<b>Chapter </b><b>208 </b>
Jade’s POV:
:
<b>86 </b>
The doorbell echoed through my house. Ryan, who had been reading on the couch, immediately tensed, his hand moving to the weapon concealed at his ankle. Zach, who’d been meticulously cleaning a knife at the kitchen counter, paused mid–motion.
“That’ll be Max,” I said, emerging from my bedroom. “My brother’s back from Cloud City.”
For days, Zach had been asking about Max. I’d watched his curiosity grow with each passing hour, like a predator circling unknown territory. Now he was about to meet the person I’d assigned him to protect.
I opened the door to reveal a slender young man with intelligent eyes behind wire–rimmed sses. Max was sixteen, with a quiet intensity that made most people underestimate him.
“Hey, sis,” Max said, then froze when he spotted Zach and Ryan. His eyes darted between the strangers, then back to me. “Did I… walk into the wrong house?”
He checked the house number behind him, then frowned. “No, this is definitely your ce.”
“You’re in the right ce,” I assured him.
Max’s eyes settled on Zach, who was studying him with unsettling intensity. “You are…?”
Zach didn’t answer, just continued his silent assessment.
Ryan stepped forward, breaking the awkward silence. “You must be Max. We’re friends of your sister, staying here for a couple days.”
‘I brought you something,” Max said to me, holding up a white bakery box. “Cloud City Donuts. From that ce you used to like.”
I took the box and opened it. The sweet<b>, </b>sugary scent filled the entryway, I took a small bite of one donut and frowned slightly. “They changed the recipe.<b>” </b>
“Really? They taste the same to me.” Max looked disappointed.
Zach reached over and grabbed one without asking. He took arge bite, chewing thoughtfully. “These are good.”
I shot him a look. “Help yourself, why don’t you?<b>” </b>
“I did,” Zach replied without a hint of irony, taking another bite.
After getting Max settled in, I pulled Zach aside in the kitchen. “So? What do you think of my brother?<b>” </b>
<b>7:59 </b><b>Fri</b><b>, </b><b>Sep </b><b>26 </b><b>T </b>
…
:
<b>86 </b>
Zach wiped sugar from his lips with the back <b>of </b>his hand. “What’s hisbat experience? Can he handle firearms?”
“Jesus, Zach,” I muttered. “Come on, let’s eat.”
Later, Max cornered me in the upstairs hallway while Ryan and Zach were upied downstairs.
“Who are those guys really?” Max asked, his voice low. “They don’t look like tourists.”
I leaned against the wall. “Just some friends passing through Princeton.”
“Friends who look like they know fifty ways to kill someone with a paperclip?” Max raised an eyebrow. <b>“</b>Come on,
sis<b>.</b>”
I sighed. The truth was that Ryan and Zach were there to protect Max from potential Shadow Organization agents, but I wasn’t about to burden my brother with that knowledge.
“Here,” I said instead, pulling two gift cards from my pocket. “One’s from me, one’s from Ethan.”
Max’s eyebrows shot up. “Mr. Haxton sent me a gift card?” He studied both cards, then looked up at me. “Are you and Mr. Haxton… you know, official now?”
I nced at the cards in his hand. “Just take them.” I reached into my other pocket and pulled out a sleek watch. “This is waterproof. You can wear it in the shower.”
Max’s face lit up as he examined the watch. “This is amazing. I’ll wear it all the time.”
Over the next day, Zach’s behavior was too obvious. The man seemed to appear wherever Max went–when he was studying in the living room, getting a snack from the kitchen<b>, </b>or heading to the bathroom. Once, Max walked into his bedroom to find Zach sitting on his bed, ying with a bullet like it was a coin trick.
“Why do you keep following me?” Max finally asked.
Zach looked up from the bullet he was rolling between his fingers. He didn’t answer.
At dinner, Zach followed Max out of his room. “Don’t disturb him while he’s studying,” Ryan said with a warning
tone.
‘I wasn’t making noise,” Zach replied defensively.
The next afternoon, I grabbed my car keys. “Zach, let’s go for a drive.”
Zach looked up from where he was methodically field–stripping a pistol. “Where?”
“Just around. Ryan, stay with Max.” My tone made it clear this wasn’t a request.
In the <b>car</b>, Zach watched the scenery blur past the window. “Where are we going?” he asked again.
7:59 <b>Fri</b>, <b>Sep </b>26 <b>T </b>
“Nowhere specific. Just showing you around.” I kept my eyes on the road.
“Why didn’t you bring Ryan?”
I smirked. “Maybe I prefer yourpany, Zachie.”
Zach fell silent for a moment, then asked, “Can I drive?”
<b>86 </b>
I pulled over without a word and switched seats with him. Once behind the wheel, Zach’s demeanor changed slightly. A hint of excitement crept into his usually impassive face.
“I know this car,” he said, running his hands over the steering wheel. “There are only six in the world.”
“You like it?” I asked.
“Of course.”
“It’s yours then.”
Zach shook his head. “No thanks.”
“Why not?<b>” </b>
“Can’t drive this in Venezu. Too shy.” His practical answer didn’t match the appreciation in his eyes.
I had nned to show Zach my school, thinking he might enjoy seeing Princeton’s campus. But as we approached, seven ck SUVS suddenly surrounded us, cutting off our path. Two dozen men in suits poured out, forming a perimeter around my car.
A familiar face approached–the assistant who had been with Rnd Richards at the restaurant. His nose was still swollen from ourst encounter.
<i>‘</i>Get out of the car,” he demanded, tapping on the window with a gun.
Zach looked at me, and I nodded slightly. We stepped out, facing the wall of men.
The assistant recognized Zach and sneered. “You’re going to regret what you did to Mr. Richards.”
“That old pervert still alive?” Zach’s voice was t. “Stilling after young boys?”
“You have no idea who you’ve messed with,” the assistant snarled. “Mr. Richards is a powerful man. If you’re smart, you’lle with us. He still wants you, and he’s willing to be generous. Resist, and you’ll learn what real pain feels like.”
Zach didn’t wait for him to finish. He mmed the car door shut andunched forward with frightening speed. His fist connected with the assistant’s face, and the sound of teeth breaking echoed in the street. The man copsed,
<b>7:59 </b><b>Fri</b><b>, </b><b>Sep </b><b>26 </b><b>T</b>…
blood spurting from his mouth.
:
“<b>Just </b>trash,” Zach muttered, turning to face the other guards who were now rushing toward him.
“Jade! Is that you?” a voice called out from the direction of the school.
Chase Astor was jogging toward us<b>, </b>waving excitedly. He was heading our way, ignoring the campus security guard calling for him to stop.
<b>86 </b>
Chapter Comments
? 3
Write Comments