Zane (The Powers That Be, Book 6) Page 12

  “Two. And, no, I don’t see anything wrong with it.”

  “I didn’t say there was anything wrong with it. I just think it could be kind of awkward. But, Mom? I need you to hear me. Are you listening?”

  “You don’t have to be rude, Jillian.”

  Arrrggghhh! “I’m not being rude, Mother. I need you to hear me, though. Ready?” I heard her let out an irritated sigh. “I’ll date whomever I’m attracted to, all right? I don’t need your help.”

  “But—”

  “No buts, Mom. I don’t need your help, okay?”

  “Laurel has set June seventeenth as her wedding date.”

  “Good.”

  “I’m sure she’ll want you to be a bridesmaid. Or at least help at the reception.”

  I snorted. “Okay, I’ll save the date. I have to go. Tell Dad I said hi.”

  “You’re working at that old record store, aren’t you?”

  Mom didn’t understand that “old records” meant vintage-slash-collector. She thought it meant the store was old and we sold worthless record albums.

  “Yes, I am. And I’ve got some customers, so I need to go.”

  One other thing that happened during the week was Zane continued showing up at my apartment at different times to “check on me” when I wasn’t working then kept insisting that he stay the night, which I thought odd since he knew Rusty had moved out. I also caught him in Rusty’s empty room a couple times and when I’d asked him what he was looking for, he’d just muttered, “Nothing.”

  Saturday was New Year’s Eve and I was excited to meet Zane’s brothers. Well, I’d already met Drake, but I had yet to meet Kase, Blaze, Wilder and Titus.

  I called Izzy that morning to tell her Happy New Year then went that afternoon to use the gift certificate she’d given me for Christmas at the hair salon. Since my hair was already silver on top, I asked Annie, my stylist, to remove the dark blue ombre at the ends, dye them silver also then add lavender and light blue all over. And, oh, my gosh. The results were absolutely gorgeous. I totally loved it and tipped Annie well, as usual, for doing such a great job.

  Back home, since we were going to be outside watching Wilder’s band perform, I decided there was no way I was wearing a cocktail dress.

  Text Message—Sat, Dec 31, 5:17 p.m.

  Me: FYI We’re going casual tonight. I’m not gonna freeze my ass off in a dress

  Text Message—Sat, Dec 31, 5:31 p.m.

  Zane: Casual it is. And nobody does anything to that gorgeous ass but me

  See, that was the gist of it and why I was confused. He’d gone all mannequin when I slipped and said I loved him, but then he’d turn around and be all possessive as if I were his. I honestly didn’t get him.

  In spite of my confusion, I thought I’d done quite well since my gargantuan gaffe, having been chill to the max not letting his non-answer answer bother me. Too much. Yes, I loved him, and yes, I knew he cared for me. And if that’s all it ever came to, although I knew it’d break my heart, I was prepared to let him go. Or so I told myself.

  I dressed for the evening, putting on distressed, holey skinny jeans, a lightweight slouchy black and white horizontal striped sweater, my black leather motorcycle jacket and black stiletto peep toe booties (so my pretty blood-red toenails showed). I was putting on dark red matte lipstick when Zane knocked.

  “Who is it?” I called.

  “Me,” he answered.

  Opening the door, I teased, “Just in time. I’m starving.”

  I went to retrieve my purse from my room and when I turned, he was right there and I let out a yelp.

  “You look fucking hot, babe.” His eyes were all over me, moving from my hair to my feet and back again.

  Leaning in to kiss him, I said, “Thanks. You look pretty hot yourself.” And he did: gray jeans, navy button down untucked, black lace-up boots and his own black, leather motorcycle jacket.

  “I like the hair,” he complimented, hand at the small of my back as we left.

  “Thank you. It was time to make a change,” I said with a shrug as he held the car door for me.

  “Lookin’ like my Syrena again,” he said with a wink and closed my door.

  And didn’t that melt my heart. So sweet.

