CHAPTER 30 #2
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Brax,” I whispered, my eyes taking a moment to adjust to the darkness.
“Zeke?” Brax called out. “Where are you?”
All the lights were off, but I could hear the music coming from the basement.
I closed and locked the door behind me, then motioned Brax toward the stairs. With a nod, Brax led the way.
Every step felt like I was trudging through quicksand. I wasn’t sure what we’d find when we reached the bottom, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
We found Zeke pacing the floor, a fifty-pound dumbbell in each hand.
He had removed his shirt and his shoes, his muscles flexing, sweat coating his skin, as though he’d been working out for hours.
Since it hadn’t been that long since his confrontation with Matt, it meant Zeke was doubling his efforts.
I knew that was his way of dealing with stress.
He didn’t drink or smoke like some people.
Instead, he abused his muscles with endless hours of working out.
“Zeke?” Brax repeated. “Can we talk?”
Those black eyes shot over toward us, but there was absolutely no emotion in them.
The light was completely gone. It wasn’t until that moment that I realized how much Zeke had changed over the past month we’d spent with him.
While he’d never struck me as the angry type, there had always been something missing.
A lack of interest, maybe. But the more time we were with him, the more he seemed to change.
I wanted that man back.
“Nothing to talk about,” he grumbled as he placed the weights back on the rack.
Brax moved over to the radio and turned it down.
“Why’d you leave?” Brax questioned.
Zeke frowned as he glared back at him. “Why’re you asking so many damn questions?”
“Because I’m worried,” Brax replied, sounding as though he expected a perfectly rational conversation to result from this.
Zeke didn’t look rational right now. He looked … hurt.
“About what?” Zeke barked a laugh, but it was laced with venom, not humor.
“Did you get an earful from Matt? Did he tell you how the big, bad Sadist was actually a pussy because he’d gone and fallen in love with him four years ago?
Did he tell you he walked out on me because I wanted something more?
Because I’d been a fool and I told him I fucking loved him? ”
Actually, no. Matt hadn’t shared that much because I’d taken offense to his comments.
“No,” Brax explained, “but Trent and I managed to keep Case from killing him if that makes you feel better.”
Zeke’s hands were vibrating, his eyes cold. “It doesn’t make me feel better.”
“How long were you with him?” the brave man at my side questioned.
I couldn’t believe Brax was interrogating Zeke. In all the time we’d been here, neither of us had asked as many questions as he had in the past three minutes.
“Does it matter? Is there a certain amount of time before I’m allowed to—” Zeke waved his hand.
“It doesn’t fucking matter, and it’s none of your damn business,” Zeke shouted as he gripped his head and turned away.
“I think it’s time the two of you left. Tonight you can stay in one of the guest rooms, but I’ll need you both gone tomorrow. ”
I felt a strange ache in my chest. It was similar to the way I felt when Brax had doubts about our relationship. The thought of not seeing Zeke again, not spending time with him in any capacity, made my stomach churn. Why were we being punished because Matt was a dickhead?
“No,” Brax snapped. “We’re not leaving.”
Zeke spun around and stalked toward us, his hands fisted at his sides. “You care to repeat that, fuck toy?”
“I said no.” Brax’s words were as rigid as his body. “We’re not leaving you, Zeke. You can push us away, but it’s not gonna work.”
Zeke reached for Brax first, his hand coming around his throat. I thought for a second he was going to strangle him, but he wasn’t. His other hand was reaching for the key on the chain around his neck, which meant Zeke was trying to release the latch on the collar.
Brax jerked out of his hold, knocking his hand away. “You’re not taking my collar.”
In all the time I’d known him, never had I seen Brax as serious as he was right then. When Zeke’s eyes darted my way, I shook my head. “You’re not taking mine, either.”
“Fine. Keep the damn things.” Zeke grabbed the silver chain on his neck—the one he kept the collar keys on—and ripped it off before throwing it at Brax. “But I still want you gone. The contract’s void from this moment forward.”
“No, it’s not,” Brax stated, his voice rising.
“I’m not lettin’ you out of it that easily.
Just because some little shithead comes into a club and thinks he knows every goddamn thing.
No way, Zeke. I don’t give a fuck who he was to you.
I don’t care about your past, the same way you don’t care about mine.
That doesn’t mean I’m willin’ to walk away. That’s not how this works.”
“That’s exactly how it works!” Zeke bellowed. “I don’t have time for your shit anymore, Brax!”
My heart slammed into my ribs the second Brax’s name was out of Zeke’s mouth.
Not once in the entire time we’d known Zeke had he ever called either of us by name.
I’d picked up on that a long time ago. He had no issues referring to the people close to him by name, but everyone else wasn’t allowed that privilege.
A noise from upstairs caught my attention, and I realized it was Tank. He was whining, a pleading sound that I’d never heard before.
Zeke’s eyes widened, and I swore that was fear I saw on his face.
The next thing I knew, Zeke was racing up the stairs while Brax and I ran after him.
Tank was standing by the front door. Another whine followed by a low woof. Then another. Within seconds, Tank was growling and barking ferociously.
When the doorbell rang, I damn near came out of my skin. With all the lights off and the dog going crazy, it scared the shit out of me.
“Tank, heel,” Zeke commanded.
Tank’s ass hit the floor, but he remained where he was, continuing to growl, his eyes forward, tail straight. The dog looked as fierce as his owner.
I prayed there weren’t some unsuspecting trick-or-treaters on the other side of that door. If there was, they were going to get a surprise. Then again, I wasn’t sure which was worse. The growling dog or the growling man.
Zeke jerked the front door open, and you would never fucking guess who was darkening Zeke’s front door.
The very man who obviously was looking for me to kick his ass. After all, why else would he be here?