Ruthless (18 page)

“Do you have any kids?”

She burst out laughing. “Did you hear the part where I said my longest relationship was in elementary school?”

“So?”

“No, I don't have any kids. Much to my mother's dismay. Do you really think I'd have time to be your booty call if I did? Or that there wouldn't be some evidence of my phantom children around here somewhere?”

“I guess not.” Zag turned his head away and nestled into his pillow. Still, he couldn't help but be warmed by the sound of her laughter. It was so damn cute.

Maybe this whole sharing thing wasn't so overrated after all.

S
EPTEMBER 1

L
ABOR
D
AY

I was looking forward to tonight's Labor Day celebration with a bit of trepidation. Especially since it was being held at Zag's house, making me the de facto hostess. At least I had my experience from the Fourth of July barbecue to fall back on. I knew most of the people coming over, and I hoped there would be a few friendly faces in the crowd.

So, like a responsible adult, I was hiding in the kitchen.

Someone had to organize the pizza and plates and napkins. Although given the fact that we hadn't ordered the pizza yet, there were only so many times I could shuffle the plates and napkins around. I knew I had a problem when I found myself arranging the beer in the fridge by alphabetical order. But it kept me pseudo busy and avoid-y of the tension between me and Zag.

It was almost like he was ashamed of having been vulnerable in front of me, even if it had been in the dark. The next day, he couldn't meet my eyes and ducked out of my house at the first opportunity.

I tried to show him that we hadn't suddenly entered some secret relationship level where everything was super serious. You could've fit an elephant between us on the couch the last time we watched a Giants game together. And then there was the next time I told him I was meeting up with my friends. It was as though just mentioning their names brought him back to that moment. I could've sworn that he visibly flinched.

Or maybe it was all in
my
head. Maybe I was the one looking for small clues that he was on the defensive. I'd been hoping that that night would be the beginning of something more, but if anything it'd sent us back a few steps, to where the only place we could communicate was in bed. Or the shower. Or that one time on the kitchen table. Because Zag seemed to only ever be comfortable with me when our clothes were off and our mouths were busily occupied elsewhere. Or maybe we were fine and I was looking for trouble where there was none.

Hell, I was starting to get a headache trying to figure it out.

“Jessica! There you are, sweetheart. How have you been?”

Brittany's sultry voice had me jerking upright and bashing my head against the top of the fridge in the process. I clutched my throbbing head as I turned to my new friend. I hadn't seen her since the Fourth of July picnic, but we'd spent so much time together that night, I felt like I could still count her as a friend.

“Hey, Brittany. I'm good. Um, how are you?”

“Ah, sweetheart, if that's how you classify ‘good,' our scales are hugely different. You really okay? You're not bleeding, are you?”

I laughed weakly. “No, really. I'm good. Nothing a beer won't cure.” I reached back into the still-open fridge and grabbed a brew. “Can I get you one?”

“Nope, I'm the DD tonight.”

“How about a soda, then?”

“Only if you give me one of those full-sugar no-diet ones.”

I smiled and tossed her one, then popped the top on my beer.

“So how are things going with Zag?”

Was it written all over my face? I shrugged a shoulder while I took a pull from my beer.

Brittany waited with raised eyebrows.

Knowing that she wasn't going to let it pass without a real answer, I swallowed the beer in my mouth. “It's…I dunno. He's a hard man to get to know. He keeps everything pretty close to his vest.”

“Yeah, most of these guys are like that. Sometimes you gotta pry 'em open with the jaws of life.”

Feeling like I finally had a kindred spirit—someone who knew exactly what I was going through—I spilled more to her than I would've otherwise. “And when he does open up, he gets all weird for the next day or week after. Like now, because I know what I know, it'll change things between us or I'll use it against him. How sad is that?”

Brittany shrugged. “Not really. I mean, if you think of the kinda childhood he had, it's not surprising that he's more guarded than most.”

I had no idea what she was talking about. The thought made me feel small. After three months of dating, I should know more about Zag. A woman who hadn't even dated him knew more about him than I did.

