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“Zaro? Are you alright?”
“You need to call off your fucking dog.” Her voice trembles with fury. “Right.Now.”
I wince. “Don’t call him that.”
“Why not? Isn’t that exactly what he is? You snap your fingers and your little guard dog comes running out to snap at my ankles and keep me in check?”
Her words smart, and guilt flares through me. Guilty for both of them: Iakov, for making him into a prison guard, and Zaro, for making her into a prisoner.
“I’m sorry, Zaro. It’s not my intention to keep you in check or make you feel like I am. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”
“Nothing is going on! I can’t fuckingsneezewithout this giant oaf acting like I’m in mortal danger!”
“Where are you?”
“It’s none of your fucking business! You’re not my fucking father, and neither is your stupid friend, and none of you can tell me what to do! Call him off—now!”
She hangs up before I can say anything.
“Shit,” I mutter to myself.
I call Iakov. He answers at the first ring.
“Hey,” he grunts.
“What’s going on? Where are you two?”
“King Lane,” Iakov says. “London.”
I frown. King Lane is one of the most exclusive clubs in London. “King Lane? How did she get in?”
“She met a guy at another club.”
“A guy? What guy?”
In the background, I can hear traffic and a female voice letting out a litany of insults. Zaro.
Iakov speaks on, unruffled and matter-of-fact.
“Says his name is Erik. Crypto-bro type.” There’s a moment of silence, Zaro speaks in the background, and then Iakov adds, “He’s invited her back to his hotel. She wants to go. I don’t think she should. Now you’re caught up.”
I’ve started pacing without realising, my stomach in knots, my heart rate twice what it was before Zaro called me. Before I can reply, I hear scrambling noises, and then Zaro’s voice replaces Iakov’s on the phone.
“None of that is any of your business. I’m not a fucking nun, Zach! If I want to go back to this guy’s hotel, I should be able to!”
“Pass the phone back to Iakov.”
“No! This conversation is aboutme! And you two are talking over my head like two parents discussing their child at the dinner table. Are you kidding me?”
“You’re right, Zaro, you’re not a child, so I’m not going to treat you like you’re making the mistakes of a child.” My voice is low, my throat tight with a mixture of fear and anger. “I’m going to treat you like you’re making the mistake of a complete fuckingidiotbecause that’s what you’re doing. You’re mad at our parents, and I get that, and I actually empathise with you—but what you’re doing is not only counter-productive, it’s downright dangerous, and, frankly, embarrassing. So—”
The line goes dead. I look down at the phone. She hung up on me.
I press the call button. After a few seconds, Iakov answers.
“What do you want me to do?” he asks.
“Bring her back to Spearcrest.”
