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 would like 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’s Wesley?” 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.”
“I think the name Wesley is pretty … compared to mine,” Milk said.
“What’s yours?” I asked, angling my body to look at the back seat.
“Typical name … very common,” she said.
“Still wanna hear it,” Dog said, watching her.
She sucked in a breath. “It’s Penelope. Last name’s Canavan.”
“You look like a Penelope, unlike Wes,” Devil said.
“I swear to God, Devil. I swear to God.”
“Penelope is a beautiful name,” I said.
“I agree, it is not bad, dear Pen,” Upper said, lightly tapping her head.
She grinned.
Dog didn’t comment on her name.
“I’ll go next,” Upper said, clearing his throat and rubbing his hands together.
“I’m Archibald Avington Otto Farraday, the fourth—or fifth, I can’t be sure …
I didn’t stay in the palace long enough to study the family history books before I was booted out, so I don’t know exactly how many Archibald Avington Otto Farradays there were before me. ”
“I can’t remember anything you just said,” Dog voiced.
“Me neither,” I admitted.
Laughing, Upper relaxed on his seat. “My name’s Archie.”
“I knew,” Devil said, looking out the window.
“How?” Upper asked.
Devil’s response was a shrug, and that was that. He wasn’t divulging how he knew. “Everyone knows my last name. My first name’s Elia.”
“That sounds like a girl’s name. Like the female version of Elio,” Dog said.
Devil groaned and gritted out, “It’s unisex.”
“Your father was cruel,” Dog said.
“He disowned me when I was six. Right after killing my mother in front of me. Cruel doesn’t do him justice,” Devil said, bringing a bit of silence.
I broke the silence with a clearing of my throat.
“Well…” I spoke, quickly calculating the consequences of what I was about to reveal.
But Elio’s people knew it and still didn’t know me.
I was also positive Devil and Dog hadn’t caught on to Chika using my last name after he had us on the school bus.
“My name’s Zahra. Zahra Faizan.”
I caught the instant freeze in Devil’s shoulders.
I stopped short when he looked at me, and I caught the recognition in his eyes; his brows were furrowed just a bit as he observed me like I had spoken a lie that would fuck up this version of me in his mind if it were true.
I didn’t back down from the stare, but he looked away first.
Did not utter a word.
He knows something.
“You look like both your names,” Dog said.
“Yeah,” Milk agreed.
“It’s pretty,” Upper said.
I took my eyes off Devil and met Upper’s gaze with a smile.
“There’s just something—”
Three audible knocks from the driver’s side window had us shouting and jumping in fright.
My hand was already on my chest as I snapped my head to see the blond standing there, trying to look in.
“Motherfucker.” Dog released a breath upon seeing her.
And so did everyone, collectively.
“Didn’t mean to scare! Can you guys—wind down?” Her muffled voice reached us.
Devil looked at me, the previous suspicion in his eyes long gone. Concern was all that remained there now. “Should I?”
I looked back at the blond, knowing she couldn’t see us.
Cracking my knuckles, I sucked in a breath, trying to calm the hard thumping in my chest as I nodded. “Yes,” I said, putting on my mean face. “Wind down.”