CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
*Lace*
Zane enters the room, his wide eyes scanning the disaster I made. “What happened?” he asks, calm and collected.
But I can do nothing, say nothing, be nothing more than a naked corpse sitting on the end of the disheveled mattress, the assignment heavy as a brick between my fingers.
Zane walks out of the room, comes back a moment later, and sits beside me. He gently takes the paper out of my hands, sets it aside without even looking at it, then slowly puts my shirt over my head, threading my limp arms through the holes and settling it over my body before wrapping his arm around me.
I cry.
And cry.
And cry.
And cry.
When Zane is unable to deal with it anymore, he picks up the paper, glances at it, then puts it back down again. “Why are you upset?” he asks carefully, nudging my chin up with his finger.
My instincts do a complete flip flop. I bound to my feet, scramble for the knife that fell out of the boot along with the evidence, open it just like Kio taught me how to do a couple years ago, then jab the tip toward Zane, fully prepared to use it. “Did you know about the hit on my father?”
He picks up the paper again. “This? Was this your father?” he asks, the pink color in his cheeks going pallid.
“What do you know?” I growl through my teeth, shaking my head.
He sighs, teeth grinding, then looks at me and says, “Nothing. I have been with you pretty much since Coty sent me to Tit for Tat last night. Even then I had no clue what was going on; I was just doing what I was told.”
Pacing, never once looking anywhere but at his face, I explain. “Vee and Brodi were supposed to kill the person on that sheet” — I indicate at the paper beside him with another jab of my knife — “but someone on the inside swapped it, and they killed my dad instead. Kal took my sister and made me commit to figuring out which of his men get the guillotine. One day is all he gave me.” I wave around the room with my knife hand. “I was getting desperate. The docket fell out of Kio’s boot.”
“The original assignment? Kal suspects a snake inside his club? Maybe that is what the meeting they’re having tonight is about.” The last part is mumbled under his breath as a helpfully revealing addition to his train of thought.
I nod and finally look away from him, fighting back more tears, but then I force myself to act right, storm forward, snatch up the paper — using the knife threateningly to keep Zane away from me — and storm out of the room.
“I need some fresh air and a moment alone,” I announce over my shoulder. When he gives me a nod of approval, like a heartless, soulless zombie, I trudge through the condo toward the front door.
When I found the docket, before I went numb, I had enough sense to make a single phone call.
My train ticket away from here.
Or, more fittingly, motorcycle.