Page 32 of Wayward (Wrecked #4)

Turn About

Haley

M y eyes widen when Zane turns to me. “London. We’re going to London. FAM, that’s the private airport south of the city, right?” I ask Zane in a whisper.

Hope soars—even after everything they’ve said, after the negotiations between us, Sam, and Z, and despite all that’s still uncertain, it feels more like home. Like maybe . . . maybe we have a better chance of slipping away.

How deep do the Zambrano family’s ties run? I can’t imagine what’s going through Zane’s mind right now. It really is his home—or almost. Birmingham’s only a few hours away. His mum, his sister . . .

My heart squeezes for him, and I hold his hand, hiding it from the guard behind us.

Our eyes lock, and I try to communicate as much sympathy as I can without saying a word.

We’ve got a lot of hours before we get there. Zane tries the tablet, checking to see if it’s unlocked enough that we could actually send a message. I regret now that we didn’t do more— something, anything. But I was still so hopeful that Stella would really help us.

Instead, she and her fiancé sold us out.

I wonder what kind of family favors they’ll receive for their loyalty to the Zambranos. That’s how the rich operate. It’s all about networking—who you can help so they’ll help you later.

It’s disgusting, and I hate it.

It makes me never want to associate with anyone like that again.

Maybe I need a new job when all this is over.

That’s the weird thing. I love what I do—so much that I can’t imagine ever doing anything else, even after everything that’s happened.

Maybe there’s something wrong with me.

“You doing okay, Little Bird?” Zane whispers.

There’s a grunt from behind us—from Collins. I don’t know what he has against Zane. The rest of the guards seem indifferent.

I don’t want to fall asleep. I feel like every second we get closer to London, something could happen.

But that’s ridiculous.

I convince myself that sleeping now is for the best and recline the large leather chair and pop up the footrest. It’s not quite flat, but it’s damn comfortable—way better than the economy seats I usually travel in.

The flight’s not as long as the one from Miami when I first went to meet Rocky and Candy. Back then, I thought I was going to be touring Asia and eventually helping reprovision the ship for a world cruise. Rocky and Candy were supposed to be popping in and out as the ship changed locations.

It feels so long ago now.

Now . . . here we are.

My guys. My new family.

On the edge of maybe getting back to whatever our new normal could be. That is, if we can convince Z that his dad can’t touch us.

Maybe I’m being na?ve.

But I don’t understand why Ed cares so much.

I mean, I suppose it’s great to have Z’s protection—even if it feels like a prison sentence.

But I glance back at Easton.

The whole thing feels muddled and confusing.

And I want answers.

But I also want us to live—and not under the rule of Thayer Zambrano Senior.

We have rights. Or at least . . . we should.

I drift off to sleep.

My dreams are as jumbled as the situation. When I wake, there’s a blanket over me.

Zane’s grin flashes at me. “You hungry, Little Bird? Paul—the flight attendant—brought us dinner a little while ago, but he said he’d give you some when you woke up. It’s not great, but I’ve had worse. Even Dante finished his.”

I drink two bottles of water, finish off the food, and then—fifteen minutes later—the inevitable happens.

I’m not one of those girls who refuses to use the bathroom on planes. But I try not to. And it’s been a long time since we left the resort.

I lean forward and get Holloway’s attention, then point to the bathroom. He gives a curt nod.

I unbuckle my seatbelt and head that way.

Paul, the flight attendant, is sitting in his seat. “Can I get you anything?” he asks.

“I’m good. Just gonna use the bathroom.”

While I’m in there, I wonder about him. Someone like Paul. When I come out, I lower my voice and ask, “So . . . how long have you worked for the Zambranos?”

“Long enough,” he says. The way he lifts his chin tells me he has stories—and he’s not about to spill them.

I give him a wry smile and head back to my seat. I lean over to Zane. “How much longer?” I whisper.

“An hour, tops,” Zane says, giving my hand a quick squeeze before letting go—before Holloway or one of the guards can notice.

When we do land, it feels like the plane is actually driving us somewhere else. It’s a good forty-five minutes before we come to a stop.

