“Z, just—”
“We’re going to find her,” I said, looking around the group. “Anyone who doesn’t want to come with me, that’s fine. I’ll go on my own.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Zahra
“So, are we just gonna sit in this minivan until one of these proper people calls the cops on us?” Upper asked. “I cannot get my name into the system.”
“Shut up, rich boy,” Dog said, eyes scanning the neighborhood from his seat near the window at the back. “She’s processing.”
I was biting my thumb, my leg bouncing as I pinned my gaze on the house through the closed window of the passenger’s seat.
The house was literally—perfect, just like the woman who lived there.
“I still don’t think Elio would do that,” Milk said. “He doesn’t seem like that kind of guy.”
“And I still think you should have heard him out. He’s called everyone, which means he has an actual excuse that might make sense,” Devil said from beside me in the driver’s seat.
“Or he doesn’t.”
“Z, just—”
“No one answers his call. Doing that would be an act of betrayal, and I will never forgive any of you.”
The car was silent again as I looked away from the house. “I bet my whole life savings that he spends most of his time here, fucking hypocrite,” I muttered.
“Are we going in?” Devil asked with a sigh. “What exactly is your plan? We’ve been sitting here for over an hour now.”
“I’m thinking,” I gritted out.
“While we think,” Dog spoke up, “I’m starving and wouldlike to distract myself. Why don’t we play another reveal game?”
“Like last time?” Milk asked.
“Exactly. Last time, we shared the meanings of our names; this time, we’ll share our real names. Who’s in?”
I let my head fall back on the headrest and took everyone’s quietness as acceptance.
“I’ll go first,” Dog said. “You laugh, and I snap your necks.” He cleared his throat, silence, then, “My real name’s Wesley Reagan.”
I pressed my lips together.
“Your real name’sWesley?” Devil shot out without missing a beat, looking back at Dog.
“Yeah. But most people call me Reagan because I always tell them never to call me Wesley. Or I’ll snap their necks,” he said pointedly.
“Right,” Devil said.
“Wesley is an okay name—just doesn’t suit your face,” Upper said.
I sat up. “I really can’t imagine—”
“No comments from you, Zahra; I really don’t wanna hear what you have to say about my name.”
“Then can I laugh?” I asked.
“Yeah, sure. We drove past a cemetery on the way here; laying you to rest will be easy. It’s night, no one will see.”
