“Just like he'd kill you two. Look, I stay because I don't want to leave you behind. You're a mess, and you need someone looking out for you.” Brock unfurled his hands. “There's nothing else for me in Ciondo. If I do this, it casts suspicion on you, but you're resilient. You can win back the Phaedra's trust and keep working.”
Imagining life in Ciondo without Brock sounded so bleak, even if his friend just infuriated him enough to put his head through the wall. But he also wanted to see Brock free in the territories. “How will we explain it?”
“I'll come around over the next few weeks.” Brock leaned back. “Say I fell for her. She's pretty and sweet. The Phaedra will buy it.”
Zayne's brows raised. “That's it. You betrayed your country because a woman is pretty and sweet?”
“Oh yeah.” Brock shrugged. “Easily. Love is the greatest excuse.”
Zayne blinked and nodded, realizing Brock was right.
“It could work,” Ashantae said. “Brock doesn't want to fight anyway. He'll be content taking off and hiding.”
“So very content,” Brock said. “We'll pretend Kira and I are together out here. You know, in love and happy. Eventually, no one will care. We don't matter to the Phaedra. It's his power that matters. Sure, if he can find us, he'll make us suffer, but if he can't, he has plenty of other enemies.”
“You'd do this for her?” Zayne asked, torn by hope and sadness.
“Yes.” A hesitation like Brock may stop there. “And for you.”
Ashantae looked between the two of them. “We'll need the United's help getting her out of Ciondo and moving to their best safe house. We shouldn't tie up your name in this, Zayne. Let me handle this part.”
“Just be discreet,” Zayne said, his mind flashing through potential plans.
“All you and Brock need to do is figure out how to get her past security at your parents’ and to a neutral location where the United can meet them.”
“Then they'll be free,” Zayne said quietly. “We'll offer the United information to convince them.”
“If all plans fail and we can't get her out…” Ashantae's voice softened. “What then?”
Brock rubbed his temples, eyes closed.
No one answered the question, not because it seemed unlikely, but because failure wasn't an option.
“Will you give her an escape?” Ashantae asked finally.
Zayne sensed Brock's eyes on him. The question turned in his mind over and over. What a polite way to ask whether he'd help Kira kill herself to end the torture. “I won't let it come to that. I'll find a way.”
Zayne returned to the table and started picking up the almonds. Imani helped him and then placed the cup in front of Ashantae.
“Eat up, babe,” Imani said with a sad but teasing smile.
Ashantae smiled too and slapped Zayne on the back. “You need sleep, my friend.” A nod at Brock. “You too.”
“There's too much to do,” Zayne said. “This needs to happen as fast as possible. I—”
“A few hours of sleep will be more productive than anything else right now,” they said. “You're exhausted. I'll work on this.”
“You might argue with her, but you won't argue with me.” Imani flicked the cup of almonds threateningly.
Brock required no persuasion. He took the first room, and Zayne entered the second, sighing when he settled face down on the bed.
Then the door opened, and Imani climbed over Zayne, leaning against the corner of the wall.
“You don't need to do that anymore.” Sleep already tugged at him.
“Shut up.” Imani opened her book to read. “When you outgrow your nightmares, then you'll outgrow my company.”
He laughed. “I don't think these are the kind of nightmares someone outgrows.”
