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 this blazing torch for her for months…and she’d already snuffed out her flame for him and moved the fuck on.
Still, he couldn’t let it go. Zy leaned into her personal space, so close he could see the glossy pout of her bottom lip and smell a hint of her perfume. He almost tasted the minty tea she’d been drinking earlier. Goddamn it, she was right in front of him, and he wanted to touch her so fucking badly that he hadn’t thought about anyone else in months. He sometimes woke in a sweat at night, craving her with an ache he was beginning to fear he’d never sate.
And she was living with the ex who’d gotten her pregnant and left.
Well, fuck.
Zy tugged his keys out of his pocket. “You’re right. You don’t owe me a damn thing. You two lovebirds have a great weekend. I’m out.”
Trees walked in the middle of the deplaning crowd toward the baggage claim. Zy knew his buddy instantly because he stood a head taller than everyone else. He also looked stressed, exhausted, and a terrible shade of green.
His escape in Mexico must have been more harrowing than the bosses had led the rest of the team to believe.
“Hey, man.” Zy gave him a bro-hug, fucking relieved to have his buddy back. “You made it.”
“It was close.” Trees slung his duffel on his shoulder. “But yeah. Then I spent a worthless day at the hospital being poked and pumped full of fluids after puking up whatever drugs they slipped me at the restaurant. And Walker is still back there, suffering. I should never have left him.”
Trees was as loyal as he was towering. It was one of the reasons Zy had clashed with his buddy in the first place. Where he came from, it was every man for himself. He hadn’t understood Trees’s steadfast nature until basic had almost ended. And thank God they’d formed a bond then, or he would never have survived the hell they’d endured next.
“If you hadn’t, you and One-Mile would both be prisoners, and we would have no clue where to find either of you.”
“I tell myself that…but all I can see is Walker in my rearview mirror being held down by thugs as they slammed his head into the asphalt.”
Zy tried not to grimace. With every hour that ticked by, it seemed less likely that they’d ever find the snarky sniper alive. But they had to look. And they had to hope. If they didn’t, Trees was so distraught he might lose his shit. “Sorry. It’s been all hands on deck since we heard what happened.”
“Still nothing?”
“Nope. This all your luggage?” Zy gestured to the duffel.
“Yeah.” Trees scowled his way as they headed to the parking lot in the waning afternoon sun. “You look about as shitty as I feel. What’s wrong?”
Jesus, Zy didn’t want to talk about it. Hell, he didn’t even want to think about it. And he felt like a stupid shit for caring. While One-Mile was either dead or dying, Zy had been fixated on the fact Tessa was making the biggest mistake of her life—and stabbing him in the heart.