He’d never imagined the entire ceiling lifted out of place. No trap door, a trap ceiling. But how had Dev hoisted himself up that high without being heard? Cash had a hard time reaching the edge and wouldn’t have been able to use the tips of his fingers to lift himself that high.
“To the right,” Dev said, as if reading his thoughts.
Cash used his tiptoes and placed his hand there. A handy ladder descended without much of a sound. The string of curse words running through his head made his blinding anger a little more bearable.
It was always going to be just like this where Dev was concerned. The reason for his damned nightmares. Dev constantly played with life until it was going to end in his death.
“So you snuck out while I was sleeping? I’m a light sleeper,” Cash said, leaving the ceiling ajar and the stairs hanging. He stepped out of the shower.
Dev mashed his lips together and nodded. At least they were past the snide lies.
What was he missing? They’d eaten together earlier in the day, a late afternoon meal. That was becoming their normal routine. He’d followed Dev to Fort Worth and waited on the street as he spent time with his children. They came home, forwent dinner to spend the rest of the evening and night in Dev’s bedroom…
“The beer you gave me had the cap off,” Cash remembered suddenly, his gaze moving to Dev’s.
Dev nodded like a proud parent. One finger touched the tip of his nose, the other pointing at him. “I’m datin’ a goddamn Perry Mason. Way to piece that shit together. See? You have the answers. You don’t need me.”
“You drugged me?” Cash asked incredulously.
Dev shook his head, as if that was the craziest conclusion. “Calm down. I didn’t roofie you if that’s what you’re thinkin’. I only helped you relax.” He lifted his hands to stress the point. “You’re so wound up all the time. Like a tickin’ fuckin’ time bomb. You drank a little, you fucked out your tension, and you went to sleep. Why’re we still talkin’ about this? I’m starvin’. Let’s eat.”
Dev left him standing there, heading toward the kitchen. “Shit, it’s cold in here.”
Like Cash had done about once a day since taking on this case, he thought about forcing Dev and his children into witness protection. After Cash made a case against the Disciples and/or the local Dallas DEA field office, he could go search them out.
“Tell me the missing parts,” Cash barked, following slowly behind.
Dev glanced over at the camera in his living room then cut his gaze back to Cash.
Understanding what Dev meant, Cash gave a cutting motion to his neck, indicating to Joe to kill the feed. The green light flashed red. His attention focused back on Dev. He needed every detail, and he needed it now.
“You’re bein’ dramatic,” Dev said, looking over at him as he opened the refrigerator door. “Had I not texted Keyes, you wouldn’t know it was me.”
“How did you text without your phone?”
“I have an old iPhone. The very first model ever made. It’s somehow still linked to my cell number. I don’t know how but it allows me to send and receive text messages. Sometimes when I power it up, all my text messages pop in, but what I send from that phone doesn’t ever come to my current cell phone. Make sense?”
Cash ignored Dev’s question, knowing he had a limited window of honesty before Dev shut down again. “How did the local news get the story on the DA?”
“All me. I did that.” Dev nodded and dropped his head low into the refrigerator. “I’m tired of that bitch DA gettin’ by with bein’ such a fucker,” Dev explained. He came back up with his hands full of eggs, bacon, and the tofu scramble, then kicked the refrigerator door closed.
“Why tonight? What’s the reason for your timing?” he finally asked.
The weight of defeat had Cash’s shoulders slumping. Dev was a constant challenge. One upping him over and over. He was afraid he was never going to be able to outpace Dev.
And he was exhausted. Physically and emotionally struggling to think properly.
“Honestly? The weather. But I planned for all this to happen pretty quickly. Here’s the truth. I need to keep the club occupied. Get their minds focused in a direction,” Dev said, placing the load of groceries on the countertop. Dev turned back to Cash, his ass hit the edge of the counter, his arms crossed over his chest. “You’re takin’ my safety too far. You’re comin’ on too strong. Once my old man gets that you’re not gonna fuck him, he’s gonna get suspicious about why you’re hangin’ around so much.”
“What?” Cash asked. He’d only done what he had to do.
“Somewhere, somebody’s gonna see us. Some person I don’t know about is bein’ paid to watch out for the club. They’re gonna know somethin’ about you and put suspicion into my old man’s head. If not that, eventually my old man’s gonna figure it out. Shit’s goin’ too smooth for the club. If you’re gonna keep goin’ everywhere with me, I need to create some lingerin’ chaos for him to have to deal with. Cummings’s death was a several day plan by the majority of the club. Everybody was occupied and eager, tryin’ to figure out their part. Now that bitch DA will be on the defensive by mornin’. She’s not goin’ down alone. My old man’s gonna be knee deep in her shit for a while.”
Cash nodded. Dev wasn’t wrong. He saw the logic. “All right. That all seems reasonable enough. Why did you have to go behind my back? I’ve been nothing but honest and supportive with you, and you promised no more lies. We’re supposed to be a team.”
Dev rolled his eyes and turned away, reaching for a skillet. “What’s that dream you been havin’, secret agent man?”
“That has nothing to do with this case,” Cash defended, except Dev’s recurring violent death may be exactly what his biker had working against him.
