“What?” was all I managed to say, hearing Weston draw in a sharp, surprised intake of breath next to me.
“I’m not as ignorant as you believe, Caiden.” With those words, he climbed into his car, wasting no time in starting the engine, before backing out of the space. He left us with a toot of his car horn, leaving us staring after him open-mouthed.
“What the fuck?” Weston eventually said.
“Yeah.” What the fuck, indeed.
That wasn’t the only shock of the evening.
SIXTEEN
What did my dad know? I sat in the lounge, sharing a joint with Winter, everyone talking at once. Whatever it was, he hadn’t seemed angry or stressed, so I was pretty sure he had no clue about Christine’s plotting against him.
“Christine’s car’s on the move,” Weston suddenly said, holding up his phone. “Where’s she going this time? It’s late.”
Yeah, it was fucking late, and there could only be one reason she’d be heading out at this time of night. She wasn’t going to slip through my fingers again.
“I’m going after her.” I stood, and my girl immediately jumped to her feet.
“I’m coming, too.”
“No, you’re not.” I slid my hands up her arms, gripping her chin and rubbing across her pulse point. “You’re staying here. No arguments.”
“But—”
I slanted my mouth across hers, kissing her protests away. “No, baby.” I softened my voice. “Please.”
She stared at me, but resignation entered her gaze when she saw how deadly serious I was. “Fine, but stay safe. Please.”
“Always.” I kissed the tip of her nose and gently pushed her back down onto the sofa. She picked up the joint and took a long drag, still looking unhappy.
My eyes moved to Cassius, and he nodded, understanding me instantly, moving across to Winter. “I got those notes from Professor Mulligan. Wanna go through them with me?”
Looking between us, her eyes narrowed, and then she shrugged, lifting the joint in the air.
“I didn’t understand them the first time, but maybe this will help.”
“Doubt it will, babe, but let’s give it a go.” He fished around in the bag at the side of the sofa, pulling out his laptop. I left them to it, my attention returning to the immediate situation.
“We’ll take the bike.” Z was already standing by the door. “West, do that shit with the GPS so I can follow her.”
Weston nodded, tapping at his phone screen. “Take the drone with you,” he suggested. “Just in case. I charged it this morning.”
Good idea.
After a quick detour to grab the drone, I was jamming the bike helmet on my head and climbing on the back, and we shot away from the house, hot on Christine’s tail. Luck was on our side, for fucking once. She was passing near our house, and we were only around five minutes behind her.
Zayde slung the bike into the turns, and I leaned with him on autopilot, my mind racing, adrenaline pumping through my body. Whatever was going on, it couldn’t be good.
We slowed down as we entered Highnam. I knew where she was heading, and so did Z. The Crown and Anchor.
Zayde pulled off the road before the car park, turning the bike into a narrow alleyway, bumping it over the rough cobbled surface. He came to a stop in a small area filled with huge rubbish bins and piles of wooden pallets, easing the bike into a shadowed corner.
“We’ll leave the bike here and sneak around the building.”
I nodded, climbing off the bike, focused on our mission, alert to our surroundings. We moved stealthily around the side of the hotel, silent shadows in the night.
I halted, hearing the sound of voices.