Chapter 54 Sloane
Sloane
Zeth sleeps on the floor, On the other side of the room, about as far away from me as he can get.
I know he’s unconscious from the slow pull and draw of his breathing, deep and regular.
I, on the other hand, cannot sleep. Tonight didn’t pan out the way I expected it to.
I saw a side of Zeth that terrified me. He also made me feel like an asshole for holding him accountable for Alexis’s time here at the Talons compound.
To be honest, I hadn’t realized that I was blaming him.
Not until I went and hung out with those girls.
After some initial awkwardness, they were sweet and seemed happy, but their lives aren’t what I pictured for Alexis.
She wanted to study psychology. She wanted to create beautiful art for people.
Instead, she’s probably been drinking herself into oblivion just so she can forget what happens to her body afterward.
God, why did I think that? The idea of it makes me feel sick.
I need a coffee. I need Pip. I need the safe little bubble I’ve created for myself back in Seattle, but there is no bubble anymore.
It’s well and truly popped, and I’ll probably wind up dead if I go back there now.
I have no idea when I’ll even be able to go home. Or if.
I pull out my cell phone from underneath my pillow, needing to do something. I automatically head to the messages app and hit compose.
Me:
You awake? I need a mental assessment.
A few moments later:
Pippa:
Yeah. As if I would EVER be asleep at 2 a.m. What’s up? Your vacation not as relaxing as you imagined? Book a massage with a hot guy. That’ll fix everything.
I hate that I’ve lied to Pippa about my sudden disappearance, but she would have a fit if she knew where I really was. And who I was with. And what I was planning on doing. All of it, basically. The whole arrangement would make her head explode.
Me:
A massage! Yes! Totally planning on one of those. But as for relaxing…
Pippa:
Yeah, yeah. I know why you can’t sleep. And you know I don’t approve.
Me:
I can’t help it.
Pippa:
Find someone else to distract you. Flirt with a Hawaiian surfer.
Me:
And if I don’t want a Hawaiian surfer?
I can’t type the next part. To actually admit it to myself. What if I only want him?
Pippa:
Then we’re all doomed.
Pippa:
Look, don’t worry. In the end, as much as I don’t like it, I’ll support you no matter what. But he doesn’t deserve you, Sloane. He is no good for you. That’s it. I won’t say it again. Just try and get some sleep, okay?
I spend the next half an hour clutching my phone, wondering if she’s right.
Am I doomed if I go down this path? He said it himself.
There’s no fixing him. And if he hadn’t told me about Eli and his plans for me, would I be feeling this way right now?
Would I still want to get out of this bed and go and curl up next to him on the floor?
God, why can’t I just be honest with myself ?
Yes, I would want that. I would. I’ve wanted to be that way with him for a while now.
And now that things are a little clearer…
Hah! The ridiculousness of that thought catches me off guard. Yeah, things are as clear as mud.
I tuck myself into a ball, hugging my knees to my chest. I need sleep.
Pippa’s right about that. I close my eyes and try to make myself pass out, but it’s no good.
Especially when the bed begins to shake.
The sound starts as a rumble, out in the desert.
It grows quickly, louder, deeper, more resonant. Thunder?
“Open the gate!”
“Fucking move, dumbass! They’re here!”
Outside, shouts echo into the night. I climb out of bed, pushing the blinds down, and find that the window pane is buzzing in the frame, distorting the view.
I see enough, though.
Motorbikes.
Scores of them stream through the open gate into the compound, so many of them that I lose count. The sleek black machines snarl like mad animals as the sound of raucous laughter fills the courtyard. Jesus Christ. My pulse pounds like a drum beneath my skin.
“Rebel. That’s his crew.” The timbre of Zeth’s voice is as deep and menacing as the bikes’ engines. He watches me from his makeshift bed on the floor, his chest bathed in the bright white light from the bikes’ headlights cutting through the window.
“Who’s Rebel?”
Zeth closes his eyes. “Someone very bad. Someone you do not want to know.”