17. Chapter Seventeen Zane
Chapter Seventeen: Zane
T he infant’s soft breathing was the only sound in the rental car as we sped down the rural Florida highway. SJ was swaddled and secure in the backseat, this fragile little reminder of what we were fighting for. I leaned my head against the window, my body still, but my mind wouldn’t stop. Every possible outcome, every risk, played out in my head like a reel I couldn’t turn off.
Hassan’s voice broke the silence, sharp and decisive. “We need to head to Miami. It’s the logical place to regroup.”
I turned to look at him, forcing my expression to stay calm even as irritation prickled at the edge of my patience. His hands gripped the steering wheel like he was ready to snap it in two, his whole body tense with that same relentless determination he always carried.
“Vito will anticipate that,” I said evenly, keeping my tone neutral. “It’s too dangerous. Don’t you want to see Justice?”
“Of course I do. But I know she would never forgive me if I let anything happen to her son.”
“We have to do the sensible thing right now.”
His jaw tightened, his eyes staying locked on the road ahead. “We can handle the danger. We need to be where we can make moves, where we have resources.”
Hassan didn’t scare easy, and I respected that about him. But sometimes, it was like he thought charging headlong into chaos was the only way forward. I took a slow breath, keeping my voice steady. “Think about Justice. Hassan. And I’m here, not there with her.”
That did it. His hands twitched on the wheel, and his gaze flicked to the rearview mirror for a split second before locking back onto the road. I pressed on, softening my tone. “She needs medical attention. The safehouse in Naples is equipped for that. It’s safer for all of us. Especially for SJ.”
I glanced at the mirror, at SJ’s tiny form tucked in tight. Just looking at him made my chest ache in a way that wasn’t entirely comfortable. He deserved better than the mess we were dragging him through. So did Justice.
He was driving after I’d gotten tired, but the phone call from Skylar made it impossible to focus on anything but them. They were fine. They were alive. They had escaped.
And we were still standing, despite how much it looked like we wouldn’t be.
“She’s strong,” Hassan said, his voice low and almost defensive. “She’ll pull through.”
“She’ll pull through better with the right care,” I countered, meeting his sideways glance with a steady look of my own. “We can’t lose her, Hassan. You know that.”
I let the words hang for a moment before adding, “And the De Lucas are stretched thin right now. Vito’s focus is on Miami. Naples gives us room to breathe, to plan. It’s the smart move.”
The car hummed along, the road stretching endlessly in front of us. Hassan’s silence was heavy, but I could see him wrestling with the logic. He wasn’t good at giving up control, but he wasn’t reckless, either.
Finally, he exhaled sharply, his fingers loosening their death grip on the wheel. “Fine,” he said, the word dripping with reluctance. “We go to Naples. But if things go south—”
“We’ll adapt,” I finished, leaning back in my seat. “Like we always do.”
He turned on the radio, the soft buzz of static and faint music filling the air. It wasn’t much, but it broke the tension. I let my head rest against the seat and watched the darkened landscape blur past the window.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Hassan glance at me. His expression was still hard, but his voice softened just enough to catch me off guard. “I trust you.”
I didn’t say anything at first. Trust was a big word coming from him, one that carried more weight than he’d probably admit. Finally, I nodded. “Good,” I said, looking back out at the road. “Then trust me when I say we’re going to make it out of this.”
Hassan didn’t reply, but his grip on the wheel eased, and for the first time that night, the silence between us didn’t feel so heavy. As the car ate up the miles toward Naples, I glanced back at SJ, his tiny chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm. Whatever was waiting for us, I wasn’t going to let anything happen to him—or to Justice.
And I was never going to let anything happen to Skylar. I needed to see him. I needed to touch him, hold him in my arms. I needed to make sure he was okay.
I wouldn’t let Hassan down, either. Not this time. Never again.
As the miles passed, the dense forests gave way to the outskirts of Naples. The landscape shifted to small clusters of houses and empty streets, the quiet growing heavier with every block. My gaze never left the windows, scanning for anything out of place. Every shadow felt like a threat, every flicker of movement set my nerves on edge.
“It looks quiet,” I said, though I wasn’t sure if I believed it.
“Too quiet,” Hassan muttered, his eyes flicking from one side of the road to the other. “You sure the safehouse is still secure?”
I nodded, though doubt churned in my gut. “It should be,” I said. “But we’ll know for sure once we’re inside.”
SJ stirred in the backseat, letting out a soft sound before settling again. Hassan glanced at him in the rearview mirror, his usually hardened features softening for a moment. “He’s been a trooper,” he said. “Not a single cry, even with all of this.”
I turned to look at the baby, a faint smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. “I think the drive is lulling him to sleep.”
Hassan didn’t respond, but I could see his jaw relax slightly. Despite everything, SJ had a way of grounding us both, reminding us of what mattered most. He always had, ever since he had come into our lives. And we had done our best to protect him—but fuck, it had been so hard. His grandfather had made it so hard.
The safehouse came into view as we turned a corner, its unremarkable exterior blending seamlessly with the quiet neighborhood. My heart picked up, and I scanned every window, every shadow, for signs of trouble.
