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“Twenty minutes if traffic behaves.”

“I think now would be a great time to explain what this whole thing is about. What do you even do for a living?” I question, the conversation with Daya still fresh in my mind.

“I hack into government and military databases and expose crimes against humanity. I also take things a bit more personal and infiltrate the lives of officials who have proven themselves corrupt or evil.”

My mouth opens, but no sound escapes.

Oh, fuck.

“You’re Z.”

The smile widens. “You finally figured it out. Daya tell you that?”

My eyes bulge. “You know her?” I ask incredulously.

He shrugs a shoulder. “She’s one of hundreds who work in my organization,” he explains simply. “I don’t know her personally. And I’ve certainly never met or talked to her. But I know everybody that works for me.”

I shake my head, dumbfounded. “You’re her boss?”

“I guess you could say that. I started my organization from the ground up, and once it got big enough, I took plenty of people on. They have their objectives and the people they report to. But we all have the same goal.”

“Which is?” I press.

“Bring the girls home.”

My chest constricts, and I have the sudden urge to… I don’t know, do something. I don’t know how I’m feeling—completely bewildered, for starters.

I turn my head to look out the window, contemplating his words. He’s being upfront, but I get the feeling he’s still holding back.

“So, you’re helping to save children and women from sex trafficking,” I conclude. While it doesn’t seem like a lie, it just seems too… simple.

“Yes,” he confirms. “I do my own work on the side to bring in the funds to support the organization. Luckily, it's something that allows me, my employees, and every survivor we rescue to live comfortably. But that isn't the only thing we do. The government takes advantage of the public in more ways than stealing their kids. The enslavement of children and women is just my primary focus.”

“Okay,” I say slowly, trying to ignore the fluttering in my stomach. “What exactly is Mark involved in?”

He sighs, curling his fingers tighter around the steering wheel. “He performed a sadistic ritual on a child. A sacrifice of some sort. Someone recorded and leaked a video of it happening, and another one just leaked.”

I cringe, closing my eyes against the pain in my chest. How could anyone do something so vile?

“Does Daya know about what’s happening with Mark?”

“No. The rituals and Mark’s involvement have been kept under wraps. I’m not ready to expose that until I take them down. It’s something I’ve been handling mostly by myself.”

I nod, understanding the implication. Don’t tell Daya.

“So that’s why you’re under a different alias. Why not give me a different name?”

“Because you’re an average citizen and finding out who you really are would be so incredibly easy, it’s almost laughable. Me, on the other hand, not so much,” he answers, shooting another smirk my way.

Ugh. The arrogance.

His face turns serious. “This is why I didn’t want you involved. But I’m afraid Mark has already taken notice of you and I’d rather you be close to me. At least this way, I know you’re safe.”

I face him, eyeing him closely. He’s relaxed into his seat, his long legs spread, one hand draped over the wheel and the other resting on the armrest between us.

I force myself to focus and ignore the way my chest is clenching from just one look.

Just because the sun is pretty doesn’t mean it’s not dangerous to stare at, Addie.