Chapter 19
Nineteen
Mercy
The instant I turn the key in Zeke’s door lock, he calls through it: “Come in, ladies. Don’t mind the mess.”
I stroll in with Raven at my flank and Tawny at the rear.
Zeke is sprawled on his cot, boots up, hands folded behind his head, as if the mattress is a Texas hotel suite and not six inches of monastic-issue punishment.
Despite his casual demeanor, the dark circles under his eyes and a crumpled, slept-in fan club T-shirt reveal he’s just as frazzled as Wesley was.
I’m not surprised, really. His history with Leila goes back to their childhood.
A duffel bag by the desk is open, revealing a gun-cleaning kit. No gun.
Shit.
Zeke grins, flashing white teeth. “Morning, boss.”
I turn to the girls. “Did anyone bother to confiscate his weapons?”
Blank looks.
“His phone?”
“Um.” Tawny has the decency to look guilty. “I was … hungry.”
“We’re all hungry!” I snap. Groan. Shake my head.
This is going from bad to worse. Anyone would think we’re amateurs.
“Don’t feel bad,” Zeke drawls, “I have that effect on people.” He waggles his brows. “Especially the ladies.”
Raven cuts to the chase. “Drop the act, cowboy. What’s your angle?”
He stretches, cracking one shoulder, then the other. “Don’t got one. Unless you count Leila.” He grins. “She has a nice angle. One I take advantage of—”
I hold up my palm, cutting him off. “We know.”
Tawny huffs. “And that’s … not an answer.”
He winks at her. “It’s the only answer I got, blondie.”
I cross to his desk and scan for notes, letters, a dirty magazine—anything to catch him off guard.
Nothing. Just a stack of ammo clips and a dog-eared comic book.
He won’t shoot us. He’s too afraid of what Leila will do if he does.
The gun is probably tucked away somewhere because it’s his baby, and he’s terrified I’ll confiscate it.
Zeke and Wesley aren’t the main concern in Team Saint, but we still need to do our due diligence.
“Let’s get serious.” I perch on his desk, arms crossed. “Tell us something the Vatican’s hiding. Some secret off-book operation, a honeypot, a murder list.”
He whistles, low. “You want gossip, you’re askin’ the wrong guy. Wesley’s your bookworm. I’m just firepower.” He flicks his gaze to Tawny. “You want to know about bullets, I’m your man.”
Tawny, bless her, tries to look fierce. “You’re really not scared? You do get we’re here to interrogate you, not ask for your autograph?”
He sits up, spreads his hands. “Darlin,’ I’ve been grilled by people a helluva lot meaner than you. You seem kinda nice.”
Raven narrows her eyes. “You don’t care at all that half your teammates are locked up, and the other half might be plotting your demise?”
“Who’s plotting my demise?” he jokes. “Cisco?” His face suddenly grows serious, and he sits up, looking at me. “Is this because of the all-you-can-eat buffet thing? Dude needs to get over it.” Then, under his breath, “Needs to get laid more.”
I glare. “Seriously? You have nothing on your priest? The saint? Any dirt at all?”
He finally seems to consider and rubs his jaw scruff. “Cisco’s a closed book.” He scoffs. “Honestly, now that I think about it, I’m starting to wonder if there’s another reason he’s avoiding the free pass to the buffet.” He gestures at me. “I mean, just look at you. Should be a no-brainer.”
“Um. Thanks?”
“As for Dom?” He frowns. “He’s nice. Quiet. Strong as shit.” He pauses. “He likes playing Sudoku. That’s weird, right?”
“So you admit it.” Raven paces alongside the bed, hands behind her back. “He’s a traitor.”
“I never said that.”
“If you had to bet who was the traitor, then who would you pick?”
He grins, leaning back again. “I don’t bet, doll. I shoot. But if you’re asking for my money…” He hesitates. “I’d say look at the people who kill first, ask questions later. Anyway, what’s all this about a traitor? I thought we were answering questions about Spain.”
“We are,” I reply.
“So … the traitor is who?”
“You know what we mean,” Raven growls.
“Wait…” Zeke squints at us like a pirate and gestures between us. “Is this the scary, chaos act tactic Leila told me about? Am I supposed to be scared?”
Tawny folds her arms and tries to loom over him. “Would it work if I threatened you?”
He bursts out laughing. “Okay. Sure.”
She puffs up, frustrated, and points. “You weren’t always on Team Saint. You were a hired gun, weren’t you?”
He shrugs. “Still am, technically. The Vatican just pays better. And for the record? I didn’t know a damn thing about any of those other Team Saints before this crazy gig. They like keeping us separate. It makes it easier to control the narrative.”
Zeke shows zero sign of nerves. He could be talking about football scores. The disheveled, exhausted vibe about him is probably all about being separated from his girl. Maybe he’s just antsy for a fuck.
Raven lowers her voice. “What about the slaughter in Spain? Any whispers about that? Anything you’ll regret not telling us on day one?”
For a heartbeat, he looks almost serious. “The only thing I regret is not being there to smoke out the assholes who hurt those girls. But as I said, nobody tells me anything worth hiding.” He pauses, raises a brow at me. “What about you, Mercy? Got any good dirt on your Sinners?”
I stare him down. “Don’t waste my time, Zeke.”
He salutes. “You got it, boss. If I hear a whisper, you’ll be first in line. But I’m not lying. I’m here for Leila. That’s it.”
Tawny stares at him. “So zero loyalty to your team?”
He has the decency to look guilty. And when he glances down at his Team Sinner shirt, a blush deepens on his cheeks.
“Shit. It looks like that, doesn’t it?” Lifting his gaze, he winces.
“Do they think that? They’re like brothers to me, you know.
I don’t want them to think I don’t—ah, fuck.
” He sits up, swings his legs over the edge of the cot, and scrubs his hands through his messy hair.
Finally, he looks at me and says, “You don’t think that’s why they’re not—” He gestures between us three girls. “You know, hittin’ that.”
“I don’t know what rock you crawled out from, Zeke.” I gesture at my body. “But you don’t ‘hit’ this. You worship it.”
“Hell yeah, you do.” He winks at me and offers me a high five. “See? You get it.” He looks genuinely puzzled when I leave him hanging.
“Thanks for nothing.” I motion for my squad to leave. “You’re free to go, Zeke.”
“Okey-dokey. Just gonna finish this.” He drops back on the bed and picks up a comic as if nothing happened.
Out in the hall, I exhale hard. “Bastard’s immune.”
Tawny mutters, “You didn’t do the lie detector thing.”
“Was there any point?” I raise my brows at Raven.
“He’s one of the easiest to read dudes I’ve ever met.” She shrugs. “And he’s an open book. Honest as fuck.”
“Two left,” I mumble, scratching my thigh. I’m having second thoughts about leaving my cilices behind.
“What’s the plan?” Tawny asks me.
“Maybe one of you should take point this time,” I suggest. “Try something different.”
Raven nods. “Leave it to me.”