Chapter 20 #2
“You really like her, don’t you?”
Zane shifted his gaze to Stetson. “Yeah, I do.” So why the fuck hadn’t he told her about the missed call? History had proven that secrets did more harm than good.
But fuck, what was he supposed to say? That Monty was planning something? That he’d called from prison? What the hell would any of that achieve other than scaring her?
“You two make a good couple,” Stetson said. “I was only a kid when she dated my cousin, but I still remember thinking that he didn’t treat her well. Then the way my family turned on her after Dean died…I never liked it.”
“I know you’re not like them.”
“Good. I mean, Damien’s not too bad. Maybe a bit of an overachieving prick, but that’s probably because he grew up with money. I like her, by the way.”
“Most people who get to know her do.” He checked his watch. “You can go if you want.”
“Really? I still have half an hour on my shift.”
“Go. Have an early one.”
“This is why you’re my favorite boss.”
His lips twitched. “I’m your only boss.”
Once Stetson was gone, Zane picked up the last of the gloves from the floor and chucked them into the equipment box. He’d just stepped into his office when his phone rang, that unknown number on his cell again.
Something dark curled in his stomach. It was the same number as yesterday. And he knew exactly who it was.
He gritted his teeth before answering. “Hello?”
“You’re receiving a call from Monty Cruz, an inmate at Montana State Prison. This call is subject to monitoring and recording. To accept, press three. To decline, hang up.”
And there it was…the confirmation he hadn’t wanted.
He closed his eyes, ice slipping into his veins. For a moment, he considered hanging up. But there was a reason Monty was trying to reach him. And fuck, he needed to know what it was.
He hit three, his fingers tight around the cell as he pressed it back to his ear.
There was a small pause before Monty spoke. “Hey, cousin.”
The full-body reaction was immediate. The tensing of his muscles. The roaring of blood between his ears. “What the fuck do you want?”
“Aw, I miss you too.”
“Monty.” There was warning in his voice.
“I’m just checking in. How are you doing? You know, with all that freedom you have? All that money you made from the UFC? The money you wouldn’t have made without me? You enjoying your life in Amber Ridge?”
It shouldn’t surprise Zane that Monty knew where he was. The guy had his own money. Resources. Exactly why Zane had been watching his back. Yet it still felt like a kick in the gut. “It’s money I earned in my fights. And freedom I’m entitled to—unlike you. Now what do you really want?”
“Yeah, you’re right. You’ve earned everything you have. And everything still to come. I’m glad you’re happy in your new town…developing new friendships. New relationships.”
A cold weight dropped into his stomach. Did he know about Bonnie? If he knew about Amber Ridge, it wasn’t that big of a stretch.
Every part of him—every fucking fiber—rebelled against the idea.
And he needed Monty to think she wasn’t his.
That she was nothing to him. “There are no relationships in my life. My grandmother’s dead and she was the last woman I’ll ever love.
So whatever you’re getting at, leave it the fuck alone. And don’t call me again.”
He hung up and threw the cell into the wall across the room.
Fuck!
The asshole had already sent a hit man to his house. Zane couldn’t have him targeting Bonnie next.
He turned and slammed his fist into the wall. But it did nothing. The pain didn’t even take the edge off the frustration that trembled and clawed inside him.
He should have killed him. Zane should have picked up the damn gun the night of the party and shot him.
He shut his eyes, the memory hitting him hard.
Where the fuck was he?
Zane moved through the crowd of people, searching for Monty. The house was fucking huge. No one needed a house this big. Yet Monty had still managed to fill it with a million people he didn’t know.
That was his cousin though. He liked to have extravagant things and flaunt the shit out of them.
Monty hadn’t always been like that. There’d been a time when his cousin had been down to earth.
Easy to talk to. But the fame and money had gone to his head.
That seemed to be the UFC world though. If he’d known a few years ago, he might never have gotten involved.
But then, being in the ring felt so damn good that maybe he would have.
He passed a group of fighters, the smell of alcohol and drugs so thick he couldn’t avoid it. There probably wasn’t a single person in this house who wasn’t drunk or stoned apart from him.
Why the hell had he even come tonight?
But he already knew the answer to that—it was Monty’s birthday. His cousin had claimed he needed Zane here, that they were the only family either of them had left.
Yeah, well…now Zane was ready to get the hell out of there.
He could probably just go and send his cousin a text on the way out. But Monty could be a child sometimes.
A woman stopped in front of him, her hands sliding down his chest. “Hey, Zane. I’ve been looking for you.”
He’d never seen the woman before in his life. Random strangers knowing his name was something he’d never get used to.
“Excuse me.” He took the blonde’s hands off his shirt before stepping around her, ignoring her pout.
He’d give the second floor one search, and if he didn’t find his cousin, he was leaving.
He took the stairs two at a time and went straight to Monty’s bedroom.
The door was closed, which probably meant he was with his girlfriend, Sasha.
The two of them were fucking toxic. She was with him for money and notoriety, and he was with her because he liked the way she looked. They did nothing but fight.
That was none of his damn business though.
He knocked on the door.
Silence.
“Monty, you there?” He knocked again. “I’m leaving, man. I just wanted to say goodbye.”
“Zane?”
He frowned. Why was Monty’s voice so strained?
Fuck it. He pushed inside. “Hey, are you—”
He stopped, his stomach dropping at the scene in front of him.
Sasha lay on the floor in the center of the room, only wearing panties, a bullet wound in the center of her chest. And her eyes…they were open and so fucking blank there was no mistaking what he was looking at.
Dead. She was dead.
And the pistol, likely the murder weapon, sat right beside her. Like Monty had shot her, dropped the gun, and stepped back.
Zane looked at Monty, his words almost quiet. “What have you done?”
His cousin’s mouth opened and closed. “I didn’t mean to. She was just being so fucking annoying! You know how she gets. She wouldn’t stop. I just wanted her to shut up!”
“You killed her.” It wasn’t a question.
“It’s okay. I know people who can take care of this.” Monty’s words were rushed now…desperate.
“The fuck are you talking about? We’re calling the police.”
Monty’s eyes widened. “No. They’ll send me away for life, Merrick.”
“You killed her, Monty. You fucking shot her!”
“And I told you why. But I can make this go away.” He pulled out his phone.
“We’re calling the police.”
Monty paused. “Zane…” His voice was different now. The panic was still there, but so was an edge of warning. “You don’t want to do that.”
Now Zane pulled out his phone.
“No,” Monty growled, his gaze shooting to the gun beside the body.
Then he lunged.
Zane was faster, grabbing the pistol and aiming it right at Monty’s chest.
A gasp sounded behind him as someone stepped into the doorway of the room.
Zane blinked, forcing himself back to the present. But he may as well still be back in that room. Because a year had passed, and the asshole was still fucking with him.