The Secrets We Hide (The Four #2) - Becca Steele Page 0,14
with the Four.
Dragging my attention from my phone screen, I focused on Weston as he showed me how to select and enlarge the various camera feeds, when his phone buzzed with a message. Glancing at it, his whole body tensed, and he leaned forwards, typing furiously on the keyboard until the image in front of him was replaced with a blank screen with a blinking cursor in the top right corner.
“What are you doing?”
He typed in a string of letters and symbols that made no sense to me, and a login screen appeared. “Dark web. Mercury wants to speak to me.”
Mercury. My heart skipped a beat, and I hoped with everything in me that this meant he had information for us.
“I might be a while. You wanna get a drink, or something?” He flashed me a quick smile, before returning his focus to the screen.
“Good idea.” I left him to it, knowing how engrossed he’d be and trusting him to update me with everything afterwards. Heading into the lounge, I picked up my own laptop and started working on an assignment I was partway through. I couldn’t concentrate, though. I’d been cooped up in this house for the past two days, and after I’d managed to write a grand total of five words after staring blankly at the screen for fifteen minutes, I closed the laptop lid with a bang.
I had to get out of here. Get some fresh air. Go somewhere.
“Winter.” Zayde appeared in the doorway, leaning on the wooden frame, the shiny red helmet I’d worn on his bike before dangling from his fingers. His voice was slightly muffled by the skull bandana covering his mouth, and I raised a brow. “Coming?” He threw the helmet to me, then strolled away without a backwards glance.
“Where are we going?” I jumped to my feet, hurrying after him, no idea where we were going, but the need to get out of the house overrode everything else. He didn’t answer me, of course, just stopped to grab his own helmet and leather jacket from next to the front door.
I picked up my jacket, zipping it up tightly and lifted the helmet to place it over my head. Then I remembered.
“Z?” He turned his head to face me, his gaze blank, as usual. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go on your bike. Um…the doctor said I shouldn’t do stuff like that until I was recovered.” He didn’t respond, and I hurried to continue. “I mean, I think I’m fine, now. I just… I probably shouldn’t risk it.”
His expression didn’t change, but he dropped the helmet he was holding onto the console table by the door, and swiped Caiden’s car keys from the hook on the wall. I followed his lead, placing my own helmet down, and heading out of the front door behind him.
Flying along the coast road in Caiden’s Audi R8, I felt the tension drain from me as I revelled in the feeling of freedom. Yeah, it was an illusion at best, but at this moment in time, I was making the most of it.
The car slowed as we neared a turning onto a small road that sloped down to a car park, next to a small sandy beach littered with pebbles. We came to a stop at the bottom, facing the road, and Zayde unclipped his seatbelt, turning to look out of the window. I followed suit, pushing my dark sunglasses up on top of my head.
“Now what?”
He remained facing the road. “We wait.”
Exiting the R8, I took a seat on the low stone wall that edged the car park, dangling my feet over the edge, watching the sea lapping against the rocks. I’d only ever seen it angrily clashing against the cliff face—here, though, it felt calmer, less deadly. I turned to watch Zayde as he climbed out of the car, then prowled around aimlessly, kicking up dust and small stones with his boots, his bandana pulled down and a joint dangling from his lips.
His head shot up as the low purr of an engine sounded, and I followed his line of sight, spinning to face the road as a large black SUV rumbled down the slope and came to a stop in front of him.
The passenger window rolled down, and Zayde flicked away the stub of his joint, grinding the remains under his boot, and leaned into the car, effectively blocking my view before I could catch a glimpse of the occupants.