This is what I’ve been doing since I left that fundraiser last night. At least, when I’m not in whatever meeting or appearance that’s scheduled. I tried the gym in the hotel, but there was no way that was going to work. I wanted to bash the face in of every guy that walked in there.
She fucking lied to me about working this weekend. But it’s more than that. She was at a party in fucking Chicago with another guy.
Whoever the guy was knew exactly who I was because he made sure that I saw the two of them together. I wish I'd paid a little better attention to him, but my eyes were on Tori.
He made sure she knew that I saw too. Her face paled so many shades it was almost translucent. She was caught and she knew it.
She’s been calling me and texting me for hours now. I should probably block her since every time I see her name and face pop up on my phone, I want to rip out someone’s throat, but I’m being a bit of a masochist right now.
I can’t help but wonder who the guy is, and how she knows him. Is this something new or is this something that’s been going on for a while? Did she meet him during her stay a few weeks ago with her sister? Is this why she’s been so fucking closed off?
I drop down and begin my pushups. I am pushing my body way too hard considering we have a game on Sunday. If I don’t slow down, I’m not going to be able to move, but it’s all I can do. I have to get this pent-up frustration and anger out. And believe me, there is a lot of it. Had Jax not led me out of the place, I would’ve ripped the douche bag’s balls clean off and fed them to him.
Knocking at my door stops my punishment for the moment. Jax is the only one brave enough to come to my room right now. Everyone else figured out very quickly that I’m not in the mood after I practically got into a fight with the entire team this morning.
I swing the door open a little too hard, making it slam into the wall leaving a dent. Something I will have to pay for I’m sure. “What the fuck do you want?” I bellow.
“Get dressed,” he orders. “We gotta go.”
My eyes turn into narrow slits and my jaw clenches. I’m not in the fucking mood for orders and demands without explanation. I fold my arms across my chest. “Where?” I growl.
“Verity,” he tells me walking into the room.
I almost do a double take. Verity left River City a couple of weeks ago without warning. Sebastian’s been a wreck, and I miss my friend. “Excuse me? Did you just say Verity?”
“It’s fucking bad, Zane. Bastian is about to lose his shit,” he grits out. “Romano DeLuca took Verity.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I ask needing him to back up about ten steps. “I thought Verity left.”
“Bastian and Rory were at an event tonight announcing the sale of GioDistrubing to Diamond. Verity was there with Romano. Bastian could see something was off. Apparently, she fainted. DeLuca has been holding her prisoner.”
“What the actual fuck?” I stumble back a bit feeling like I’ve been punched in the gut.
“They’re going after her, and we’re going to help them.”
“Goddamned right we are,” I growl. Guilt begins to swim in my stomach. I knew Verity didn’t run. Not after she told me and Zoey she was in love with Bastian. Not after she said she was going home to tell him. But I’ve been so caught up with Tori that I didn’t really get involved. “Fuck!” I yell out. One more goddamned thing gone wrong.
“Don’t, Zee. Not your fault.”
“Maybe not, but this shit could’ve ended weeks ago if I’d just kicked Bastian’s fucking ass.”
At least I was going to have something - someone to take my anger out on.
Maybe it is wrongbut giving Romano DeLuca everything he deserved really helped me get out a lot of the anger I was feeling. I didn’t feel an ounce of remorse that he didn’t make it out alive. Felt even less over his father and Verity’s father joining him in hell. It’s exactly where they belonged.
The anger I was feeling didn’t take long to turn into self-pity. I understand Bastian locking himself in is loft for two weeks drowning his sorrows in liquor. I kind of want something a little stronger than alcohol. Only reason I haven’t went after it is because Jax has been watching me like a fucking hawk.
Just like right now. Sitting in my apartment watching absolutely nothing on tv, drinking another bottle of Jack and listening to nothing at all. He sits across from me sipping on his bottle of beer pretending to watch Inside the NFL when he’s really watching me.
“Jay, go home to your wife,” I tell him with a bit of a slur, the alcohol doing its job somewhat.
“My wife – your sister – wants me here with you.”
“I’m fine, Jay. Abso – fucking – lutely fine.” I stand to my feet with my signature smile and a little sway.
“Yeah, you look as fine as I did for an entire damn year. Drunk off your ass. Have you talked to her?”
“Nope,” I reply making sure to emphasize my ‘p’.
