Chapter 39 Zach
Zach
Dawson held up a skimpy black vest in front of Lauren. “You’re all set. There’s a tracking device sewn in, and another one in your shoe.”
Zach stood with his arms crossed, hyperaware of the tracking devices in his own pants leg and boot.
He was officially a traitor. A traitor to the cause that used to hold his allegiance. Now, he could see it for what it was—a trap. More of a cage than the prison he’d been in for three years.
Learning about the God that Lauren trusted was a slow climb up a snowy hill, but things he’d never noticed before were coming into a new perspective.
It was almost as if he could see more. He was thinking outside of the box, or maybe he was just thinking outside of himself.
To be honest, he’d lived a selfish life until recently.
Now that he had access to a lot of the intel and equipment the authorities had, the lines were clearly drawn, and he’d once been on the losing side. These guys had a file on him thicker than War and Peace. They could have had him at any point in time, and he’d been too cocky to see it.
Lauren slid her arms into the vest, leaving it open in the front. It did nothing to cover all the exposed skin. Thankfully, she reached for her coat and layered it over the vest and the top Hadley had called a bustier.
She picked up a set of jingling car keys from the table by the door and smiled at Zach. “Ready?”
No. He was not ready to go. He wanted to stay right here long enough that vines would grow over his boots. He wanted to hit his knees and beg Lauren to reconsider all of this.
But he’d made a promise to stand beside her.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Lauren wrapped her arms around Hadley and kissed her cheek. “You have everything you need for Sunday?”
Hadley chuckled. “Yes, the kids are going to love me as their Sunday School substitute. In case you haven’t checked with my employer lately, I’m a professional horseplayer.”
“I know they love you. I’m just going to miss them,” Lauren said.
Wasn’t this just the icing on the cake? Lauren was going to miss teaching her Sunday School class because she was running off to go undercover with the dregs of society. None of it made sense.
Dawson slapped a hand on Zach’s shoulder. For once, he didn’t flinch at the contact. “You ready for this?”
“I’m thinking about calling in sick,” Zach confessed.
“Too late. I think your ride is here.”
“Government-issued vehicle?” Zach asked.
“Nothing but the best. We can trace it, we can tell how fast you’re going, and we can blow it up if you decide to go rogue.”
Zach tilted his head to the side. “Isn’t that a little dramatic?”
“I’m kidding. Stay safe, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Dawson warned, looking from Zach to Lauren.
Lauren clicked her tongue behind her teeth. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to be kissing Zach on this trip, so you can expect that piece of advice to be thrown out the window.”
Dawson looked at Zach and scrunched up his nose. “Eww.”
A minute later, Zach and Lauren were in the car and on their way to Winchester.
They talked about what to expect at the party and over the rest of the weekend as they drove, but the preparation didn’t calm Zach’s nerves at all.
If anything, it highlighted all the ways they could screw up or get caught.
They made a stop by the hotel and dropped off their bags. Lauren pushed open the door to the room and lifted her bag onto one of the beds. She did a slow turn in the open space and propped her hands on her hips. “This is it.”
Zach put his bag beside hers and wrapped her in his arms. He wanted to be as close to her as possible. Every worry about the things that could come between them was fresh in his mind. “They said we could get two rooms.”
“That’s silly. There are two beds, and I don’t think you’re going to attack me during the night. We stayed together during the storm,” she reminded him.
True. Lauren had strict values when it came to sex before marriage, and despite his past, Zach was beginning to understand. She had a way of explaining her morals to him that made them perfectly clear. If she wanted abstinence, that’s what they would do.
None of that meant it was easy to keep his hands off her. The temptation was always in his face, but Lauren’s words snapped him to his senses. He was gaining a conscience, and it was overwhelming and terrifying at the same time.
Zach breathed in the smell of her hair, and the urge to stay locked away in the room with her was enough to distract him from everything. He pressed a kiss to her head and stepped back. “We need to go. I’d like to get this over with.”
