“My father?” I shout, anger flaring hot and sudden. “What does he have to do with any of this?” He’s the reason Ryder is lying in a hospital, fighting for his life.
Zane’s mouth twists. “I remind you that my client is Peter Valeur, your father, not you. He’s involved, and he’s the one who needs to decide how to proceed with the evidence we have, or don’t have.”
A chill runs down my spine. “What does that mean? Are you talking about something illegal?”
Zane’s laugh is low and humorless. “Not everyone is content to wait for the wheels of justice to turn. Sometimes, justice needs a little...push.”
“You mean killing someone?”
“I didn’t say that,” Zane replies, but his eyes tell a different story.
I stare at him, truly seeing the dangerous man before me for the first time. “Did Ryder do jobs like this for you?” I ask, fear and doubt warring within me.
“Worried about your boyfriend’s reputation?” Zane asks, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Everything he did for me is no more than what he did in his military service.”
“That doesn’t tell me much,” I retort, my voice sharp.
Zane’s expression softens just slightly. “Ryder worked as abodyguard. He’s not on my special team if that helps you sleep better at night.”
I nod, a small measure of relief washing over me. “It does. Thank you.”
Zane glances at his phone, his expression hardening once more. “Your father wants me to bring you to the estate.”
“My father can go to hell,” I reply, the words coming out harsher than I intended.
“This is the third time he’s called,” Zane says, raising an eyebrow. He glances at the phone in my hand. “It seems he can’t reach you. Something wrong with your phone?”
“It’s broken.” I lie, not willing to admit that I’ve been ignoring my father’s calls.
Zane examines me for a moment, then clears his throat. “I’m sorry, but he’s the one giving the orders. We need to go.”
My heart races. “No. The only place I’m going is to the hospital. To Ryder.”
A flicker of something—respect? Amusement?—crosses Zane’s face. “I admire your spirit, but?—”
“No buts,” I interrupt, planting my feet. “You’ll have to drag me out of here kicking and screaming.”
Zane studies me for a long moment, a small smile tugging at his lips. “That can be arranged, you know.”
My eyes widen. God, he’s serious. “The only place I’m going is to the hospital, to Ryder,” I insist, desperation creeping into my voice. I resist the urge to stomp my foot like a little girl.
Zane shakes his head, pursing his lips. A glint appears in his light eyes, something almost like respect. “I like your fighting spirit, Blondie. Let’s go.”
“I’m not going to my father’s estate,” I repeat, standing my ground.
“Come on,” he says, turning toward the house. “I’m taking you to the hospital like you want.” He opens the glass door and looks back at me. “Are you coming?”
My heart skips a beat. “You’re really taking me to Ryder?”
“Are you calling me a liar?” His head tilts, challenge flashing in his emerald gaze.
“No.” I swallow hard. “I’m coming.”
I follow him through the house, my bare feet silent on the floor. Zane’s long legs eat up the distance in seconds. As we pass the entryway, I snatch my purse from the console table, the strap tangling around my wrist in my haste.
“Wait,” I call out, realizing I’m still barefoot. “I need shoes.”
Zane pauses, impatience written across his features. I dash to the closet, grabbing the first pair I see—simple black flats. I slip them on, hopping awkwardly as I do.
