Chapter 11

The drive home is painfully silent.

The window is down, letting the sharp bite of the night air lash against our skin, but Vaughn does not flinch. His grip on the steering wheel is firm, too firm, his knuckles white as bone, his jaw locked so tightly I can see the muscle flex each time his teeth clench.

I turn away from him, burying myself deeper into the seat as I stare blankly out at the blur of passing streetlights. The rush of alcohol has long worn off, leaving only the weight of dread pressing into my chest like a stone. I curl up tighter, pulling Vaughn's jacket around me like armor. The scent of his cologne clings to the fabric, but it does little to comfort me.

Savannah is slumped in the backseat, completely passed out. Vaughn carried her to the car, bridal style, after she stumbled out of the club barely able to stand. Now she lies motionless, lost in the haze of too many drinks and careless words.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, barely audible over the wind.

"Sorry, Zuri?" Vaughn's voice cuts through the silence, low but laced with fury. "Is that what you have to say?" He doesn't raise his voice. He doesn't have to. Every syllable is weighted with the severity of what just happened. "She revealed your fucking identity."

I flinch, eyes squeezing shut as realization digs into me like nails. My stomach churns. I still haven't fully processed it. One second, I am dancing, kissing Vaughn, floating. The next, I am drowning.

It is a rookie mistake, going out like that. Letting my guard down. Drinking too much. Forgetting, even for a second, what is at stake.

"I know, but it doesn't matter anyway. It's just a first name. I've been using aliases since I started going on missions. You know this," I try to reason.

"Zuri, sometimes it's better to take precautions. Don't you think hearing a different name might make him start questioning things? Ask questions? Why would someone call you Zuri if your name is Allesha? Think about that." He huffs. "The fact is, you shouldn't have gone out with Savannah while on this mission. Makai Huxley owns that club."

My heart stops cold. "Stop acting like you're not the one who scanned that fucking membership card. Why the hell did you take us there if it was his club? Do you think I'm stupid?"

"Stop raising your voice," he demands. "Are you questioning my loyalty? Do you think I'm going behind your back and setting you up? Is that what you think, Zuri? Because I'd be screwing myself over too, considering I'm the one who forges your documents."

I turn to him, my voice caught between disbelief and betrayal. "Then answer me. Why take us there if you knew it was his club?"

He slams on the brakes, my seatbelt straining as I'm thrown forward. I glare at him, then check on Savannah, still asleep. Luckily, I strapped her in. Vaughn shoves the gear into park and rakes his hands through his hair, fingers clawing at his scalp.

"I'm not all-knowing, Zuri," he snaps. "I'm not the FBI. Obviously, I didn't know when I stole that membership card."

I snap back, my voice rising despite his warning. "Then maybe you should've been more careful. You lectured me, but this is your fault. I invited you, and you happily agreed, saying you knew somewhere. So if anyone's the problem, Vaughn, it's you."

He turns to me slowly, lips pressed into a hard line, jaw twitching as he reins in whatever anger is sitting at the edge of his tongue. He doesn't reply. Just puts the car in drive and continues on.

I glance over my shoulder at Savannah, still completely oblivious to the chaos she helped ignite.

"It could have been a nickname," I offer after a moment. "My facial features aren't even the same. The hair, the makeup, it's all different."

I've gotten work done on my nose, my eyes, my lips. Even changed the color of my skin sometimes. It's not easy to catch up with what I've structured. If it were, I wouldn't have survived this long.

Vaughn laughs, humorless. Calmer than before, but I know it's a mask. "How dumb do you think this man is? You're underestimating him. He runs a multi-billion dollar company at twenty-six. You think a fake name and a new face are enough to fool him? I'm sure he knows identity fraud and plastic surgery exist."

I bite down on my bottom lip, hard enough to taste blood. The metallic tang is bitter against my tongue, but it's better than the ache rising in my throat.

He's not wrong. And that only makes the dread sink deeper.

"I told you not to take this target," Vaughn says after a moment, softer now but no less firm. "I'm not trying to insult you, Zuri. But this is bigger than you. You're not equipped to handle something this deeply rooted."

I swallow hard, pushing past the lump in my throat. "How deeply rooted?" My voice cracks. "I know you're hiding something. So tell me."

We arrive at my building. I don't even realize it until the car stops in front of my apartment. Vaughn doesn't answer. He just steps out of the vehicle without looking back.

He opens the back door, unbuckles Savannah, and lifts her from the seat with ease, cradling her like she weighs nothing.

I grab our shoes and purses, silently stepping out before he locks the car behind us. He waits for me to walk ahead before following as we enter the building and head toward the elevator.

The ride up is silent. The kind of silence that screams.

When we finally step into the sanctuary of my penthouse, I guide him to Savannah's room. He lays her down carelessly, her limbs flopping onto the mattress like a doll tossed aside. I roll my eyes and tug the blanket over her before quietly closing the door.

"You can handle her with more care, you know. Just because you're pissed doesn't make it justified," I say, thinking he's by the door. But I exit the room to find that Vaughn is already by the elevator, hands by his sides, eyes burning a hole into the floor.

"Vaughn!" I call out, hurrying after him. "Don't you dare leave."

He throws his hands up, his voice sharp. "I don't know anything, okay? What do you want me to say? I told you this wasn't a good idea, and you treated me like I was being dramatic." His words sting. "If you just listened when I talked, we wouldn't be in this mess."

I stand frozen, staring at him. He can't be serious.

"So I'm just supposed to believe everything you say without proof? Suddenly you're warning me this mission is dangerous, but it doesn't even compare to threats I've faced before. Stop treating me like a child."

He tilts his head. "Then what the fuck do you need me for? If I can't advise you?"

"You're right. Maybe I don't need you," I say, clenching my fists. "Better yet, maybe you should leave. Since you're keeping secrets from me."

"You should seriously grow the fuck up," he mutters, barely surprised. "Years have passed, and you're still the same."

"Yeah? Guess who puts up with it anyway?" I snap. It's a low blow, but he deserves it.

The elevator dings and the doors slide open. Vaughn steps in, shaking his head with a low laugh.

And this is why we can never work. We are the weapons formed against each other. And frankly, we both could care less.