Stalked (Predators MC 4)

“I wouldn’t…” Stump started to warn the brother, but it was too late.

“What the fuck is that?”

Stump grimaced in sympathy. “It’s hibiscus tea. And before you say anything else, Zoey’s rates have gone up. She charges twenty for cuss words.”

Jackal took his wallet out and laid three twenties down on the desk before turning back to his wife. “Why in the fuck are you drinking that shit?”

“I like it.”

Stump gave Penni credit for making the lie sound believable in front of Zoey.

“Count yourself lucky, brother. At least you didn’t taste the muffins she made and brought to the office today. All three of them are in the bottom of the trash can.”

Penni used her teacup to hide her burning face at Zoey’s reproachful gaze.

“You should have saved them for Max. He can eat anything.” Ice used the toe of his boot to nudge the trash can as if debating whether to save them from the dumpster.

Stump shook his head. “There are some things a man doesn’t need to discover, and chia seeds are one of them.”

“Stump, get in here!”

“What! I’m trying to plug my television….”

He came to a stop when he saw what Zoey was rummaging through. He meant to tell her about the box of letters before he moved in, but he planned to put it off until tomorrow, knowing it was going to make her cry. He hadn’t wanted anything to spoil their first day of living together by bringing up her past.

Zoey looked at him with a wounded expression. “How do you have the letters I wrote to my mother?”

He squatted down next to her, gathering the letters back into a loose pile. “I told you that I had your father checked out. These are what I found.”

“She never received them?”

“No, your father kept them in a basket. A friend of mine was able to retrieve them from your caseworker. The letters they sent out were also returned. The occupant kept sending them back.”

“She didn’t even bother to read them?”

Stump never wanted to see her cry, but anything would be better than the heartbreaking numbness that was totally out of character for Zoey.

“My friend investigated the occupant. He was an eighty-year-old man who had never been married. Your father gave you the wrong address.”

“He lied to me again?”

“Yes.”

Zoey took the letters from him, placing them back in the box. “I’ll never be able to find her now. It’s not like I can ask him. And even if he were alive, he wasn’t capable of telling the truth.”

“There’s another way. I was waiting to tell you when I told you about the letters tomorrow.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He felt heat rising in his cheeks. “It’s hard for me to watch you cry. I didn’t want anything to spoil today.” He scooted closer to her, seeing her battling back the glossy sheen of tears in her eyes.

“I’m not going to cry.”

“It’s okay. Go ahead.”

She bravely shook her head. “I’m not going to cry. What’s the other way?”

“A DNA test.” He got up from the floor, going to another box. Taking out a smaller box, he brought it back to Zoey, sitting back down beside her. “My friend has contacts in this company that works for the government. The test will find relatives that are within their system. It’s one of the largest databases in the world. If she’s there, we’ll find her.”

“I don’t know if I can bear to be disappointed again. Maybe she doesn’t want to be found.”

“That’s not why you’re afraid to find out. You don’t want to find out she’s dead.”

She took the box from him. “I’ll do it tonight.”

He stood up, pulling her to her feet. “Let’s do it now. Then we can put it in the mailbox before the postman comes. It will be our first package we mail together as a couple.”

Going into the bathroom, they took the DNA swab, and then they walked out to the mailbox together, with Hannibal under his arm.

“Morning, Zoey, Stump,” Creed greeted as he jogged past them.

“Good morning, Kent.”

“All moved in?”

“Yes.” Placing an arm around Zoey’s shoulder, Stump pulled her close to his side, letting Hannibal down to do his business. “Once I get settled in, we’ll invite you over to dinner,” he invited magnanimously. “You can invite a girlfriend to bring along. Wait. Sorry, I forgot you don’t have one.”

“Stump!”

It was worth the elbow Zoey planted into his ribs to one-up Creed.

“I have a date tonight.” Creed gave him a retaliatory glance as he started to jog away. “I’m meeting Zoey’s designer friend for dinner. I have high hopes.”

“Kent… it’s a consultation, not a date…,” Zoey began, but Creed was already jogging away, not letting her finish.

“He’s going to be disappointed.”

“Why? Is your friend ugly?” Stump took the poop bag out of his bag pocket, narrowly missing the elbow aimed at him.