  ~*~*~*~*~

  We ate at a restaurant—which was packed as expected—but it was within walking distance of Seattle Center. Since Wilder’s band was supposed to go on at ten, around nine-thirty we walked to see if they were set up yet since Zane wanted to say hi and wish him luck.

  “How old is Wilder?” I asked.

  “Your age, just turned twenty-two.”

  “How long’s he had the band?”

  “He’s been in bands since he was fourteen, but he’s been with this one going on two years. They might just have what it takes to make it big, too, I think.”

  Cool!

  We walked through the crowd, Zane holding my hand and pulling me behind him. Fun. Once at the stage, we saw the band doing a sound check and I instantly knew which one Wilder was because he was the spitting image of Zane and Drake: same height, same gorgeous brown eyes, caramel hair, and he carried himself with the same cocky attitude, if not cockier. I learned this was so when Zane introduced us.

  We went to the stage and the minute Wilder saw Zane, he gave him what I’d dubbed the Powers trademark smirk. They exchanged nods then Wilder made his way off the stage and over to us.

  “Hey, bro.” They did the guy hug thing. Then he checked me out. “Who’s this gorgeous creature and why isn’t she with me?” he asked Zane making me blush.

  “This is Jillian and you wanna become a soprano, keep on ogling her.”

  Wilder laughed and shook my hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Jillian. You got a twin sister by any chance?”

  I chuckled. “Sorry, no. But I’m sure you have no problem, just like your brother here, in getting dates.”

  “And she’s sweet too,” Wilder said, still holding my hand.

  Zane grabbed his wrist making him let me go. “Enough, you little prick.” Then they laughed.

  “Just giving you hell as usual.” Wilder looked me over again and let out a whistle. “Dude, she’s so much prettier than Shaylie.”

  Ah. We had a name now: Shaylie of the potted plants.

  I caught Zane cutting his eyes at his little brother who only laughed like the ornery little shit I was figuring out he was.

  “You ever get tired of his boring ass,” he nodded to Zane, “look up my band’s website, Findingwild dot com and leave me a message. Babe, I’ll show you more than a good time.” He winked and I snorted because he was the flirtiest guy I thought I’d ever met. Jeez.

  Zane rolled his eyes. “You heard from Kase, Blaze or Titus? I know Drake said he and Honor are gonna show but I haven’t heard from the others.”

  Just then three Zane clones walked up and I couldn’t help but smile because they were just as handsome as the two Powers men standing with me.

  “Hey, man,” one said, then there were dude hugs and knuckle knocks all around.

  Zane introduced me to his brothers, and I saw right away that they were much tamer than Wilder, whose name fit him perfectly. Kase and Blaze were especially more taciturn, Kase seeming to be the broodier one which reminded me of Zane, and Blaze was polite but a little withdrawn. Then there was Titus who seemed more like Wilder and I figured they were probably closer in age.

  We visited with Wilder for a few more minutes before he went backstage to get ready, and in one form or another each brother told him to “Break a fuckin’ leg,” but, of course, it was said with love.

  As we waited for the band to take the stage, each brother approached and chatted me up, aka interrogated me, screening me to see if I was good enough for Zane. In the midst of my cross-examinations, I found out that Kase was a computer security analyst working at a well-known company downtown and was a year older than Zane; Blaze was a year younger than Zane and an investment banking analyst at a large investment bank but
was on the fast track to becoming an associate; and Titus was the baby, four years younger than Zane and he worked at Drake’s garage as a mechanic, but was in the process of opening a body shop.

  In the midst of my inquisition, Kase and Blaze left to get us drinks from one of the nearby liquor stands.

  “So what do you drive?” Titus asked, and I saw Zane smirk because he knew Titus would have the same reaction Drake did.

  Standing by my convictions and not feeling one bit bad about my choice to save the world in at least one small way, I stated, “A Prius.”

  Sure enough, Titus twisted up his face in distaste and Zane laughed.

  The guys came back with our drinks just as Wilder’s band took the stage—I found out quickly that he was the lead singer with an amazing voice and could also play a mean guitar—and I had to laugh at the entourage of girls that formed in front of the stage screaming their heads off while dancing like strippers trying to get his attention.

