guy rolls his eyes. “That’s not how this works, lady.”
I dig into my purse, letting out an exaggerated sigh, careful to keep the gun concealed. “I don’t have time for your bullshit. Here’s money. I need a ride to a friend’s house in the Hidden Hills.”
He pauses, taking in my tattered appearance and the cash. After a few beats, he shrugs. “Fine. Get in.”
My mind is whirring the entire way to Zach’s house. It’s gloomy out in LA today. The smog intermingling with the impending rainy forecast cast the sky in a gray blanket that leaves a permanent chill in my bones. It’s a direct reflection of my mood.
With traffic, we make it there in under two hours. Much like last time, to avoid rousing suspicion, I have the driver drop me off a block away. I walk down the street, steering clear of Zach’s house. Opting to take a detour before I end up on his doorstep, I decide to rest at a small park a few blocks away. Taking a seat on the bench, I scroll through more articles, trying to figure out if I’m making the right choice by being here.
Is this a sound decision?
It’s obvious I’m putting myself in danger by coming here. Even more dangerous is that I brought a gun with me, but a large part of me feels like I need it for protection, now more than ever. My heart lurches when Baz’s name flashes across my phone’s screen. He’s calling me. He never calls me. I dart my gaze around, suddenly feeling like I’m being watched. It’s like he knows I’m here. Feeling like the worst human on the planet, I power my phone off, just in case he somehow finds a way to track my phone. I honestly wouldn’t put it past him.
As I sit here, I keep going back and forth with myself. I promised him I wouldn’t do anything stupid. Things were so good between us the night of the gala, and that phone call ruined it.
Why can’t he just tell me the truth? Why does there always have to be secrets between us?
And why don’t I have the courage to ask him? That snarky voice in the back of my head pipes in.
He claims I’m the liar out of the two of us, but I’m starting to get the impression Baz isn’t as forthcoming as he wants me to believe. With my gaze glued to the grass, I sit on the bench for God knows how long. It’s enough time that the sky begins to darken even farther, and a rumble of thunder booms in the distance. A trickle of water splashes on my head, and when I tip my head back, looking up at the gray cloud-filled sky, I feel more splashes.
It’s now or never.
With my heart in my throat, I pause in front of Zach’s house. Part of me wonders if I should use the front door and hope he answers it or try to get in the same way I did last time. Breaking and entering. Something tells me it won’t be as easy this time around. He doesn’t seem like the type of man who would let someone break into his home twice. Not without consequences.
Making up my mind, I sneak around the back, just like I did with Jack. I glance over my shoulder, the rain pouring now. Thankfully, the trees and the side paneling of his house shield me from the sheets of rain. Keeping my purse tucked close to my body, I stay low, trying to keep an eye on the house. It’s dark with no movement inside. He still has those blackout blinds, making it hard to see inside, but none of the windows at the top of his house are illuminated with light, telling me he’s probably not here.
I rest my back against the side of the house, trying to steady my pounding heart. I don’t know what I’m doing here. This could get me in more trouble with the law if I break in again.
“What do I do? What do I do?” I whisper to myself. Slamming my eyes shut, I wait for the answer to come to me. When it does, my eyes spring open.
“Go home, Kenzie. This isn’t you.”
Pushing off the side paneling of the house, I trudge back the way I came, deciding to go back to the penthouse. Deep down, I know I shouldn’t be here. Madison is right. This isn’t me.
Keeping my head