“How do you know about his childhood? He doesn't open up to just anyone.” I tried to pass off the air that I knew what she was talking about. I was afraid if I showed my ignorance she'd clam up in loyalty to Zag. After all,
he
should be the one to tell me this sort of thing.

But apparently I misstepped, as she gave me a confused look.

“He came to live with me and Stitch after Rhonda kicked him out.”

Rhonda kicked him out? Reb's Rhonda? Wow. That explained at least some of the tension I gleaned between him and Rhonda during the last club barbecue. Well, mostly on her side. Zag had been unflinchingly polite to her, but I had still gathered he wasn't her biggest fan.

Before I could formulate a response that didn't make me sound like a clueless imbecile, a kid came tearing through the kitchen.

“Whoa, hold up there, partner. Where's the fire?” Dear God, I had somehow morphed into my father.

“Zag said I could get a soda.” He batted his ridiculously long eyelashes at me and I just melted.

I spun around and grabbed another soda out of the fridge before I could blink. “Here you go.”

“Thanks, lady!” He took the soda from me and sprinted out the back door.

I smiled at Brittany. “Wow, that was…I thought this was an adults-only party. At least that's what Zag said.”

“That was Tucker,” Brittany replied, referring to the seven-year-old who had just whirled through the kitchen.

“And that means…”

“Reb and Rhonda's son. You should know by now the rules don't apply to Rhonda.” She tossed a look over her shoulder toward the living room as though she was afraid of being overheard.

“To be honest, I haven't spent much time with her. I could tell Zag didn't get along with her, so he kinda steered us clear of her for the most part.”

“Yeah, well, after the way all that went down between them, I'm not surprised. It got pretty ugly.”

“Really? Zag sort of glossed over that bit.”

“There's no love lost between those two. I don't think I need to tell you what I think about her.” Brittany widened her eyes and tilted her head before continuing. “But in the end, it worked out. Zag spent a couple months with us and got to see what a functioning family looks like. He'd be a good father, I think.”

I choked on my beer. “Kids are the last thing on my mind right now. Crap, you're starting to sound like my mom.”

Brittany chuckled. “That's where you're going wrong. Don't think of them as kids. They're babies first—cute, cuddly, cooing babies.”

“Screaming, pooping, sleepless babies, you mean,” I retorted.

“Yeah, but you tend to forget that part. And they are worth it. Every minute of the sleepless nights, scraped knees, and talking back is worth it when your child smiles at you. And Zag would be a great dad. You should've seen him with my babies. He spent ages trying to get them to laugh and cuddling them when he thought no one was looking. He's a real sweetheart.”

It sounded lovely, but also the last thing I was ready for at the moment. Maybe after we got rid of the lunatic attacking me at work. And a few years. Plus five more.

So I tried to distract her. “How many babies do you have?”

“Two. We have a nineteen-year-old and a seventeen-year-old.”

“Those are some old babies.”

“Yup.”

“You must've been a baby yourself when you had them.”

Brittany laughed. “You're sweet, but I'm staring down the barrel of forty. So I was twenty with the first. Twenty-two with the second.”

“I'm twenty-eight. What does that make me?”

“Overdue! So you and Zag should get at it!”

“Are you sure you haven't been talking to my mom?” Although, since my mom wasn't aware of Zag, I had my doubts.

Brittany just laughed. “Think about it. Now come on, let's go see what trouble the boys are getting up to.”

I rolled my eyes but still followed her into the living room, where we found our guys huddled near the couches—standing, not sitting. Most held a beer, a few had highball glasses, and a couple took drags off of cigarettes. On the far side of the room, near the front door, Reb and Rhonda were involved in a very heated conversation that everyone else acted like they couldn't hear.

After weaving through the crowd, I stopped next to Zag and lightly clinked my bottle against his glass. “You throw one hell of a party.”

Zag cocked a brow. “I aim to please.” He turned to Brittany. “Thanks for dragging my lady out of the kitchen. I was getting ready to send in a search party after her.”

“Hardy har har.” I took a pull from my beer and ignored Zag's teasing gaze. After getting the baby treatment from Brittany, I really wasn't in the mood for any more jabs tonight.

