Chapter 20 Zach
Zach
Zach kept his focus locked on the truck as he strode through the darkness. Even working extra hours hadn’t settled his boiling blood. Lauren’s venomous words from days ago and the look on her face had been etched into his mind.
He was stupid to think staying away from her would solve his problems. The woman was a thorn in his side, and no matter how hard he dug at the wound, the sharp point tore at his skin.
He’d heard worse. People had been calling him the worst of the world since he was born, but hearing it from her hit like a wrecking ball.
She’d texted him her apologies. Multiple times. But an apology text couldn’t wipe away what he knew to be true.
“Zach!”
He’d almost made it out. Almost. He’d gone a whole day without having to speak more than a handful of words, and now Travis wanted to chat.
Zach turned just as he reached the borrowed truck. “What?”
Travis jogged over, stopping a few feet away. They’d found an acceptable tolerance of each other over the last few weeks. The key was that they didn’t talk about anything except work. Silent was the way Zach liked things. Why did Travis have to ruin it?
Travis slipped off his cowboy hat and brushed a hand through his unkempt hair. “Are you okay?”
What kind of question was that? “Yeah.”
“I don’t know. You tossed those hay bales like they’d insulted your sister or something.”
That was rich. Travis wanted to know why Zach hated the world today. As if he didn’t despise it every other Thursday.
“I’m great.”
Travis put his hat back on and nodded. “Okay. See you tomorrow.”
Zach gripped the door handle and jerked it with a little extra force just to let it out. “Maybe.”
He settled into the cab and started the truck. He’d tried and failed to push Lauren out of his head all day. Now there was nothing to distract him.
Except the patched leak in the bedroom. He could finally get that fixed.
He swung by the store and picked up the supplies before heading back to the rental house.
When the job was completed, Zach propped his hands on his hips and looked around.
There was no way he was staying here all night to pout about Lauren.
He needed something strong and painful to take his mind off things. He needed whiskey and a pack of cigarettes. Something to make him burn. Something to punish him and make him sorry he’d ever met her.
Zach stomped to the front door, grabbing the truck keys and a coat on the way out. The cold night bit at the exposed skin of his neck, and he welcomed the discomfort. He wanted every little thing that could take his mind off Lauren.
He started the truck and let the hum of the engine surround him. Who did she think she was? Little Miss Perfect wasn’t so perfect when it came to the unconditional love she preached.
Why was she so invested in his life anyway?
She’d be much better off if they cut ties completely.
In fact, why did she care about her cousin, Anthony?
She hadn’t mentioned him since the day Zach got out of prison, but if she’d waited that long to bring it up to him, there was a good chance it was still on her mind.
It was laughable, really. What did she think she could do? Find a man who didn’t want to be found? Who cared if they were related? Anthony wasn’t a saint, and Zach would bet his next paycheck that Anthony didn’t care about Lauren or her noble cause to save the world.
Zach stilled as he shifted into reverse. What if she thought she could fix both him and Anthony with her persistence? Her methods weren’t working on Zach. Maybe she’d take that as a sign to quit.
The weeks he’d spent with Lauren hadn’t changed anything. All of her hopes and effort had been for nothing. He’d let her down just like everybody else.
The headlights shone on the path leading to the old warehouse. He really needed to show his face more often now that he was in charge. So far, he’d been able to handle business remotely, but too long of an absence would make the guys forget who the top dog really was these days.
He parked beside an old, black Chevy truck. There were no identifiable markings on it, and it wasn’t a vehicle he’d seen. Two other cars were parked on the side of the building with a garage door they used for loading and unloading cargo.
Zach pulled the pistol from the console and slid it into the holster wrapped around his ankle. He’d have to check the cameras tonight before he left. He wanted to know every coming and going.
The harsh fluorescent lights stung his eyes as he entered. The main room was empty, but the door to the storeroom was open.
“Stop at Nate’s place in Laramie tomorrow morning. He owes me $50,000 for the last run. Put it in the lock box.”
That was a voice he recognized. Jake Holston stood beside a wooden crate, talking to a kid that couldn’t have been over eighteen.
“Well, isn’t this a nice surprise,” Zach said as he stepped into the room.
Jake turned with a hand already resting on the gun at his waist. The hard lines of his face faded when he spotted Zach. “My favorite Wilson brother. Out of the slammer.”
Zach extended a hand and kept his expression neutral. “It would have been nice to get a heads-up.”
Jake shook the hand then propped one elbow against the crate.
“Surprise.” His mouth tugged up on one side.
The scar running through the left side of his face stretched tight over his lips.
The last three years hadn’t changed the man at all.
His black curls still stuck out from the bottom of the faded gray ball cap on his head, and his bushy brows cast a shadow over dark eyes.
He had the look of a friendly, down-to-earth guy, but Jake’s looks were a carefully crafted deception.
“You didn’t think to call me?” Zach asked, moving one step closer and mirroring Jake’s stance. He had a couple of inches on the guy, and he’d use that and his seniority to his advantage.
Okay, and he’d use his unpredictability too if he had to. This was the first and only time he wanted to have this conversation.
“I figured I’d run into you here. No harm, brother.” Jake slapped Zach on the shoulder. “Loosen up.”
Zach gave the guy a single nod. It was always better if problems could be squashed with words, but he’d give this one a few runs before he made a call on Jake.
“Good. And that cash comes to me first.” Zach pointed to the grunt wrapping guns in padding before loading them into metal containers that could slip into convenient and hidden places in the cars. “Got it?”
The young guy nodded so hard his head could have bobbed off his neck. “Yes, sir.”
Zach leaned in to whisper to Jake. “Did we check this guy before we let him in?”
Jake winked and flashed that boyish grin that fooled everyone except Zach. “He’s my cousin. If he runs his mouth, he knows I’ll turn him into a pile of ash.”
Zach squeezed Jake’s shoulder. “I know you would.”
Jake slapped a hand down on the crate. “I almost forgot. I brought something for you.” He rummaged in a droopy backpack leaned against the wall. “Here it is.”
Jake lifted a handle of whiskey as he stood. It was the good stuff, if the label could be trusted. “For you, boss. We have to celebrate. Some of the guys are already on their way.”
Zach accepted the gift, noting the seal wasn’t broken. Jake had really gone all out. The weight in his hands was as familiar as breathing. He’d walked around with a handle of whiskey more nights than not in his twenties.
Drugs had been easy to come by in prison—much easier than on the outside—but Zach’s taste was geared toward a burning liquid that had the magic ability to make sure he didn’t care about any of the responsibilities that had been strapped to his back.
The familiar rap at the metal door said some of the others were arriving, but Zach couldn’t rip his attention from the dark liquid that filled the bottle.
He could forget about Lauren. He could find somewhere else to live and quit the job at Silver Falls Ranch.
A high-paying position was waiting for him right here.
It just came with a ticking time bomb that he knew would eventually blow up in his face without warning.
Those were things he could think about later. Tonight, he could forget about Lauren and be the devil she hated.