It feels like thereâs a cosmic push to keep me away from investigating Sloaneâs case.
First, I had to press pause when Zane got hurt and his brothers were three seconds away from committing murder.
And now, instead of driving to The Kingâs mansion where I can safely sort through the files we stole, Iâm heading to a downtown bistro in my nicest blouse and jeans to meet some random guy mom picked out for me.
My phone buzzes.
Itâs one of the administrators in the Redwood Prep group chat.
Has anyone seen Miss Jamieson today?
No.
Isnât she supposed to be here?
Someone give her a call.
A moment later, my phone starts buzzing.
Itâs the principalâs office.
Hands trembling, I put the phone on silent and inhale a calming breath.
Harris isnât stupid. Heâll be waiting for me to make a move against him. And if I donât have a strong net to trap him, heâll find a way to wiggle out and rain hell on me.
There needs to be evidence in those boxes against Harris and all the cronies who were involved in The Grateful Project.
If not, it wonât only be my head on the block.
The Kings will be a target too.
âI donât like this,â Zane growls, sitting at my right. Heâs wearing a fresh T-shirt, torn jeans and his signature military boots. With those bruises and his hair loose and falling into his eyes, he looks absolutely dangerous.
âYou didnât have to come.â My eyes drop to the sling cradling his wrist. âYou should be in the hospital right now.â
âAnd you should be anywhere but here.â
âThis is the only way to get my mom to calm down.â
âThere are other ways.â
âYeah, like what?â
He shakes his head. âShe can dislocate my other wrist.â
âSheâd love to. Trust me. But even after breaking all your bones, sheâd still send me on this date.â
He runs his uninjured hand through his hair and makes a sound of frustration.
I glance out the window. Quietly, I admit, âMaybe this is a good thing.â
The air in the cab shifts.
I know Iâm playing with fire but I throw gas on the flames anyway because the only person who can draw a line in the sand is me.
âMaybe me and this guy hit it off. Mom knows me best after all. Itâs possible that heâs my future husband. Crazier things have happened.â
Zane goes deathly quiet.
I glance over my shoulder and my heart lurches in my chest.
A dangerous look is in his eyes. âTry me, tiger. Iâll marry you tomorrow.â
My heart ricochets and I tell myself not to take it seriously. âWhat is with you brothers and declaring marriage like it solves everything?â
âIt solves whether or not we have the right to be together.â
âWe donât have a right to be together. Thatâs the whole point.â I hear the frustration in my tone. âYouâre the king of Redwood. Sure. Fine. But you donât control the world outside of Redwood. In that world⦠there is no legal or moral grounds for us to stand on.â
âI donât give a damn about laws and morals. I only care about you.â
My moral compass is so damaged, so screwed up, that his words send a zip of electricity straight between my legs.
For the briefest moment, I consider throwing off restraint, climbing into his lap and kissing him like nothing else matters.
But I donât move.
âLike I said, you can survive breaking laws and moral codes. I canât. You wonât be able to see me if Iâm in jail,â I snap.
âIâll wait for you to get out.â Heâs half-smiling.
I donât smile back.
Zane is pushing hard on the defenses I have around my heart.
But us together?
Itâs impossible.
We both need a reality check.
I make my tone intentionally sharp. âWhat do you expect, Zane? That you and I get to walk into the sunset together? That thisâ¦â I gesture between us, âthing turns into love? A real marriage?â
âWhy canât it?â
âThatâs not happening. Thatâs never happening.â
Slowly, he unclips his seatbelt, not breaking eye contact. He slides across the seat. âShould I remind you who this body belongs to? Because it sounds like you need a refresh.â
I lift a hand and set it on his chest before he can put his weight on me.
My heart is beating loudly. âAs far as Iâm aware, Iâm single.â
âYouâre mine.â
âYouâre too young for me.â
âYouâre perfect for me.â
I scowl. âYou should date girls your own age.â
âIs that what you tell yourself? That you should date someone your own age?â His fingers slide down the front of my shirt. âBecause I donât think thatâs what you really want.â
I twist my head and notice the cab driver staring at us.
Shoving Zane off, I quickly fix my shirt and tuck it back into my pants. My body is aching, desperate for more of his touch. âControl yourself. People are watching.â
Iâm not just talking to Zane, but to myself.
âYes, maâam,â Zane says in that deep, mischievous voice that warns me that heâll never listen to instructions.
My skin prickles with heat everywhere his hands brushed and I cross my legs tightly.
Zane stiffens. âWeâre almost there.â
I look out the window and notice the restaurant coming into view. My stomach tightens with nerves. âI hope this doesnât take long.â
âKeep in mind that if he touches you, Iâll beat his face into the pavement.â Zane curls his lips up in a bitter smirk. âJust in case that isnât clear.â
âYouâre going to beat him with one arm?â
âI donât need two arms to fight, tiger.â He winks.
âYouâre that confident?â
âCome to my room tonight. Iâll show you what I can do with only one hand.â
I swallow hard.
The car stops.
Distractedly, I fluff my curls and take out my lipstick to reapply.
Before I can trace my lips, I suddenly find myself flat on my back with Zane hovering over me. He eyes me hard. âWho are you prettying yourself up for?â
âZaneâ¦â
He frowns, his eyes two stormy pits of blue and gold. âI really donât want to let you go.â
My heart is heavy.
Now that Iâm here, looking up into the chiseled planes of his face and feeling the heat of his chest, I realize I donât want to go either.
Is that because I have real, sincere feelings for Zane? Or is it just because of the urgency I feel to get back to the investigation?
âIâm only here so my mom can calm down enough to listen to me. Iâll take two minutes to apologize for wasting this guyâs time and leave.â
Zane considers it and then eases off me.
I think heâs going to let me go when he leans in and gently brushes my lips with his own. Itâs only a quick flash of a kiss but I chase his lips down, searching for more.
His hand cups my face. The tender look in his eyes is mesmerizing. And unexpected. This rogue of a drummer with the tattoos, the blue eyes, and the thirst for danger is no longer hiding his affection. Itâs pouring out of him like a flood and it makes me breathless.
He taps my nose. âConsider that a taste of what will happen later. The sooner you leave, the sooner you can come back for more.â
I poke his side, right where he got punched last night.
Zane doubles over. âOw!â
âStop messing around and go.â
He scrunches his nose and sits straight up. âIâll be watching from here. This guy could be a psycho.â
âHe canât be worse than you,â I mumble.
His finger teases the corner of my shirt. A reluctant smile on his lips, he nods. âAt least you know it, tiger.â
The cab driver glances at us. âW-weâre here.â
I ease out of the car on shaky legs. The sun is high in the sky and it beats down on my head. I can feel sweat gathering already.
I lift a hand to shade my eyes from the blaze and enter the restaurant.
I have no idea what mom told this guy about me but, after I break my dateâs heart I need to figure out a way to break Zaneâs.