  “He must feel like a god!” I yelled to Zane who rolled his eyes in reply.

  Drake and his girlfriend Honor showed up during the band’s second song.

  “I love your hair!” Honor hollered after we’d been introduced.

  “Thank you!” I replied.

  “I’ve been too chicken to try something like that, but I think it’d look great on my friend Krystal!”

  I looked at her gorgeous auburn hair. “You could use temporary hair dye to see if you like it!”

  She smiled and nodded excitedly. “That’s a great idea!”

  “My friend Izzy and I will even do it for you!”

  We exchanged numbers and made plans to have lunch soon when we’d set up a time to do her hair.

  During the concert, which I loved that most of the band’s songs were post grunge, I had so much fun hanging out with Zane, his brothers and Honor. The brothers were all a hoot with their banter and teasing each other, and having another woman to hang out with was awesome.

  When a slow song played, Zane and I danced, and when the song was fast, Titus, Honor and I usually danced. I had a blast.

  At midnight, after the countdown, the band played “Auld Lang Syne” and Zane kissed me breathless as the fireworks went off over the water.

  When the celebration was over, we said goodbye to everyone and walked back to the SUV. And back at my apartment, Zane and I rang in the new year again in my bedroom, making fireworks of our own.

  Chapter 16

  Zane kissed me goodbye the next morning before going home and getting ready for work. I heard him talking to Chet, who’d probably just come in, before he left.

  Since it was a Sunday, I slept in a bit, getting out of bed at nine. Over the next couple hours, I did several loads of laundry, baked a cake and ate some tomato soup for lunch. At one thirty, there was a knock on the door. Looking out the peephole, I saw it was Zane.

  “Did Chet say if Rusty called?” he asked when I opened the door.

  “Chet’s still asleep. And why would Rusty call?” I asked, curious as to why his interest in my ex-roommate had piqued again.

  “Just wondering if he did. Call me if you need me.” He kissed me and was gone.

  He showed up again at three forty-five and yet again at six fifteen, always getting the same results from me: Chet was still asleep and I had no idea if Rusty had contacted him. The last time he’d shown up was at eight when he announced he was staying the night even though I told him Chet had left.

  He seemed so distracted that I was back to thinking I hardly knew him.

  There was one good thing I’d thought of, though. In my first serious relationship in high school, the guy had tried making me change and I’d gotten out of it in a hurry. At least Zane hadn’t tried to make me change.

  Talk about grasping at straws.

  ~*~*~*~*~

  Izzy called the next day to tell me about her New Year’s Eve. She said one of the linebackers and his girlfriend had gotten into a huge fight when they were all outside watching the fireworks on the bi-level dock and that the girlfriend had pushed the guy into the lake.

  “I’ve never heard so many curse words in my life!” she informed. “It was crazy!”

  “Wasn’t the water freezing?” I asked.

  “Yes! I wouldn’t be surprised if the guy got pneumonia. It was terrible, JB. I swear, I’ve never heard the word monkey used in so many obscene ways.”

  I laughed. “But it did make for an interesting night, though, right?”

  “More than. How’d things go with you?”

  I told her about meeting Zane’s brothers and Honor and how much fun I’d had.

  “Good! So you feel that you and Zane are getting closer now?” At my hesitation, she asked, “What?”

  “He’s just so closed off. And he’s so interested in Rusty. It’s weird.”

  “He’s investigating him, right?”

  “Not officially, I don’t think.”

  “Maybe he’s just worried about you being at the apartment alone thinking Rusty might show up?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. He does come by a lot.”

  “See? I think he’s just worried. And maybe he knows you feel more comfortable being at your apartment instead of at his place alone, so that’s why he doesn’t pack you up and make you stay with him,” she said.

  “I guess.”

