Page 68 of Zeus

Getting pissed at losing our stuff is expected. I doubt a single person has come into this compound and just rolled over and agreed. It isn't fair, and these folks are big on fairness when it fits their agenda. They can't always see it that way when they're taking others' liberties away, but that's also expected.

"If you have any other questions, the folks at the unload location can answer them," he says before taking a step back.

He walks a few steps away from the truck before stopping in his tracks as if a thought just occurred to him. He turns back toward us, staring into the passenger seat until Zeus looks in his direction before speaking.

"Be glad you didn't bring a woman with you," he says, a certain sadness in his tone. "They'd take her, too."

With that, he slaps the side of the truck and walks away. A few seconds later, the gate swings open, giving us access to the compound.

I can't even look at Zeus, despite the rage I can feel vibrating through him. I don't know if he's trying to act in line with what's expected of his character, or if he's trying to blow this. The man has to know that separation from the group at this point, after the two nights we've spent robbing people, literally witnessing the leader of the group commit a felony, isn't as simple as being asked to leave.

I can't explain it to him right now, and I don't know when I'll get the chance, but he has to calm the fuck down if he expects to be successful in our mission.

We need to be the new guys these people trust and lean on, or it will take us fucking months, if not years, to gather the intel we need to take them down. I don't know about him, but spending that long with this group was never in my fucking plans.

"Calm the fuck down," I say as I put the truck in park outside of the first building we're expected at.

He grumbles something about working hard for the things he has, and I know he's in character rather than hell-bent on getting us killed.

"Well, look at you," he says with more than a hint of flirtation in his voice as he climbs out of the truck to be greeted by a cute blonde exiting the building.

"You must be Curtis," she says, bouncing up to him with her hand out.

I don't miss the way her eyes dart in my direction as if she's already terrified of me before she looks back at him.

"Actually, I'm Curtis," I say, watching as she pulls her hand back before Zeus can take it.

Her eyes dart between the two of us, and, much like with Ricky, it seems Lyle Smith's reputation as a giant asshole has spread around the camp.

"I'm Lyle," Zeus says, a softer edge than I've ever heard in his tone. "And you are?"

"I'm Re—" she pauses, as if she has made a mistake. "I'm Candy."

"Nice to meet you, Candy," he says, holding out his hand and not missing a beat, even though this woman just obviously lied to him.

She hesitates a second time, her hand slow to rise, as if she knows being rude to him would come with dire consequences, before reluctantly placing her tiny hand in his.

He gives it a gentle shake before immediately releasing it, knowing the touch is unwanted. I can only presume he doesn't want to victimize her further than she already has been.

He gives her a wide smile as he hitches his thumb over his shoulder to indicate the truck. "I'm told we're to relinquish all of our belongings to you."

"Not everything," she quickly explains as if she has been treated poorly by others in our position before. "Just weapons, electronics, bug-out bags, that sort of thing."

"Do we need to unload it ourselves, or will we have some help?" he asks, his smile never fading.

Hell, the man almost looks approachable, and it's very reminiscent of how he looked at Dakota when she paid attention to him, as if he valued what she had to say.

No wonder this man took a job defending women. It's clear he can see the value in her, even when most people she crosses paths with only see her as a possession to be used and abused at their whim.

She narrows her eyes, her smile hesitant. "I heard you were mean."

His fake smile turns genuine at her challenge, and it's a fucking sight to see. Mesmerizing, almost, and I can't help but try to think back if he's ever looked that way at me.

I bite my lower lip, remembering that very same smile only a couple of hours earlier in the bathroom, and knowing he threw it my way more than once recently does nothing to help me build up a wall to fight what I'm feeling for the man.

"Only to assholes," he assures her. "You're not an asshole, are you?"

She shakes her head, smile growing wider, and damn if she isn't pretty. Although it's hard to look past the dark circles under her eyes and the clear bruising on her upper arm as if she had been recently grabbed by someone much bigger than she is.