Seth (Damage Control 3)
“Hey, I…” I stop again when a couple approaches from the street, his hair a dazzling gold, hers a dark counterpoint.
Seth lifts a hand in greeting. “Micah, my man. Ev.”
I recognize them now, too.
“Saw you with Fred at Steep and Brew,” Ev says, nodding at me. “I was waving at you, but you didn’t see us.”
I open my mouth, close it.
“With Fred?” Seth’s voice is flat, kind of breathless. “Today?”
“Looked cozy together,” Micah rumbles, drawing Ev to his side. “He’s your boyfriend, right?”
“Dammit,” Seth mutters, throws his cigarette away and stalks into the shop.
Leaving me to stare at the spot he occupied two seconds ago.
What. The. Hell.
“What’s gotten up his ass?” Micah frowns at the closed door. “That was fucking weird.”
Ev is looking at me, eyes narrowed. “Didn’t know there was something going on between you two.”
Oh God. Seth thinks I’m back together with Fred.
“What you need to know is that there’s nothing going on between me and Fred,” I snap. “We’re just friends.”
She nods at the shop. “Better tell him that, then.”
Yeah. Drawing a long, steadying breath, I march into Damage Control to tell Seth what happened between me and Fred, and how I feel about him.
I expect him to be at the reception desk or in one of the booths, sullenly silent as I explain everything.
What I don’t expect is to find him cornered, with Zane in his face hissing something about a rap sheet and drugs.
Drugs? Oh holy crap.
The blood leaves my head, and I sway a little as I approach them, needing to hear it all, even if I don’t really want to. Even if I’m not sure I’ll be able to hear anything over the deafening sound of my heart breaking to a thousand pieces.
Chapter Nineteen
Seth
“When were you gonna tell me, fucker? About your rap sheet? About the drug charges?” Zane’s voice is a low growl that has my hackles up. “Possession, and possibly trafficking. What the fuck, Seth?”
He’s crowding me in, pushing me into the wall, and I don’t even fucking care because all I can think is that he found out.
How the hell? Why?
“You.” Zane jabs a hard finger into my chest. His teeth are bared. “I let you and Shane into my family. My gang. Let you hang around the clients. Around Tyler and Asher’s kids, dammit. Are you still using? Are you dealing drugs, fucker?”
“Fuck, no. I don’t deal drugs, never—”
He shoves me into the wall, and something in my bad shoulder twists painfully. “Why should I believe you? Once a liar, always a fucking liar.”
“Z-man.” Ocean is tugging on Zane’s hoodie. “Whatcha doing? There are customers.”
“Fuck.” Zane doesn’t move, still in my face. “You should have told me,” he hisses and steps back.