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“Oakley wants to work tonight.”
Zade scoffs. “You’re fucking kidding, right?” he says, amusement flashing in his eyes.
“I told her you weren’t gonna like it, but she insisted I at least ask.”
His stare hardens as if reading into the conversation, realizing there’s more. “Let me guess, she made some bullshit petty threat to go along with—” he cuts himself off, his brows furrowed as he sniffs the air before giving me a hard stare. “Really man? On my fucking couch?”
I shrug my shoulders. “It’s not like I planned it.”
“Fucking hell,” he mutters. “Ever since you assholes have been spending so much time here with her, there’s been DNA spread from one end of my penthouse to the next.”
I can’t help the satisfied grin that tears across my face. If he knew just how fucking good it is with her, he’d be kicking himself for not taking her sooner. “What do I tell her, man? Her shift starts at five.”
“I don’t know. You’ve still got a fucking hole in your shoulder from the last time we were out by those apartments. Not to mention, the last time she was at Danny’s Bar, she slipped out the back door. I can’t have that shit happening again.”
“I doubt she’s stupid enough to try it again.”
“You clearly haven’t been paying attention,” he tells me. “Her one goal is to save herself and screw me over in the process. If she sees an opportunity to run, she’s gonna fucking take it.”
“Then put a tracker on her,” I tell him, knowing damn well it’s something he’s already considered. “Besides, Venom’s close to shedding and she’s most comfortable in her enclosure back in those shitty apartments. I can take Oakley and wait while she works.”
“No. If she really insists on spending her last days working, then we’ll all go,” he says with a heavy sigh, the very last words I expected to hear from him.
“Yeah?” I question, almost certain I didn’t hear him right. The Zade I know would have told her to get fucked and to shove her shift up her ass, and I realize just how right I was last night. Oakley has gotten under Zade’s skin. The fucktard is just too blinded by his ritual that he can’t see what’s right in front of his goddamn face.
Zade looks away, almost as shocked by his response as I am. “Yeah,” he tells me, and with that, he walks away, leaving me wondering how the fuck this new dynamic is going to play out.
Chapter 15
OAKLEY
My shoulder barges against the door of my small, shitty apartment, and I plow through the doorway to find Cara hovering in the living room, her eyes wide. She looks as though she’s about ready to fuck me up, probably assuming I’m some kind of serial killer. But no, that would be the guys at my back, not me.
“Oakley?” she gapes, blinking rapidly as if not believing what she’s actually seeing. She races toward me and pulls me into a tight hug, gripping my shoulder before yanking me back to give me a hard stare. “Where the fuck have you been? I’ve been worried sick about you. I mean, shit, girl. If you’re going to go on a week-long bender, the least you could do is invite me to come along.”
“Sorry,” I laugh. “It’s a long story.”
“Well luckily for you, I have a lot of free time.”
I swallow hard, not sure why I wasn’t expecting her to welcome the long explanation. Most people shy away from comments like that, not in the least interested in hearing the ins and outs of other people’s lives.
I fumble over what to say when she’s distracted by the four brooding assholes pushing their way through our apartment. “Umm . . . What the fuck?” she demands, gaping at the boys making their way down the hall, barging into every room and sweeping them, checking for any assassins who might possibly be hiding under my bed. Her eyes widen further seeing the state of Zade’s face, undeniable horror and concern flashing through her eyes before she quickly masks it.
“Hey,” she calls after them as I cringe, trying to work out how the hell I’m going to explain this one. They each ignore her, and for a moment, I wonder if they even heard her. “Hey, assholes,” she says more firmly. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? You can’t just barge your way into my apartment uninvited. Fuck off out of here.”
Dalton strides past her, and as he catches her eye the awkwardness washes over her, reminding me of the conversation about their weird sexual encounter. I can’t blame her for being awkward. I would be too. But I’m sure if she knew about his newfound donut kinks, she wouldn’t feel so bad.
Deciding he’s done with his part of the sweep, Dalton drops onto the couch and scoops up the TV remote before exiting out of the movie Cara was watching. Though, let’s be honest, the movie was probably nothing but background noise. I can almost guarantee that she was reading instead, and just to prove a point, I scan through the living room and find her Kindle lit up on the coffee table.
