Zayne POV
The engine didn't just start; it roared, a violent, mechanical snap that cut through the graveyard silence of the driveway. I didn't look back at the estate. I couldn’t. If I caught even a glimpse of the light in my bedroom window—the room where I’d just left Alexandra shaking and terrified—I’d have lost my nerve. And if I lost my nerve, I’d never do what needed to be done to keep her breathing.
Blake was a silhouette in the driver’s seat, his knuckles white against the leather of the steering wheel as the high beams slashed through the dark. We cleared the main gate, and neither of us said a word for twenty miles.
The silence was heavy, thick with the kind of history I’d tried to pretend didn't exist. It allowed every memory I’d buried to crawl back up. Emma. I leaned my head