Hassan slowed the car to a crawl, his body tense with readiness. “We’re close,” he said, his voice low.
“We don’t know who might be watching,” I replied, already calculating our next steps. “We need to get in and out fast.”
The car rolled to a stop at the curb, and Hassan killed the engine. The two of us sat in silence, our eyes darting to every corner of the street. In the backseat, SJ whimpered softly, but it was a small, fleeting sound.
“You ready?” Hassan asked, his voice steady.
I nodded, my hand already on the door handle. “Let’s go.”
We exited the car in unison, moving with practiced efficiency. Hassan took the lead, his broad frame tense as he scanned the area. I fell into step behind him, my eyes locked on the front door of the safehouse.
As we approached, my pulse quickened. I didn’t know what we’d find inside—or who. All I could do was hope that Justice, Skylar and Bash were waiting for us, safe and alive.
The car ticked to a stop outside the safehouse, its engine cooling in the heavy silence. The building looked just as I remembered—unremarkable, designed to blend in with the quiet neighborhood. The lone street lamp out front cast long, jagged shadows across the yard, adding an eerie edge to the already tense atmosphere.
Hassan killed the lights and glanced over at me. “We made it,” he said, his deep voice steady, though I could hear the tension beneath it.
I didn’t respond. My focus was locked on the safehouse, my heart pounding in my chest. Fear and hope waged a quiet war inside me. Were they alive? Injured? Were Skylar and Justice inside, waiting for us? How bad was Justice’s injury?
The uncertainty gnawed at me, fraying the edges of my usually steady resolve.
Hassan sighed, the sound heavy with unspoken worry, and pushed his door open. The quiet creak of the hinges cut through the night. I followed his lead, stepping out into the cool air, my senses on high alert. My eyes swept the perimeter, scanning for anything out of place. The street was silent, but I knew better than to trust appearances. Danger had a way of hiding in the quietest corners.
“Let’s not get SJ out yet,” I said. “Let me scope the place out first.”
Hassan nodded. “You got it.”
Every step I took toward the front door felt heavier than the last. My legs felt like lead, my mind racing with possibilities—worst-case scenarios I couldn’t seem to shake. I thought of Hassan, but my thoughts always circled back to Skylar and Justice. This could be the moment everything shattered.
I raised a hand to knock, but before I could, the door swung open. Skylar stood there, his piercing blue eyes locking onto mine. I froze, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between us like a physical barrier.
Then, as if a cord snapped, Skylar lunged forward, pulling me into a fierce embrace. For a moment, I was too stunned to move, but then my arms wrapped around him, holding on like my life depended on it. His scent—something sharp, clean, and unmistakably him—flooded my senses. Relief hit me like a tidal wave, and I gripped his back tightly, my hands trembling.
“Thank God,” I whispered into his ear, my voice cracking. “Thank God you’re okay.”
Skylar pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, his expression softening in a way I rarely saw. “We’re okay for now,” he said, his voice rough with exhaustion. Despite everything, there was affection in his gaze, a reassurance I desperately needed.
I nodded, studying him for a moment. He looked worn—his hair disheveled, his sharp features etched with fatigue, scrapes all over him—but alive. That was all that mattered. I glanced over my shoulder to see Hassan lingering near the car, watching us. He didn’t move, his broad frame silhouetted against the streetlamp’s dim light, his expression unreadable.
“We need to get inside,” I said, though I made no move to let go of Skylar.
Skylar followed my gaze to Hassan. “Come on,” he said, stepping aside and gesturing for us to enter. “It’s safe—for now. Is SJ in the car?”
“Yes,” I said.
Hassan leaned in and picked up a sleeping SJ, who nestled against Hassan’s shoulder. He approached the door slowly, his eyes sweeping the street one last time before he stepped past Skylar. The three of us stood there for a beat, the unspoken weight of everything we’d been through pressing down on us. The quiet was thick, but it wasn’t awkward—it was loaded with shared history, with trust and tension in equal measure.
“Thank you,” Skylar said, his sharp blue eyes meeting Hassan’s steady gaze.
“Where’s Justice?”
“Inside.”
Hassan gave a small nod, his expression calm but reserved as he handed me the baby. “I’ll get the bags,” he said, his voice clipped, before turning back toward the car.
I opened my mouth to protest, but Hassan was already walking away, his movements deliberate and unhurried. Skylar shut the door behind us softly, leaving just the two of us in the dimly lit foyer.
“We were worried,” I said, the words coming out quieter than I’d intended.
Skylar’s eyes softened further. “I know,” he said simply. “But we’re all here now.”
Our gazes held for a moment, the silence stretching out between us. I didn’t need words to tell him how much it meant to see him alive, how much I needed him to be okay. He gave me a faint nod, as if to say he understood, and then turned, gesturing for me to follow him deeper into the safehouse.
“You’re okay, then?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said. “But Justice is hurt. And if something happens to her…I don’t know, Zane. I don’t know how any of us will be okay ever again.”