Unattainable (Undeniable, #3)(72)

Cage’s already tense body tightened further. “Yeah, I f*ckin’ knew. And she ain’t in your bed no more.”

ZZ’s grin only grew. “Yeah? She in yours now?”

“Z,” Tegen said, tripping over her jeans as she awkwardly tried to get dressed. “I tried to call you a million times.”

ZZ’s eyes shot to Tegen and he lost his grin. “You tryin’ to tell me somethin’?” he asked darkly.

Cage stepped in front of Tegen before she could answer. “I’m tryin’ to tell you somethin’,” he said. “Don’t f*ckin’ look at her.”

“Shut up, Cage,” Tegen said, pushing out from behind him. Fully dressed, she stepped forward. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “This was not how this was supposed to happen.”

Cage watched as his old friend’s eyes grew hard, cold, and unfocused. “You’re one dumb bitch,” ZZ spat and Cage went rigid. “If you’re thinkin’ he gives two f*cks about you. Fucker is just like his sister and they’re both just like their old man.”

“Don’t bring my sister into this shit,” Cage gritted out.

ZZ laughed coldly. “Your f*ckin’ whore of a sister tossed my ass to the curb like I was week-old garbage she couldn’t get rid of quick enough.

“And you,” he said, turning back to Tegen. “So that’s f*ckin’ it? Me and you, these past years, it meant jack-f*ckin’-shit to you?”

Cage looked to Tegen who was staring openmouthed at ZZ, her shock plain as day. “Z,” she whispered. “I didn’t think…it wasn’t…we weren’t that…”

ZZ smiled bitterly. “Yeah,” he said coldly. “I guess f*ckin’ not. But you are so f*ckin’ wrong if you think this * ain’t gonna put your whorin’ ass on the curb, just like his sister did to me.”

Cage had been feeling sort of bad for the guy, because Danny had done him wrong. But first the f*cker called his sister a whore, then his woman, and not only that he accused him of not really caring about Tegen…

He lost his last shred of self-control. “Get the f*ck out!” he bellowed, reaching for his gun as he stormed forward. He wasn’t going to shoot ZZ, just scare him the f*ck out of here.

“Cage!” Tegen shrieked from behind him.

Cage stumbled backward as searing pain shot through his chest. Another crack and more pain exploded throughout his body. He stared dumbly at ZZ, at the gun still pointed at him as he lost his footing. Then he was staring at the floor as it came rushing up to meet his face and for a moment everything went blurry.

“Cage! Cage! CAGE!”

He blinked furiously, trying to rid the cloudiness that had overcome his vision, and could sort of make out Tegen beside him. He could feel her gripping his arm, trying to roll him over; he could hear her screaming, sobbing, and crying; and off in the distance, he could hear sirens.

They weren’t going to make it in time. He was trying to hang on but warm blood was flooding his mouth, a stark contrast to the freezing cold taking root inside his veins.

“Cage,” she sobbed. “Please wake up, Cage. Please, please, wake up!”

He couldn’t answer her. He tried but nothing happened; nothing was working.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!” she screamed. “No! NO! Fuck! Don’t leave me! FUCK YOU, CAGE! Please don’t leave me, you stupid f*cker! I f*cking love you and you can’t leave me!”

He tried to smile; maybe he did, he didn’t know.

Then everything went dark.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE


“How many times do we have to go over this?” I screamed.

The two police detectives, a man and a woman both dressed in plain clothes, glanced at each other before glancing back down at me.

“Ms. Matthews,” the man said calmly. “I know you’re upset, but what you’re telling us doesn’t make any sense. Now, which one of the men are you romantically involved with?”

Shrieking, I buried my face in my hands.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. “Ms. Matthews,” the woman said. “I understand how hard this is right now, but we need to know everything that happened.”

Of course they did. They had to know right this motherf*cking second. Who cared that Cage was bleeding out all over an operating table? Not them. They’d taken one look at the leather cut the doctors had handed them, read the words “Hell’s Horsemen,” and immediately thought the worst of him.

Who cared that I just watched the man I loved get shot twice in the chest, cough and wheeze and spit blood all over himself? Who cared that I watched as his eyes rolled back and his body went limp, or that I had to stand by and watch as the paramedics jammed a tube into his lungs to help him breathe, or that he was now in surgery as trauma surgeons attempted to remove the bullets and repair the damage to his lungs?

These f*ckers didn’t care.

“Cage,” I hissed, jerking my head up. “I am involved with Cage.”

“And Mr. Jeffries?” the man asked. “What was your relationship with him?”

“ZZ,” I said. “And he was my roommate. And just FYI, if you go around asking about Zachary Jeffries, no one is going to know who the f*ck you are talking about!”

“ZZ, then,” the woman said, squeezing my shoulder. “Were you ever involved with him? Is that why he shot Cage?”