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Dalton howls with laughter, no longer capable of holding it back, and in a split moment, Zade’s ferocious glare snaps to mine. His hand crashes into the back of mine, propelling the used napkin up into the air and sailing in the perfect arc right into Dalton’s face.
Dalton gasps in horror, groaning in disgust though I don’t know what his problem is—half of that is his. Then, forcing a fake smile across his face, Zade looks back at me. “Satisfied?”
“Asshole,” I mutter.
Dalton scoffs. “Careful, bro,” he warns Zade. “Keep fucking with me like that and I’ll shove this napkin so far down your throat you’ll be tasting me for weeks.”
Zade glares at Dalton through the rearview mirror as I settle into my seat, crossing my arms over my chest and turning my body toward the window in the hopes of blocking Bossman out, but something tells me evading his questions isn’t going to be that easy.
We drive in silence for an hour, and before I know it, the guys are asleep in the backseat, the three of them squished together like sardines. My head falls against the window, and realizing just how long this drive is going to be, I close my eyes and try to sleep, but as soon as the darkness seeps in, the memory of the serrated knife plunging into that man’s throat flashes through my mind.
“Why’d you leave him behind?” Zade questions, his deep tone filling the car.
My brows furrow, and I lift my head off the window to meet his eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“Your father,” he explains. “All you’ve wanted to do since you found out he was alive was save him, and you had the perfect opportunity. You were right there in those cells, so what happened? Why would you turn your back on him like that?”
My gaze falls away, and I turn back to the window, watching the other cars’ headlights pass us by. I’ve gone out of my way over the past few weeks to hide my father from Zade, and now . . . I no longer know what side I’m on. “He’s not the man I thought he was,” I tell him. “He’s been lying to me this whole time.”
“What do you mean?”
Letting out a shaky breath, I turn back to him and hate the concern I see in his eyes. He shouldn’t care about me like this. It’s not fair. “When I got down there, his cell was empty.”
Zade shakes his head. “No, that’s not possible.”
“I was about to leave when I heard people coming. There were three of them in dirty suits, like they’d just been at Cara’s initiation ball and narrowly escaped the blast. One of them was my father, so I hid while they talked.”
“And?” he prompts.
“And he’s a bigger asshole than you are,” I say bluntly. “He thought you were dead and was saying how his plan is finally in motion, and it became pretty freaking clear that his men were responsible for the attacks.”
“No, my mother is responsible for that.”
I shake my head. “Maybe they both have their own agendas,” I tell him with a shrug of my shoulders, not really understanding. “He was ordering his men to find me, and when they said they wouldn’t let him down, he scoffed at them and commented how I’d already evaded them before. He’s planning something.”
Zade nods, going silent for a moment. “What does he want with you?”
“The same thing everyone does,” I say with a heavy sigh. “He wants me dead so that when he can finally claim Empire, there’s no one left to challenge him. He told his people to take me with any force necessary.”
“Shit.”
“Mmhmm,” I murmur, pressing my lips into a hard line. “Liv pretty much said the same thing, that her orders were to take me dead or alive. It seems like every step I take, there’s someone coming for my throat. I’ll never be safe in this world.”
Zade reaches across the center console and takes my hand, gently squeezing it while staring straight out the windshield as if pretending this isn’t actually happening. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, Lamb. You’re mine.”
A perfectly round tear falls from my eyes, falling off my jaw and splashing against my chest as I turn back to him. A soft smile pulls at the corners of my lips, and what kills me is that I know how much he means it, every damn word. He’ll never let anyone hurt me, never allow them to take me away and use me for their own sick plans . . . apart from his own.
Letting out a soft sigh, Zade holds my stare, and I know he sees the brokenness in my eyes. “If only you weren’t the monster I needed protecting from,” I tell him, and with that, I turn back to the window and get comfortable, willing myself to close out the pain and finally fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.
