Wicked and True (Wicked & Devoted 4)

He nodded. “I can make my last phone call from the road.”

“Go. I’ll lock up behind you.”

The sniper nodded, gathered his keys, and strolled out with the confidence of a man who had everything he wanted in life and his whole future ahead of him.

As Zy followed him out and secured the door behind him, Joaquin rang, demanding he come over to deliver a status update. But when he ended the call and reached his bike, he realized someone had fucking slashed his tires. His money was on the guy who had accosted Tessa yesterday. He’d look at the security footage again, but Zy would bet he’d find next to nothing.

By the time he’d called a tow truck and had his bike hauled to a local shop for new tires, hours had passed, dark had fallen, his stomach was rumbling again, and he was worried as hell about Tessa. She’d started responding to his texts, but only in monosyllables. It wasn’t like her.

Finally, he reached Joaquin’s. After a two-hour grilling, it was late. But he was free of all his other responsibilities, and he didn’t have to give a fuck about anything but Tessa.

At nine p.m. he made it to her place and knocked. It took a few minutes, but eventually she turned on the porch light and answered the door. He was shocked the interior was dark except for the light above the stove. Her hair was askew and she was huddled in an oversized bathrobe, with a red nose and swollen eyes. She looked as if she’d been bawling her eyes out for hours. He wanted to hold and reassure her, but she crossed her arms over her chest—a silent keep out.

Tessa was independent, and Zy knew she was used to working out her own shit, but he was done letting her suffer alone.

He took her tense hands in his. “Baby, talk to me. I know something’s wrong and—”

“It’s a migraine.” She swiped the tears from her cheeks and backed away with a sniffle. “I just need a day or two to myself. But thanks for coming.”

Tessa tried to shut the door in his face. He wasn’t satisfied with her answer and pushed it open again.

“No. I’m going to take care of you and Hallie.” When she opened her mouth to object, Zy shook his head. “I want to. Have you taken anything for your headache?”

“I’ve done all I can,” she whimpered. “It’s not enough.”

Zy frowned at her answer. “Have you eaten? I’ll make you another one of my infamous omelets.”

“I don’t want food. My stomach is too unsettled.”

Her answer sounded more like a cry. Zy scowled. “I know your head hurts, but starving yourself isn’t going to help. You should try something. When was the last time you ate?”

“I had toast for breakfast.”

And nothing since? No wonder she felt like hell. “That’s it. I’m coming in and taking over—”

“No. You can’t,” she screeched as she pushed at him desperately. “You can’t turn on the lights or tell me how to feel or reassure me that everything’s okay. You’re used to playing the hero, running in to save everyone when they need you. This is something you can’t fix. Just go.”

Everything inside Zy told him not to walk out that door. She might not need a hero tonight, but she needed something. Care? Reassurance? Whatever it was, he doubted it had anything to do with a headache. After all, if the pain in her head was excruciating, how was she able to scream without so much as wincing?

“I’m not walking out when you need me. Did someone upset you? Kathleen? Cash? One-Mile?”

“I’m not upset.”

As lies went, that was a whopper. “Baby, you’ve obviously had a rough day. Talk to me. Let me help you.”

“You can’t. Please…”

“If you don’t want me to feed you or even talk to you, I won’t. But you look exhausted.” He tried to wrap her in his arms and cradle her against his chest. “At least let me tuck you in, then I’ll climb in bed beside you. Nothing else. I won’t do anything more than hold you and—”

Tessa burst into tears. “Zy, I can’t. Just…go. Please.”

She wasn’t merely asking to be alone; she was begging him to leave. That was a kick to his goddamn heart. The last thing he wanted to do was walk out on Tessa when she desperately needed a shoulder, but he couldn’t force her to accept his help. And she didn’t fucking want it anyway.

Frustrated as hell, he held up his hands and stepped back. “Okay. If you need anything, it doesn’t matter what time it is. Call me.”

“Thanks.” She wrapped one arm around her middle. With her free hand, she pushed him toward the door. “But I won’t.”

God, she was cutting him off at the balls and it was killing him. Why?