Zed disappeared to do what I’d asked, and Rodney refilled my drink before heading over to the backstage door. For a couple of minutes, I was relatively alone. Lucas was taking care of legal with Gen, Zed was sorting out the security teams, and Rodney was reassuring the dancers that my murderous ex would not be returning. Not that the girls knew he was really Chase Lockhart, but he oozed creepy. I didn't blame them for being anxious.
I slid my butt onto a barstool and took another huge mouthful of whiskey. It wasn't even close to what I really wanted, though. No amount of liquor was going to erase my sins.
"All sorted," Lucas said, sliding onto the stool beside me and grabbing one of the glasses. "Gen asked if you wanted to file a proper restraining order against him, but I figured that would be counterintuitive to what you're planning." He raised one brow at me in question, and guilt burned through me.
"I don't know what I'm planning," I admitted in a quiet voice. "But thank you."
Zed returned, his jaw tight with anger.
"Done," he announced. "Shall we go?"
I nodded, then downed his glass of whiskey, seeing as he was driving, before sliding off my stool. "Let's go."
The three of us strode back out of the club, and I wrinkled my nose when I saw it had started raining—almost like the weather could sense my crappy mood and wanted to set the scene.
"Motherfucker," Zed snarled, ignoring the pouring rain as he strode over to his Audi. All the way along the side, from headlamp to taillight, someone had keyed his paint. "What the fuck? Is he twelve? Who keys someone's car?"
Lucas grimaced. "I'm starting to get the idea that nothing is beneath Chase when it comes to getting under your skin."
I sighed and slicked a hand over my rain-wet hair as I climbed into the passenger seat. "I have a feeling you're right. Chase isn't going to make this quick or easy, but I think that can work in our favor."
"Care to share your ideas?" Zed demanded, slamming his own door shut and stabbing at the ignition button.
His attitude, while understandable, was pissing me right the fuck off. So I just glared back at him. "Not right now, no."
Lucas let out a small groan from the backseat. "Come on guys, give it a break. All this bickering is giving me a hell of a headache."
Zed shot Lucas a scowl over his shoulder but said nothing more as he drove us out of the Club 22 parking lot. I knew full well that wasn't the end of it from him, though. We hadn't had a proper discussion in almost a week. There had been some bitter, hurtful words exchanged that night as I frantically tried to save Cass from the gunshot wounds I'd inflicted, but that was it. Now it was all just bitter swipes at each other.
Lucas, despite his age, was handling it all a hell of a lot better than either Zed or me. While I admired that about him, I was also envious. I'd somehow totally lost my cold-hearted, level-headed nature in the past few months. Loving these men was making me soft. Weak. I hated it.
I also didn't think I could live without it. If I didn't fix things with Zed and Lucas soon, I was likely to lose them. Fuck. I needed to sort my shit out.
"Are you okay, Hayden?" Lucas asked after several minutes of silence in the car. I'd been staring out the window, looking out at the rain and dwelling over Chase's weird visit to Club 22, but his question dragged my attention back to him. It was a loaded question and not one I could even remotely start to unpack.
Was I okay? After having just attended Cass's funeral, then been paid a visit from my dead ex-fiancé who was determined to break me in every possible way? No. Not even close to okay.
"She's fine," Zed answered for me, giving me a quick glance from the side of his eye as he drove. As mad as he still was, he cared. He understood. I was far from fine. Lucas knew it too. But it was sweet of him to ask, anyway, just in case I felt like talking about it all.
"I'm fine," I agreed with a heavy sigh. I shook my head, trying to clear the gut-wrenching images of shooting Cass that had just resurfaced, and scrubbed a hand through my hair. Fucking hell, I was one step away from a mental breakdown.
Lucas was silent a moment, then undid his seat belt and leaned over to pop open the glove box in front of me. "Here," he said, grabbing out Zed's flask of whiskey and handing it to me.
"Hey," Zed protested, shooting Lucas a scowl as the grinning stripper sat back into his seat. "How the fuck did you know that was there?"
I turned my face slightly, so I could see Lucas roll his eyes.
"You guys seriously underestimate how observant I am, huh?" He gave me a soft smile, showing he wasn't actually offended.
I unscrewed the cap of the flask and took a long drink of the liquor. It barely even burned as it joined the whiskey already in my stomach and did nothing to shake my melancholy mood. Not that I was surprised. There really was only one thing—one person—who had any hope of improving my mood, and we'd just left his funeral.
"I'm just tired," I admitted in a whisper. "I need a vacation."
Zed snorted a bitter laugh. "You can say that again."
I took another gulp of the whiskey, then passed it back to Lucas. It wasn't a long drive back to Zed's house, but the relief I felt on passing through his heavily secured main gates was palpable. It was weird how rapidly I'd adjusted to thinking of Zed's house as my home, but it was. More, even, than my apartment had ever been.
"Have you spoken to Seph?" Zed asked as he waited for the garage door to open.
I gave a small nod. "Briefly. She sent me a message yesterday to let me know she was still safe at Demi's and to tell me I was dead to her."
Zed grimaced. "She needs a solid dose of truth to pull her head out of her ass." It was an old argument where Zed felt like Seph needed to be told the whole sordid story of the real Timberwolves and why I'd eventually murdered our father and his whole loyal inner circle.
I snapped a sharp glare at him. "She needs nothing of the sort," I growled. "Leave her be. Ignorance is bliss; leave her that much."
Zed just grunted, and I knew he was far from in agreement with me. But he wouldn't directly disobey. Not over this.
Irritated, I climbed out of the car without waiting for him to turn it off and started into the house without another word, but Zed called out after me, nonetheless.
"Dinner will be ready at seven, Dare."
I just flipped him off over my shoulder and continued inside ahead of him and Lucas both. My shoulders ached, my head was throbbing, and my heart hurt. I wanted nothing more than to get back to my room, so I increased my pace until I was just a step off running and all but crashed through my door.
Only after I closed it and turned the lock did I feel like I could really breathe again. Like the tense, depressing day was all worth it.
4
A strong arm banded around my waist, lifting me slightly off the ground and making me gasp.
"You couldn't have cried even a little bit?"
I melted into the broad, hard frame at my back and gave a soft laugh. "Hell no. I've given you enough of my tears to last a lifetime."
His teeth scraped my neck in a teasing bite. "Damn, Angel. Not even crying at my funeral. Tough crowd."