  ~*~*~*~*~

  I worked Tuesday through Friday at various hours. Saturday night Zane and I went to see a movie and afterward stayed at his place. He didn’t seem as distracted that whole week, and I started to relax more since every time we were together, I grew to know at least something new about him. Sunday, he had a rare day off, so we lazed around his place, ordering Chinese for lunch then watched TV the rest of the day between lovemaking sessions.

  And it was awesome.

  ~*~*~*~*~

  I was working Monday when I got a text from Izzy.

  Text Message—Mon, Jan 9, 2:34 p.m.

  Iz: Got the thing. It’s set. Be there at ten. Talk then

  Me: Why’re you talking like Tonto?

  Iz: Manicure can’t type

  Me: See you tonight, weirdo

  ~*~*~*~*~

  After work, I sat on the couch painting my nails and catching up on Stranger Things when Chet called.

  “Hey, Rusty’s gonna come by, okay? We’re cool and he’ll be cool. He just forgot something in his room, he said.”

  I frowned. “What’d he forget?”

  “That night when someone tried getting in? That was him. He was trying to pick up what he forgot.”

  “Chet, what’d he forget?”

  “He said it’s some gun his dad gave him before he died. It’s like a family heirloom or something. Really old and it doesn’t even shoot anymore. He promised he’d be in and out and wouldn’t be rude to you.”

  “Uh huh. You owe me for this.”

  Rusty knocked around seven. The glare he gave me as he walked toward his room made me let out a psh sound.

  “What was that?” he stopped and asked.

  “I haven’t done anything to you, so I don’t know why you’ve been a colossal dick to me lately,” I answered as I sat back down on the couch.

  Walking back, he leaned down putting a hand against the back of the couch and getting right in my face. “I’m not the one dating a fucking cop!” As if that explained his sudden assholishness. He stood and glowered down at me.

  “What does that even mean?”

  “I told you not to go out with him!”

  “And I’m supposed to do what you say because?”

  He scowled at me for a moment before heading to his room. I heard him kick the box with the present I’d given him in it that I’d set just inside his door, and I wanted to yell, “You’re welcome!” His bedroom door slammed, then twenty minutes later, he came out carrying a plastic pistol case which didn’t look old to me at all, and with not a word, he left.

  ~*~*~*~*~

  At eight I was cutting up an onion for the chi
li I had on the stove when there was another knock, and I was beginning to wonder when my apartment had turned into Grand Central Station.

  Zane was in the peephole when I, uh, peeped into it.

  “Hey,” I said when I opened the door, tiptoeing up and giving him a quick kiss. “How’d your day go?”

  “Not bad,” he replied coming inside. He started telling me about a cold case that one of his partners solved and I had to interrupt him.

  “Hang on, I have to check on the chili.” Assuming he’d followed me, I went into the kitchen where I added the onion and quickly chopped up a green bell pepper, adding it also, saying, “Okay, so he found out that it was the wife who—” I turned but Zane was gone.

  I checked my bedroom but he wasn’t there. He hadn’t left because I’d have heard the front door, I thought. As I walked out of my room, I saw him coming out of Rusty’s room.

  “What’re you doing?” I questioned.

  “Just looking around.”

  “Isn’t that illegal? I mean, don’t you need a warrant or something?”

  He chuckled. “I was just looking around.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “What’s going on?”

  “What’re you making again?” he deflected, as he grabbed my hand and headed back to the living room with me in tow.

  “Chili. Want some?” I asked, dropping his hand and going back to the kitchen.

  I prepared our bowls, he got out the grated cheese and crackers, and as we sat at the bar eating, I asked again why he was in Rusty’s room.

  “I’m trusting you not to say anything, okay?” he asked. At my nod, he continued. “I think Rusty’s involved with some bad people. Theo Antonius? He’s Greek mafia.”

  “Greek mafia? Is there such thing?”

  He nodded. “Yes, but mafia’s become a catch-all term for any crime organization. And I’ve been watching Theo—”

  I frowned. “But when you were talking to Chet the other day, you acted like you didn’t know who this Theo guy was.”

  “I know. I wanted to see what Chet knew, if he was—”