Collateral(2)

“Sloane? Are you listening? Which line are you going to catch?” Zeth’s gravel-filled voice interrupts my thoughts, demanding I concentrate.

“The 458. I get off at the university and change over. I meet you guys at Fresco’s, and then we get the hell out of there.”

Zeth grunts, chewing on his bottom lip. I’ve never seen him do that before. His shoulder muscles are so tense they’re even giving me a headache. “And what are you going to tell her?” he asks. “What are you going to tell Lowell?”

I play the script out in my head, making sure I’ve got it all memorized. Not hard, really, when Rebel wants me to tell the truth. “I don’t know where my sister is. Rebel, on the other hand, is waiting at an undisclosed location for her guarantee she’s going to do as we ask, at which point he will hand himself over into her custody. I get the paperwork, including a decree from a county court judge clearing you, Michael and me of any and all charges against us, and then I tell her where he is.”

Zeth exhales down his nose, nodding sharply. “Fucking stupid idea,” he says under his breath. I think it’s a fucking stupid idea, too, but then again we’re bang out of options. “Just make sure you get through this, all right?” Zeth tells me under his breath.

I raise an eyebrow at him, feeling slightly victorious. “Why? Are you worried?” I tease him, even though I shouldn’t. He gives me a flat look out of the corner of his eye.

“Am I worried?” He laughs softly, and it’s not a humorous laugh; it’s a pained one. “I’m fucking shitting myself, Sloane. There’s no reason why this bitch won’t just arrest you and use you as leverage. She’s smart. She knows if she has you, she’ll have a huge bargaining chip.”

“Yes, but it’s not like you’re stupid. You wouldn’t just go charging down there on a rescue mission. You wouldn’t just hand yourself over if she did that. It would be pointless, her just arresting me.” Silence falls over the car, and my heartbeat thrums in my ears. Zeth clenches his jaw again and a sick sensation washes over me. “Zeth? You wouldn’t do that,” I say.

He doesn’t flinch. “Wouldn’t I?”

I swivel around, wrestling against the seatbelt so I can face him. “No, you would not. I seriously doubt Lowell’s going to pull anything like that. She knows she’ll never get Rebel if she does. Either way, if things get messy, you and Michael must go and find Lacey. That’s what you do. You do not hand yourself over just to free me. I can handle a couple of nights in a cell. She can’t realistically keep me any longer than that.” Zeth makes a choking sound in the back of his throat; I ball up my hand into a fist and pound it against his arm. “What, you don’t think I can handle a few nights in a jail cell? I can. I will if I have to.”

Zeth reaches up and removes the aviators so he can look me in the eye. I can see the anger he’s battling to tamp down inside himself. “You will never need to spend the night in a cell on my account, Sloane. Never. I’ll die before I let that happen.” He blows out a frustrated breath and goes back to glaring out the window. My stomach churns like it’s filled with battery acid. I feel a little stupid. Zeth spent time in prison. He spent countless nights in a cell, probably locked up with a complete psycho, with nothing but time on his hands and no way out. He knows what it means to be shut away from the world, how awful it must be, and here’s me making light of it. Making out like I could hack it, when I honestly doubt I could.

“Sorry,” I whisper. “I wasn’t thinking.”

Zeth doesn’t say anything for a moment. He drives, eyes forward, tattooed forearms corded with rigid muscle. And then he takes a breath and says something that breaks my heart. “I want to make you happy, Sloane. I want to keep you safe. This life isn’t what you deserve. Risking your freedom to find my sister and help Rebel—that isn’t something you should ever have to consider doing. So yeah, if Lowell does arrest you, the very first fucking thing I’m gonna do is hand myself over. Rebel, too. I’ll hand over anyone she fucking wants in a motherfucking heartbeat. Because there is no way I’m going to allow you to be put in danger or discomfort, to be locked up with hookers and crack addicts, if there’s a single thing within my power I can do to prevent it. Not for one minute, Sloane. Not for one fucking second.”

I don’t really know what to say to that. It’s madness he would do that, but that’s not the reason I’m stunned. I’m stunned because of the passion in his voice. The determination in his eyes. He’s never spoken to me like that before. I want to make you happy, Sloane. I want to keep you safe.