffet, Joaquin had actually told a joke. “I’m sure. It sounds horrible.”
“It does. I’m grateful Bailey chose something way less mind-numbing for our honeymoon. Anyway, now that we’re deep-diving into that trip, Hunter, Logan, and I have come to the inescapable conclusion that somehow our information fell into Montilla’s hands.”
At the time, Zy’s gut had told him there was something fishy happening, but everything had gone down way too fast for him to discern what. And he’d traveled straight from Mexico to the hospital to Tessa’s place…and ended up leaving with his gut tied in knots. “I don’t know of any reason for Trees to have betrayed One-Mile or the rest of the team.”
Suddenly, Joaquin pasted on his version of an affable smile. “It was a long shot, but I figured it was worth the ask. You going to pick up Trees at the airport?”
Zy didn’t believe the quick change of subject, but he played along. “Yeah. He should land in about an hour.”
“Glad he made it home in one piece. Why don’t you get out of here? Unless we get some word on One-Mile’s location, I’ll see you Monday.”
Joaquin and the bosses wanted to talk about him behind his back? Decide whether he was being honest? Fine by him. Maybe a couple of days away from this shit, hanging out with Trees and downing some beer, would improve his mood.
Back at his desk, he grabbed the keys to his motorcycle and pocketed his phone, then headed toward the front of the office and the door that would let him escape this asylum.
He stopped short when he saw Cash Bennett—spiked hair, classic aviators, loud graphic T-shirt, and baggy-ass jeans—leaning on Tess’s desk as if he had every right to be there. His protective instincts flared. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
The asshole just smiled. “Waiting for my girlfriend. She’s in the restroom, but once she comes out, we’ll be leaving to pick up our daughter and spend a quiet evening together.”
She was dating this douche again? “Bullshit. She has a restraining order against you.”
“She did,” he admits. “She lifted it a few weeks ago. You know, when I moved in.”
He was living with Tessa?
That had to be a lie. If it wasn’t… Just the thought of this slime cohabitating made his blood boil. “I don’t believe you.”
He reached into his pocket and produced a jingling ring, singling out one shiny key in particular. “This is mine. I moved in almost two weeks ago.” He leaned in. “And unlike you, pal, I’m not sleeping on the sofa.”
Zy had to muster all his will not to lay waste to the motherfucker right here, right now.
Cash laughed. “You should see your face. You’ve got it bad for her. Back in March, you wanted to do more to her body than guard it, but you never did. And now she’s mine again.” He dropped his voice. “In case you were wondering, we fuck. All. The. Time. She’s a lady in the kitchen but a total whore in the bedroom. And I’m here for it.”
That did it. Zy was going to punch him like a bag, and he didn’t give a shit if he got fired or arrested.
He lurched at Cash, grabbed the asswipe by his shirt, and reared back his fist.
“What are you doing?” Tessa screeched. “Stop!”
Zy didn’t let go, just glared at her. “He moved in with you?”
She stepped back. Her face blanked.
He knew it was true before she opened her mouth.
“A couple of weeks ago.”
Son of a bitch.
He released Cash and approached Tessa. “Why?”
She gripped her purse tighter and picked up her laptop, clutching it against her chest as if it would somehow protect her from his anger. “Because he’s my daughter’s father, and I don’t owe you an explanation.”
Because he meant nothing to her anymore. He’d been carrying