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Hell, Mackays hadn’t had enough time to get there.
Doogan was beginning to think Zoey’s life was far too exciting, even for him.
Ducking into the unused guest room, he slid into the large closet, removed the mission clothes, and grabbed his jeans, grimacing at the hard blows to the metal door he could still hear through the listening device.
Jerking the denim over his hips, he headed quickly back.
“Son of a bitch!” Zoey cursed as the sound of movement in her room assured Doogan the pounding at the door had finally woken her. “Billy Ray? I’ll kill your ass!”
She was definitely awake.
Moving to the door but keeping it closed for the moment, Doogan let a smile tip his lips. At least her life wasn’t boring . . .
FOURTEEN
Stomping to the front door, Zoey was ready to rip Billy Ray’s head off his shoulders and shove it up his ass. Or at least make him
feel as though she had. Until she flipped on the security monitor and glimpsed the man actually pounding on the door while Billy Ray yelled at her again. Why the hell was Jack there?
Sliding the inside bolt free and keying in the security code, Zoey threw the door open.
“Jack.” She frowned up at the hard, tattooed all-around bad boy fiercely. “What the hell are you pounding on my door at three in the morning for?”
“Sorry, Zoey.” Jack frowned. “Had to make sure you were okay, sweetie. Can we come in?”
It was too early for any of this to make sense.
“You can.” She shot Billy a glare. “He can keep his ass outside for all the trouble he’s caused me tonight.”
Billy rolled his gray eyes at her, though concern filled his expression. “I didn’t do a damned thing, Zoey; you always think the worst.”
“Because you usually do the worst,” she snapped as Jack moved around her, striding into the apartment. “And what are y’all doing in my house at this time of the morning?”
Turning, she moved quickly along the short hall when she realized Billy’s stepbrother had disappeared.
Gripping the front of her knee-length robe, Zoey looked around the living area and, not seeing him, swung on Billy.
“Where did he go?” she demanded suspiciously.
Billy shrugged, frowning. “Probably checking the garage or something. Dammit, Zoey, we got problems here.”
“Dammit, Billy, you are a problem here, and evidently so is Jack.” Dammit, Doogan’s truck was in the garage.
“Zoey, it wasn’t me that tried to run you down tonight.” Billy stepped quickly in front of her, his expression creased in concern. “Listen to me, someone stole my truck and it’s been sitting in the store lot across the road, facing your place. Someone used my truck to try to hurt you.”
It hadn’t been Billy? She stared up at him, feeling shock rolling through her.
“It wasn’t you?” she whispered. “You weren’t just trying to play one of your stupid pranks?” Fear tightened in her belly.
“Dammit, Zoey, I wouldn’t do that to you,” he protested, his expression darkening painfully. “You know I wouldn’t do that to you. Elijah saw the truck when he drove by earlier and called me. Jack called Natches to let him know we thought someone was watching your place. That’s when Natches threatened to rip my dick off and shove it down my throat for trying to run you over earlier.” A shadow of remorse flickered in his gaze. “Zoey, girl, you know I wouldn’t even act like I was going to hurt you. You should have known that wasn’t me. Come on.” His voice lowered. “We’re friends, Zoey. I’d fight for you if I even suspected who did that.”
It wasn’t Billy? He hadn’t pulled out behind her and nearly run over the ass end of her car?
For a moment, shadows whirled through her mind and pain lashed at her senses, nearly stealing her breath.
“Get out of my house.” She could barely breathe enough to force the words past her lips. She had to get them away from her. Get Billy out before panic set in.
Turning, she moved to rush across the room to the metal staircase she assumed Jack would have used, when Billy gripped her arm and pulled her around.