It was pitch dark when they parked in front of the house. The place seemed normal from the outside, but Zach knew every inch of the interior. They’d studied blueprints and photos of the place all week, and he had a clear idea of the exits in every room.
The property Eric Cross owned spanned thousands of acres, and there were other houses and buildings on site.
None of them were locations he used for smuggler stops.
This area was all for show. The unassuming house where the party would take place was near the road, but Eric’s residence was hidden half a mile into the woods and more lavish than anything Zach had ever seen.
The man had a way of making it look like he made an honest living.
Everything was professionally landscaped, and the fleet of cars that filled his multi-level garage were on the high end but not the top one percent of foreign luxury.
Eric lived a comfortable life just below the radar.
He’d done what all of them wished they could do—take the money and escape the consequences.
Zach parked the car beside all the others and turned to Lauren. “You have your mic?”
She patted her chest. “Safely tucked into my bra.”
“And your weapon?”
Lauren patted her hip, but even in the dim moonlight he could see the sour look on her face. It was only a switchblade because she wasn’t wearing enough clothes to hide a pistol.
Zach reached for the holster at his side, making sure his weapon was secure too. If anyone was using force tonight, it would be him.
“Are you ready for this?” he asked, silently praying she’d back out.
“I’m ready.”
Okay then. Without anything else to stall him, he got out and rounded the car to Lauren’s side. He opened her door and when she took his hand he pulled her to his chest and covered her mouth with his in a searing kiss.
“We stay together,” he said, leaving no room for discussion.
“Stay together.” She bundled her coat around her to ward off the biting cold. “And you’ll tell me what to do if it looks like I don’t know what’s going on? I’ve never been to anything like this before.”
Zach leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, softer this time. Kissing Lauren was like jumping out of a plane but knowing you had a parachute. Even in the darkest times, she had a way of making him feel like he was finally home. “Just pretend to be my girlfriend.”
“I am your girlfriend.”
“Right. So stay with me.” Resting his forehead against hers, he took a deep, calming breath of the icy air. “I’m right beside you. The only thing you have to do is remember what you see and hear.”
“I can do that,” she whispered through a shiver.
Zach wrapped an arm around her as they walked to the door. “Act like you belong here. Have confidence, but remember that women are meant to be seen and not heard in this space.”
Lauren sniffed. “That sounds lovely. I can see why so many women hang out here.”
“No, you don’t, and it’s better that way. Most of these women could benefit from your counseling.”
He opened the door without knocking, and the muffled music rushed at them. The overhead lights were off, but dim, colored lights cast pitch black shadows over everything. Bodies crowded together in the main room, fueling the smell of alcohol and sweat that clogged his nose.
“It’s so loud,” Lauren shouted against his ear. “How are we going to communicate?”
Zach leaned down until his lips brushed the shell of her ear. “Get close.”
Keeping their hands linked, Lauren pressed against his side, wrapping around his arm to stay as close as possible. People moved out of his way when they noticed him. They’d always done that. Whether it was his size or his expression, everyone scattered when they caught sight of him.
He’d just lifted his chin when a woman wearing only a pink bra and a short skirt dragged her hand over his chest. Grabbing her wrist and removing it, he pushed around her and into the crowd.
A few other women purposefully touched him as they moved, and it took everything he had not to jerk away.
Touch used to be painful. A kick. A punch.
The knuckles of a grown man’s hand landing on his cheek.
When he grew up, he used touch to inflict that same pain on others.
But when Lauren touched him, it was healing. It was peace, even in the most overwhelming places. With his fingers woven with hers, he could breathe again.
When they made it to the bar, he handed a cup to Lauren and took one for himself. With his cheek against hers he said, “Don’t drink it. Just pretend.”
Lauren lowered her nose to the cup, and a brief scowl crossed her features before it disappeared.
When they’d moved to an open spot on one side of the room, Lauren pressed her lips to his ear. “These women are very affectionate.”
