Page 54 of Kings of Sherwood

Zayn leans back, runs a hand over his jaw. “I dunno. I get it now, y’know? The way y’all are with Maren...damn, I don’t know. If I had somebody I cared about that much, I’d probably be just as overprotective. And I don’t even have a murderous ADA on my tail.”

“Neither do we,” Will says. “Technically.”

I sigh. “Not like that’s really made things that much better.”

Will doesn’t argue.

Zayn’s cousin comes back with our coffee—three steaming mugs, two of which have visible cracks. She sets them down like she’s performing a delicate surgery, along with a chipped bowl of creamers that none of us touches.

Will takes a sip and blinks. “Holy shit. This is... this is actually good.”

“Told you.” Zayn takes a sip of his own.

Will nurses his coffee for a long moment. Then: “I am sorry. You’re a good guy, Zayn. And I’m an asshole.”

Zayn shrugs. “I...wouldn’t go that far. But I’ll accept the apology.” He nods, offers a hand, which Will shakes.

“And with that taken care of,” Will says, “I’m going to use the facilities.”

He scoots out of the booth and catches the eye of our waitress, who directs him around a wood-paneled corner. I watch him go, then look back at Zayn.

And he looks...concerned.

“So how are you?” he says. “Really? I mean, you’re alive. And Guy...”

“Isn’t?”

He laughs, though there’s not a lot of humor in it. “Basically. I can’t say I haven’t been wondering about y’all. Worrying, more like.”

“We’re in one piece,” I reassure him. I run it all down for him as quick as I can: back at the house, all more or less intact, the bounty, the bountyhunter, the fact that my bastard ex-guardian is the one funding the hit.

“And now Rob’s got us back on his usual operations,” I finish. “Which is what we’re out here doing today.”

“Usual operations?” Zayn lifts an eyebrow.

I blow out a breath. “You’re not gonna narc on us, right?”

“To Wheatley? Nah. Not unless he reinstates my paycheck. Kidding,” he adds hastily. “Not for anything.”

I nod. I believe him. “Stealing,” I say. “And...redistributing. To whoever needs it. Today’s just random drops, just a general good karma thing, but soon it’ll be more targeted.”

“The drops?”

“And the thefts,” I admit. “Although I’m not really privy to how that part works.”

Zayn waves his hands in the air. “I don’t wanna know, anyway.” He nods, absorbing the information. “So that’s the plan, then? Just carry on as usual?”

I trace the rim of my coffee mug. “I...guess so.” I shake my head. “Actually, I don’t know. Rob’s theory is that if people aren’t desperate, then a fat bounty won’t really be all that tempting to them. Hence all the...redistribution. But...I don’t know.”

“Makes sense to me,” Zayn says.

“Does it?” I look up into his eyes, which are deep and friendly. “We still have Wheatley to worry about, even if the delegates in Richmond have him financially neutered. And then there’s all the...”

“Magic shit?” Zayn offers. I consider, then nod.

“Yeah, that.” I squint my eyes shut. “I don’t know. It all feels like so much.”

“I can help,” Zayn’s voice says. I open my eyes.

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