“Ah, come on, princess.” Zag threw his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. His lips passed over my ear before moving south to my neck. “Lighten up. It's a party.”

I shivered as his goatee brushed against my skin while his lips and tongue teased me. Being on display while Zag aroused me was unnerving, and yet I didn't try to stop him. If anything, I leaned into him. Between the beer and Zag's touch, I'd developed a buzz.

Conversation continued around us like nothing outside of normal was going on.

Zag's lips trailed up my neck and he blew hotly into my ear. I let out a slight moan as I burrowed closer. But when his hands wandered toward my breast, I put the kibosh on his little sex show.

Pulling away from Zag, I gave him a glare. “Not gonna happen.”

He just shrugged and sent me a twinkling smile. “Can't blame a guy for trying.”

Damn, why did he have to be so ridiculously cute? Before I could gather myself and rebuke him further, a masculine roar filled the air.

“That's bullshit and you know it!”

Immediately, the tone of the room shifted. Where it'd been raucous and bawdy before, everyone was totally silent now.

Except for the corner where Reb and Rhonda were yelling at each other.

Reb's face was beet red as he stared at his wife. “I'm tired of putting up with your shit. Find somewhere else to sleep tonight. We're through.”

“You can't fucking kick me out. It's half my house. I'll sleep there if I damn well want to. You owe me, motherfucker.”

“Look at the deed, you frigid bitch. It belongs to the club. You've got no part of it. But you better believe Tucker and I will be sleeping there tonight. I couldn't give a damn where you go.”

Rhonda ripped open the front door, her whole body trembling with a combination of rage and humiliation. She took one last look around the room but found no sympathetic friends in the crowd. I wouldn't be surprised if she'd screwed over most of the people there in one way or another.

“Yeah, well, you can have the little brat. Let me know when you figure out who his father is, because it sure as fuck isn't you.”

With that parting shot, Rhonda slammed the door so hard it bounced against the frame and swung back open.

Everyone in the room froze. I'd never seen anything like that in my life—outside of reality TV of course. Was Reb really not Tucker's father or did Rhonda just say that to score a point before she left?

“Shit.” Zag shoved his drink at me and started off toward the kitchen.

I swung around just in time to see Tucker drop his soda and run out the back door. Zag was quick on his heels.

“Fuck.” Reb tore out of the room after them.

I stood there awkwardly, still holding two drinks, and watched through the open front door as Rhonda tore off down the road. I didn't even know what to say. But then Brittany broke the silence.

“About damn time.”

“What?” I looked at her in horror. “Did you not see what just happened?”

Brittany shook her head. “I don't mean Rhonda's horrible lie about Tucker. I meant Reb kicking that bitch out of his life. He should've done it years ago. There's just no point in staying together for any kid. Especially with a bitch like that.”

I had to agree with her. If she was that toxic in public, I couldn't imagine what life at home was like for them.

“Do you think we should go after them?”

I turned at Brittany's question. “No, I think we should give them space…” I trailed off as I noticed a woman I hadn't seen before standing in the open front door.

She was a rail-thin brunette who looked like she'd seen some miles. Her skin was sallow, her cheeks were sunken, and her hair hadn't seen a brush in quite some time. She shifted from foot to foot while she tugged on the cuffs of her long-sleeved shirt. Given that it was still warm, her wardrobe choice was a little strange.

I put my drink and Zag's down on an end table, then walked toward the front door. But before I closed the distance, Bobby came into the living room from down the hall and stopped in front of the door.

“Ma? What are you doing here?”

“Bobby? Oh baby, there you are. I need…” She looked at me as I came to a stop next to Bobby. “Is there some place private we can talk?”

Bobby jerked a shoulder. “Yeah, come on. We'll just go—”

“And talk right here.” Zag stepped up behind us and put his hand on my shoulder.

Bobby ducked his head. “Zag, I got this.”

“I know. But you're good right here.” Zag pulled back on my shoulder until he was slightly in front of me, as if he were afraid something was going to happen and wanted to shield me.

The lady looked between the two men and gave a huff of indignation. “Fine. Bobby, baby, I need some help. Johnny left and rent's due. I just—I don't have it. Please, baby.”