“You know the old man only agreed to this because you told him you just needed to speak to her.”
His jaw tightens as he keeps going, driving me crazy while he takes us down another shady as fuck dirt road that goes to hell only knows where.
“I’m the only reason this plan of yours worked,” I remind him.
Getting close enough to the world’s biggest popstar was never going to be easy, but Zane’s obsession wouldn’t let him let go of this crazy idea. There was only one problem when it came to crunch time.
There was no way in hell Zelena’s security team would okay an Alpha as her van’s driver.
The last-minute driver change was always the diciest part of this plan, and Zane couldn’t be the one to do it. Considering he has no other friends, and I’ve always been too dumb to say no to him, he called me in for this favor of a lifetime.
I’d told myself I was doing it to help him get over his obsession, but who the fuck do I think I’m kidding here?
He’s still the guy I thought was going to be my Alpha, with everything that entails.
There’s pretty much nothing I wouldn’t do for him. Even if he doesn’t feel the same about me.
I ignore the familiar stab of pain that hits with every reminder that he’ll never be mine.
I’m used to feeling that loss. It’s been a constant in my life for so long that I don’t know what I’d do without it.
“Stop the van,” I tell him.
He glances at me, frowning. “What? No.”
“You made promises about what this was, Zane. If this is really about talking to her, you’ll stop the van and let her out of that stupid box so we can talk to her.”
I can’t let this go any further. We’ve kidnapped a celebrity. We’re not going to get away with it.
Whatever delusion he’s got going right now, it isn’t going to make what we did tonight legal.
I’m probably going to jail, and that’s okay.
I did a bad thing. I can accept the repercussions.
What I can’t accept is letting Zane make things any worse.
He doesn’t stop the van. He keeps driving, not even slowing down.
I don’t like how determined he looks right now. I’ve seen that expression on his face a million times, and he never backs down when he gets that look.
“I thought the whole point of this was to talk to her.”
“It is,” he says, finally. “We need the right place to do that.”
“And the right place is apparently the middle of fucking nowhere.”
“We’re almost there.”
“We’re already there.”
He glances at me, picking up on the anger in my voice. He presses his lips together as his attention turns back to the road. “You’ll understand when we get there.”
I’m not going to change his mind about ‘the right place’, clearly, but I don’t like it.
It feels like he’s hiding something from me.
“She’s panicking in that box,” I tell him, knowing her emotions are heightening my own concerns, and wondering if Zane has any compassion left inside him to care.