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Alek’s lips fall into a deep frown, confusion and anger plaguing him. “You don’t honestly believe her?”
Zoey arches a brow, awaiting my answer.
“I don’t have a choice. If there’s a possibility that what she’s saying is true, then I have to do what she says. I won’t leave Saint to the mercy of that asshole.”
Just thinking of him in the hands of Oscar causes my skin to crawl.
Zoey breaks free from Alek’s hold, her grin revealing she enjoys having the upper hand—finally. As much as I hate to rely on her, she is the only ally I have.
“So what’s the plan?”
“???????, no. Do not be fooled by her. She would do anything to get back at me.”
The small tic beneath Zoey’s eye betrays her newfound attitude. She may think she’s rid Alek from her system, but the term of endearment he used for me still gets to her. But I can’t blame her; he was her heroin once upon a time.
“That may be true, but I have to find that out for myself.”
Alek sighs heavily, clearly annoyed by my stubbornness.
“When do we leave?” I want to ask a million other questions, but they can wait. This is the only one that matters.
Zoey nods once, happy with my choice. “I have a few ideas, all of which are dangerous and will probably get you killed.”
Reining in my anger, I focus on the task at hand. “I’m okay with that.”
Alek, it appears, can no longer stand this discussion and turns on his heel to go back inside. I don’t know why he cares. It seems he’s been given a get out of jail for free card as his life will be spared. But from his reaction, you’d think he was the one whose neck was on the line.
Once he’s gone, Zoey reveals her plans. “Pavel has studied the blueprints of Oscar’s home. Just like every villain, he has a secret tunnel leading from the master bedroom to the greenhouse. The garage is close by, allowing an easy exit.”
“Good, let’s go.” I attempt to turn around, but Zoey shakes her head.
“Did you not listen to a word I said?” she asks, looking at me as though I’m an imbecile. “The place is like a fort. We wouldn’t get three feet without being killed. And what good are we to Saint if we’re dead?”
“What then?” I question, unappreciative of her tone.
She tongues her cheek, as if mulling over what to say. “The easiest way in…is for you to walk up to the front door and knock.”
I blink once because I’m not sure if she’s serious. She is.
“It can go one of two ways. They either let you in. Or…” But there is no need for her to elaborate.
I do what she proposes, and there is a high probability that I’ll end up dead.
“But if you’re too gutless, then—”
There are no buts in this situation. “I’ll do it,” I interrupt, not wanting to hear another plan of attack because there isn’t one.
This is going to be the best way into the lion’s den because deep down, I know Oscar won’t kill me. Torture me, yes. But kill me, no. What good am I dead? I provide more interest for him alive. He said so himself.
“I need to know what makes you special.”
That’s what Oscar said to me when he tricked Max into taking me to his home. But this time, I come willingly.
Zoey appears to weigh my response, unsure if I’ve heard her correctly. “You know what this means, right?”
“Yes,” I reply without wavering.
“And you’re okay with whatever the outcome may be?”
