Page 99 of Worshiping Faith

I narrow my eyes. “So good good?”

Wilkes’ nostrils flare. His silence confirms what I already knew. This isn’t about whether Mason is good or bad. It’s about control.

“No one fucks with Mason,” he says finally.

That doesn’t answer my question.

“Does he piss you off, or is it Irish?” I challenge, folding my arms. “Or is it me?”

His gaze drags over me, slow, assessing. Then that muscle in his jaw ticks again, and he smiles.

The door at the end of the hall bursts open like a goddamn hurricane.

Zachs. Of course.

He strolls in, because the bastard doesn’t limp, doesn’t wince, doesn’t acknowledge for a second that his leg is fucked.

I exhale sharply, pressing my fingers to my temple. This is why Dax’s shoulder is still giving him hell. Why none of them heal right. Because every single one of these assholes refuses to sit their stubborn asses down and let their bodies fucking recover.

Zachs grins like he owns the place, like he is the place. “Make a grocery list, darlin’. I’m gonna test out one of the zoom-zooms.”

I blink.

“You too, Wilkes,” he adds. “Special request from the mainland? Write it down. I’m leaving tomorrow night.”

My brain stops working.

Crutches. I said crutches. And he heard that as go fight zombies for some bullshit from the mainland?! I take a step forward. Try to find words. They aren’t coming fast enough. “A word?” I manage to say.

Zachs stops mid-step. Grins. “Shit. Look at her face. I’m so screwed.” He glances at Wilkes. “You got Jinx?”

“In the room,” I snap.

He goes. Good. Because I am out of patience.

The second the door clicks behind me, I lay into him.

“What do we need?” My voice is rising, and I don’t give a shit. “Nothing. This ship has everything. That’s what Dax said. We took everything from the island. We have supplies, we have weapons, we have medicine. What the actual fuck is so goddamn important?”

Zachs opens his mouth.

I cut him off.

“I don’t need pills,” I snap. “This place didn’t have any, but since it’s a man’s world, the fucker was loaded with condoms, so we’re good.”

Zachs pauses. Then, like the smug, shameless asshole he is, he waggles his brows. “Yeah, sweetheart, I saw that stash. Ain’t gonna last you and me a week.”

I swear to God.

He moves to pull me in, to wrap me up in his arms like that’s gonna fix this.

I push against his chest. “I’m not kidding.” My voice shakes with how much I mean this. “You need off your leg. It won’t heal right if you tear the muscle before it can.”

And then he kisses me.

Not raw. Not brutal.

It’s slow. So slow that my brain, my body, my whole fucking heart catches up to the words he said earlier.