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Even if she was endin’ things between us, there was no way Piper would go with James. Maybe she’d be into Gage or Jet, but definitely not Blake Green.

She didn’t even like his music.

But they were meetin’ often and with everythin’ Z told me…

No.

Not Z.

No way he’d do this to me. No fuckin’ way.

It’s gotta be someone else.

It’s gotta be.

Even as I tried to convince myself otherwise, the pieces fell into place like a fucked up puzzle.

The men liked their jobs and they worked hard. I never had to babysit any of them, but I knew where they were most of the time since we worked side by side.

Except Z.

He did the wiring in a different room at the shop. He’d had access to Piper’s phone and computer. More importantly, he’d know what to do with them.

I asked her fuckin’ stalker to protect her from himself.

I’d been grateful when Piper told me he’d gone into her house to check things out. I’d thought he was bein’ a good friend.

That was probably when he grabbed her fuckin’ panties.

At the reminder of the package he’d probably just fuckin’ set on my desk, I accelerated the bike faster.

Parkin’ a few houses down from Piper’s, I jogged the remainder of the way. I didn’t hear any noise as I climbed onto the porch. My heart halted in my chest as I eased the front door open to reveal a pool of blood soakin’ into Piper’s carpet.

Pushin’ it fully open, my breath hissed out when I saw James lyin’ in the blood, his eyes on me.

“Room. Gun. Cops coming quietly,” he rasped. He lifted the phone in his hand slightly but the effort to talk or move clearly pained him.

I jerked my chin up. Unholsterin’ my gun, I switched the safety off.

“Take care of her,” he forced out. His eyes closed as his head dropped back to the floor.

My heart was poundin’ in my throat as I moved slowly towards the bedroom. I pushed tight against the wall and heard the low rumble of Z’s voice from Piper’s room.

Gettin’ closer, I carefully inched the door open so I could peek in.

I’m gonna kill that fucker.

Raisin’ my gun, I steadied my aim. Z was so preoccupied that I could’ve walked right up to the bed.

One of his hands was around Piper’s throat while his other worked at his pants. His gun was set to the side, almost out of reach.

I squeezed off a round, the sound echoin’ in the small room. Blood spurted out as the bullet entered Z’s thigh, forcin’ him to roll to the side and fall off the bed.

Steppin’ to where he sat on the floor, I pressed my gun flush to his temple.

When Piper’s chest rose and fell steadily, I felt relief so strong it took everythin’ I had not to sink to my knees.

I looked down at Z, his blood oozin’ from his thigh all over Piper’s rug. I waited, expectin’ him to give some excuse or explanation. To at least say somethin’.