Chapter 13 Zach
Zach
Zach stared at the old warehouse shining in his headlight beams. The gray tin was rusted and bent, and leaves were piled high around the perimeter.
If there weren’t three other trucks parked in the clearing and wisps of smoke coming out of the barrel by the side door, anyone would have assumed it was abandoned.
He didn’t have to go in, but he kind of did. Lauren acted like he could just ignore his old life and start a new one, but the guys knew he was out. The only reason someone didn’t show up when they were free again was because they’d snitched.
He wasn’t a rat, but he was having second thoughts about walking back inside his old hangout. One step was all it took, and he’d be locked in for the rest of his life. Or, at least until his next extended stay in the little house of horrors.
He lowered his head until his forehead hit the steering wheel. He couldn’t get the image of Lauren out of his head, and surprisingly, it wasn’t seared into his brain because she’d been wearing nothing but a towel.
It was the fear in her eyes—not just a look of surprise, but one that made it pretty clear she’d been contemplating fight or flight.
Every muscle in her body had tightened up like a ratchet strap, and he’d done that to her.
He’d kindled that terror inside her. That was who he was.
How many times had she cried because of him?
How many nights had he stolen her sleep?
He gripped the wheel the way he wanted to strangle his own neck. She’d never feel safe around him, not after what he’d done.
The fact that he wanted her to feel safe around him was a problem in itself.
He was getting attached. For the first time, he was torn between honor and truth.
His loyalty had been unwavering until Lauren came along.
Why’d she have to mess with his head? Why couldn’t she just hate him like everyone else?
He grabbed his coat and got out of the truck.
He had to get back to business as usual.
He was letting his walls down and getting too relaxed in a world where he didn’t belong.
It was time to pump the brakes and do a U-turn.
He was meant to hang out in a rundown warehouse, and none of Lauren’s flowery words could change that.
Trudging through the dark to the door, he scanned every direction. They’d always had game cameras outside, but who was checking them these days? Had they moved any of them?
Most importantly, who was in charge now?
If it was someone he knew, he could make plenty of money running guns like he used to, but paying his way out of periodic jail terms took a huge cut of it.
Just as he’d reached the door, a shiver ran down his spine. So what if the job at the ranch was growing on him? He could let off plenty of steam, and they’d stopped trying to chitchat with him over a week ago.
But it wouldn’t be enough. He’d miss the rush he only found here. Was anything worth doing if it wasn’t dangerous? Besides, when had the high road ever been an option for him?
The metal door creaked, alerting anyone inside to his arrival. Every eye in the room locked on him as he closed the door behind him. The place was so quiet, you could have heard a squirrel whisper.
It wasn’t any surprise to see the usuals around the table. There wasn’t a “head” at a round table, but everyone knew it was the seat closest to the back door—the one Nick currently occupied as if he was born to wear a crown.
Nick? Of all the guys with a hand in the business, Nick was not the one Zach would have ever chosen to lead.
And the look on Nick’s face? Yeah, Zach would be haunting this guy’s nightmares too. They’d had their disagreements over the years, and only one of them always came out on top.
The flash of fear on Nick’s face disappeared as he leaned back in his chair. “Well, it looks like the prodigal son is back.”
Zach slipped his hands into his pockets, thankful he’d made a stop on the way over. It was one thing to walk back into the den. It was another to walk back without a plan.
Not a single person moved, but he cataloged every face.
Some he knew, and some he didn’t, but he didn’t need introductions.
Everyone knew who he was, and that was all that mattered.
He made a big show of sauntering across the room, casually looking everywhere, but actually taking it all in.
Not a single person even twitched, and he got a good look at all the faces.
He didn’t care about a single one of them, and he certainly didn’t trust them. The only way to survive was to keep a tight leash on information that could be used against you in a court of law or sold to your enemies.
Because of that, no one really knew Zach Wilson, and he’d keep it that way.
The inside of the warehouse was as cold as the outside, and the rooms on each side were probably full of gun parts and ammo ready to be shipped off to who knows where. Not much had changed in three years, but he was about to shake things up.
There were plenty of people he’d worked with for years, but there had always been a divide between him and the others.
Bobby had only been at the top for a few months before his stupid plan to abduct Lauren backfired on them.
Rome was the oldest of the brothers, but he was always off on his own, getting caught up in things that eventually landed him six feet under.
Zach took his time approaching the table before stopping just in front of Nick. The kid might have grown hair on his face in the last three years, but there wasn’t a chance he’d matured more than that. He still had the defiant glint in his eye that had caught him a few punches in the past.
Zach leaned down, resting one hand on the cards lying face down in front of Nick and the other on the back of the chair.
To his credit, Nick didn’t budge. His bushy brow lowered the smallest fraction of an inch as Zach stared him down—giving him the chance to fold on his own.
When Nick didn’t cave, Zach lifted the two cards from the table and grinned. “Seven-two off-suit.” He turned back to Nick and slapped a hand on his shoulder. “Looks like you lose, buddy.”
Nick’s tense jaw moved from one side to the other—the muscles bulging as his nostrils flared. His words were even and calm as he said, “It’s not polite to ruin a friendly game of cards.”
Zach leaned down again until he loomed over the guy. If Nick didn’t get smart soon, things might get ugly.
With an even tone and the “friendliest” smile he could muster, Zach said the one thing that could either make him a king or get him killed.
“I’m not polite, and you’re in my seat.”