“I’m sorry, Teresa,” I say genuinely, my hand over my heart. It only earns me another eye roll.
“Call me Mama T.”
I grin, pleased that I’ve been accepted. I told Jay—the ladies love me.
If the Basilisk Brotherhood didn’t respect Teresa, they would’ve kicked the door down to get to me. Instead, they rush inside, the four of them nearly tripping on each other to get in.
Teresa is already waiting at the door, hands raised in a calming gesture.
“Now, calm down, boys. He’s not here to hurt me.”
Slade grips her by her arms and spins her around, assuming to check for injuries. She twists out of his grip and swats at him.
“Stop it, I’m fine. I can take care of my damn self.”
Ryker's eyes immediately find mine, his pursuit never pausing for even a moment. He rushes toward me, but before he can make it another step, Teresa grabs him by the arm.
His head whips around to her in shock, and she glares at him.
“Are ya fucking deaf, or am I a mute now? What did I say? He ain’t here to hurt me, so calm down.”
Ryker faces me again, a mixture of anger and bewilderment on his face.
I take a bite of my chocolate chip cookie and give him a close-lipped smile while I chew.
These cookies are fucking delicious.
“Who the fuck are you?” Ryker barks while the other three flank him. Chests puffed, chins notched high, and hands ready to pull out their firearms.
Teresa rolls her eyes and mutters beneath her breath, storming out from behind them to sit in her chair with an irritated huff.
Boys will be boys.
Slowly, I stand, wiping the crumbs from my hands on my jeans.
“Z,” is my only response and Ryker’s brow quirks.
“Z,” he echoes dryly as if he doesn’t believe me.
“That’s what I said.”
“Like the Z?” Daire clarifies. Two tiny diamond dermals are pierced above a thick black brow, glinting as he arches it on his forehead.
“Yes,” I say. Introductions are so tedious when very few have actually seen my face. Anyone could claim to be me, but all of them would fail when it came time to prove it.
Slade snorts, rolling his dark eyes, which make an interesting contrast to the waves of dirty blond hair falling into them.
The only one who doesn’t have much to say is Kace, who stands back and observes me closely. If I were a lesser man, it’d make me uncomfortable.
“Let’s say I give a shit that you’re Z—why are you here and in Teresa’s house?”
“Well, to get to you, of course. Excuse my impolite methods, however, time is of the essence,” I answer, flashing a grin. Ryker snarls in response.
Touchy.
“Does Dr. Garrison ring any bells?”
A collective silence ensues for a few moments, and then Daire chuckles. “That was you, wasn’t it? That set him and his place on fire?”
“Sure was. I happened across some intriguing footage with Ryker’s face on it. Intriguing enough for me to investigate, and it’s like Jesus himself handed me a gift. Word on the street is that you’re all very particular… tradesmen. And I have a current need for that.”
Ryker glances at Teresa, who’s staring up at us with complete boredom on her face.
Sensing Ryker’s need for secrecy, she waves her hand. “Leave. It’s my nap time.”
He glances at me before walking to an end table next to Teresa’s chair and snatching a crumpled receipt and pen. She grumbles when he starts scribbling on it but doesn’t stop him.
Straightening, he hands the slip of paper to me. “You caught us in the middle of something. Meet us at this address in four hours. Don’t be late. Now get out.”
I arch a brow when I spot hemorrhoid cream on the receipt but quickly decide it’s not my business what’s growing on Teresa’s ass.
“I’ll be early,” I say. “Bye, Mama T.”
“Good luck,” she calls. I wave a hand in acknowledgment before opening and shutting the front door behind me.
I don’t need luck, just the help of four men, who are probably going to be enough pains in my ass that I’ll need the hemorrhoid cream next.
Chapter 14
The Diamond
That’s such a good girl, little mouse. Open that pretty mouth and taste me…
You’ve been naughty, mouse. You like it when I punish you, don’t you?
I could eat you for days, and it would never be enough…
Fuck, baby, I’m so fucking addicted…
I jolt awake, and for one beautiful second, I thought I was back in Parsons Manor with Zade. Images of mismatched eyes and a wicked smirk clog my headspace, but the sudden movement lances sharp needles of pain throughout my skull. The memories dissipate, Zade’s deep tenor fading as the dull throb that radiates from between my legs feels like a curse that was cast by an evil witch—a curse that won’t let me forget.