her. In the meantime, we’ll be focusing on our other goal.
“Francesca and Rocco are slimy little snakes,” Daya informs us, ire in her glare as her fingers fly over the keyboard. “And Xavier is a pussy.”
Daya is assisting us with tracking down my former captors—and rapists—
while Jay continues to focus on Claire.
“Satellite image showed a red pickup truck parked in their driveway under Rocco’s name. That hasn’t been seen anywhere?” Zade asks, adding extra shredded cheddar on the mac ‘n’ cheese before sticking the casserole dish back
in the oven to crisp. Seeing him doing something so domestic is… odd.
I never thought I’d see oven mitts on a stalker and professional killer, but here we are… All he needs is an apron, and I’d be convinced I’ve fallen down the rabbit hole and hit my head on a tree root.
Shit, I think I already have because now all I can imagine is Zade in nothing
but an apron. That… shouldn't be enticing, yet it is.
“We found the truck abandoned in Northern California. From there, we lost track,” Daya answers, unknowingly saving me from traveling down that dangerous road. I have a feeling that fantasy would've only gotten weirder.
“No street cams nearby?” I ask.
“Nope,” she replies, popping the P. “They haven’t made it this long by dumb
luck. They know how to avoid cameras. I imagine the car they switched to has
also been abandoned by now.”
Zade nods, keeping silent as he processes the information. From here, I can see his inner gears turning.
“Since we can assume they’re driving, look at cameras in gas stations in the
surrounding area to start with. It’ll take time but check in on anyone you deem
suspicious. It’s possible that they will stay hidden in the car and use a decoy to
pump and pay. I’ll get a few more of my men on it to help you. And while they’re probably paying in cash only, it doesn’t hurt to check if they used credit cards as well.”
“Francesca is eventually going to have to use the bathroom,” I chip in. “I mean, I honestly can’t see her squatting on the side of the road or using a porta-potty. So facial recognition would be valuable.”
“It would,” Zade agrees, shooting me a small smile. I wrestle down the pride
that wants to bloom throughout my body. My inner feminist doesn’t need no man’s approval.
“You can set up a facial recognition bot that’ll alert you if any cameras spot
her. Whether it’s from restaurants, stores, or gas stations. We can’t rely on it, though, because while Francesca is the one most likely to appear in public, she also has the advantage of disguising herself better than men. Facial recognition
is advanced, but it’s not foolproof.”
I tip my head side to side in a you have a point gesture. “If anyone knows how to use makeup, it’s her,” I concede. She’s had a lot of practice bringing the dead to life—with her own face and with the girls she held captive.
Daya’s hands continue to fly, following Zade’s directions without hesitation.
Sibby has her chin in one hand and drums her fingers on the table with the other—clearly bored. Her interests lie more in taking action than the planning aspect.
“I’ll track down Xavier Delano,” Zade says, shooting a loaded glance my
way. “We should be able to find him easily. I have a good feeling he’s not as smart about covering his tracks as the others.”
“That’d be awfully egotistical of him. It’s not like he didn’t know that I was… uh, with Z… or whatever.” Zade smirks over my stumble. I roll my eyes, intent on ignoring him, but then Daya betrays me and snorts, flicking her gaze at
me with amusement.
Assholes.
The lot of them.
“Shut up,” I snap. “I don’t know what to label it.”
“Fuck buddy?” Daya provides, but that doesn’t sound quite right. The brow cocked on Zade’s forehead tells me he feels the same.
“Lover!” Sibby chips in cheerfully.
My lip curls in disgust. Hate that label.
“Oh, admirer,” Daya says, snapping her fingers as if she hit the nail on the head.
“One true love,” Sibby sighs wistfully. She glances off to the side, seeming to
listen to something before she rolls her eyes. “Okay, five true loves.”
My eyes pinball between the two idiots as they continue to toss out words that
could define mine and Zade’s relationship.
“How about just stalker,” I cut in dryly.
“Come on, baby, that’s not what you were calling me when you were screa
—”
“Shut up, or I’ll start screaming other men’s names and I promise I don’t need your dick anywhere near me to do it.”
Challenge sparks in his eyes, signaling that this conversation is quickly taking
a nosedive.
“You really want to cause mass extinction for those names? Moan them, little
mouse, I dare you. Whichever ones you choose, not a single man by that name
will fucking exist anymore. How about we start with Chad? We can definitely live without the Chads in the world.”
My mouth pops open. “That is so… excessive.”
He shrugs, turning to take the mac ‘n’ cheese out of the oven, “Doesn’t change a damn thing.”
My wide eyes drift back down to Daya’s, hers equally as rounded as mine. I
give her a look that says, you see what I have to deal with? in which she returns,
good luck, Sister Susie.
I look at Sibby and find her staring off into space, whispering to one of her
henchmen about unsanitary ways to use the popsicles in the freezer.
Oh my God. I’m living with nothing but psychopaths.
I knew this but fuck me.
Hey, God? Do ya mind sending down some medication to correct your gross
mishandling of these two demented souls?
Shaking my head, I turn to Zade, who is now serving the mac ‘n’ cheese on
plates for us, alongside the steaks he cooked on the grill. Something I was surprised to learn—Zade can fucking cook.
“How long do you think it’ll take to locate Xavier?”
“It depends on how accessible he is. I may find him within an hour, but if he’s
stationed on a remote island with an army surrounding him, it’ll take time to get
to him. Keep in mind that this man is stupid rich and has nothing better to spend