He brushed a hand over her jaw and whispered back, “Great observation, but you don’t have anything to worry about.”
“Should I be running my hands all over you?” she asked with a giggle.
He scanned the room, but his attention was pulled toward Lauren. “I wouldn’t stop you if you did.”
Her hand brushed over his chest, and she leaned in to whisper, “Eric is standing by the TV.”
Sure enough, the man they’d been looking for was listening to a guy who couldn’t have been older than twenty.
These parties were a way to gather a bunch of people who didn’t have anything to live for—people who were disposable.
Eric could pick and choose which ones he wanted to bring into the business.
“Eric isn’t interested in whatever that man’s saying. He’s bored and irritated,” Lauren whispered.
Zach glanced at her, then back at Eric. “How do you know?”
“His jaw is tense, and he’s swapped his stance twice. I don’t know him well enough to tell, but he might be on the verge of cutting the guy off. Do you know who he’s talking to?”
“Never seen him before.”
“Maybe he’d appreciate it if you cut in and saved him.”
The words were barely out of her mouth before Zach caught sight of the familiar face heading their way. He gently nudged Lauren behind him, dropping her hand in the process. “Ben.”
“Zach Wilson.” The man reached out and slapped a hand on Zach’s shoulder. “Long time.”
Yeah. Not long enough. Ben was a floater.
He went wherever there was a need, and there was something about him that piqued Zach’s senses.
It was tough to look at these people now and reconcile that they were never his friends and now he’d placed himself as an enemy.
He’d chosen to stand against them. That meant one day he could be testifying in their trials and putting a big red target on his back.
Every word Ben said was sharp. Cuss word after cuss word. Zach was hyperaware of Lauren behind him and the things she would hear tonight. These men could put sailors to shame, and Zach had once been among them.
Tonight, he had to turn it on again. Anything less than his old self would tip them off. Gage had been right. Reverting back to his old ways in front of Lauren had him walking a fine line. The things he would have said before tasted sour now.
As soon as Ben walked away, Zach turned around to face Lauren. “Can we go now?”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, scratching her fingernails into his hair as she whispered, “He’s talking to someone else now.”
He couldn’t turn around and look without making it obvious. Instead, he shifted to the side and leaned down to press a kiss on Lauren’s neck. “What are they doing?”
“He looks frustrated. The guy he’s talking to looks to be about forty years old. He has a short beard and is probably just under six feet tall.”
Zach slid his lips over her neck as he tried to visualize who she was describing. “What color hair?”
“Dark. Almost black.” Her voice was breathy as she added, “Zach, I’m going to lose my focus if you keep doing that.”
He chuckled and pressed a quick kiss to her temple before turning and picking up their cups from a nearby shelf. “Let’s go get a refill. I’ll get a look at who he’s talking to, and you let me know when it’s a good time to cut in and introduce myself.”
Lauren wrapped her hands around his arm as he risked a quick glance at Eric. His steps faltered when he caught sight of the familiar man.
“Shoot.”
“What?” she whispered.
“That’s Nick.”
“The one you booted out of the top spot in Blackwater when you got out of prison?” she asked.
“Yeah.” If Nick was here, that wasn’t a good sign. Had he met Eric before today? Were they both invited to the party at the same time for a reason? And why hadn’t Nick told Zach where he was going? This was something they should have discussed.
They’d walked three steps before Zach put their drinks down on a table and changed course. “We’re breaking in.”
“What? Now?” Lauren asked in a high-pitched whisper.
“Now.” He couldn’t tiptoe around while Nick was here talking to Eric. Someone needed to remember who was in charge.
Stopping a few feet away from Eric and Nick, Zach turned to Lauren. “Stand right here and listen to everything.”
She nodded vigorously before giving him a little shove toward the conversation he was about to ambush. This was why they’d come, and he had to do everything he could to make Eric think they were on the same team.