The door opens, and Holloway heads down the stairs while the other guard scowls at us and points at our seats.

After another long wait, we’re taken off the plane—one at a time—and loaded into a sleek town car.

It’s dark outside the hangar we’ve been parked in.

This time, we’re all in one car. I’m sandwiched between Calvin and Sam again.

Across from me are Dante, Easton, and Zane, with the guys flanking him on either side.

The door clicks shut, and a small window in front of the car slides open. Holloway’s face fills the opening. “Remember your promise,” he says.

Then the window clicks shut again. I reach across and take Zane’s hand. The guys are all staring at him too.

“I don’t know what the hell you expect me to do,” Zane mutters. “Just because we’re in Britain doesn’t mean I have any answers.” His tone is sharp. It’s surprising—but I get it.

We’re all on edge. And Zane has to be even more so, being this close to his family.

Sam knocks on the window.

Holloway opens it again. “What?”

“How long before we get to where we’re going?” Sam asks.

“Not that it should matter to you, but a little over an hour. Surreyham,” Holloway says.

“Posh,” Zane mutters under his breath. He lifts his head. “But I suppose that’s their brand.” He glares at Holloway, who shuts the window.

The windows are tinted dark, but when we pull through the gate of the walled yard, I’m blown away.

It’s a castle. Well, not a castle but a chateau.

A nice primary in the south of France explained the difference to me.

Castles are fortified and usually built before the 15th century, while chateaus are grand manors with no fortifications.

Still, I can’t help wondering, “You think there’s a dungeon in there? ”

“Not the kind of dungeon I want to take you to, Sassy.”

“Dante!” I playfully smack the side of his knee.

“Don’t make me take you over this knee.” He grabs my hand before I can snatch it away and holds it there.

The car stops, and we’re escorted out onto the driveway of crushed gravel under a very un-British clear night.

Behind us, the light pollution of London glows in the sky, but beyond the chateau, stars dance, not a cloud to be seen.

“This way.” Holloway holds up his arm and points us away from the main entrance. We go beneath a rose archway to a smaller side entrance, and the path wanders between two stone lions standing guard on either side of it. Ivy trails up the side of the bricks.

The thick door we walk through has iron strapping on it. The floor inside is terracotta. There’s a small flight of stairs to our right, and next to the entrance there are two sets of garden boots, one pair considerably larger than the other.

“Up you go.” Holloway stands at the bottom of the stairs. Collins leads Dante, followed by Easton and then me.

Collins stops halfway down the red carpeted hallway. “You’re all in here.” He points to his right. There’s a massive tapestry bed in the middle. “There’s one bed, but you’ll figure it out.” He closes the door behind Sam, and it locks with a thud.

There’s an attached bathroom. I’m busy looking around the room while Calvin’s trying to open the windows. “They’re nailed shut.”

“We gave him two weeks,” Sam says.

“You don’t expect us to follow his rules?” Easton raises his eyebrows.

“Let’s regroup in the morning.” Sam slaps Easton on the back.

“I could sleep for a week,” I say, salivating over the bed. It looks as soft as a cloud. I pool plunge onto the mattress, and it puffs up around me. Rolling to my side, I close my eyes.

There’s a pounding on the door, and Holloway walks in. “A couple things.” He’s holding a bunch of straps in his hand.

“Those are the things?” Dante asks.

“Ankle monitors. You have free range of the house. Don’t leave the walled gardens or we’ll know.

” Holloway slaps them on us, one each. I hold out my good ankle for him.

He looks up at me as he finishes attaching the strap.

My other ankle is still visibly swollen and wrapped in the bandage.

“I have someone who can look at that if you like?”

I’m about to tell him no, I’m fine. But for when we’re released, I should make sure it’s not going to slow us down. “Sure, that would be great.”

“The sofa pulls out; do what you want. Just don’t be loud about it.” Holloway pulls the door shut.

“Sleep, that’s what I want,” I say.

“And that’s what you shall have, my lady.” Zane pulls down the duvet for me.

I wake, and only Zane is in the room. “Hey Little Bird.”

“You know, I used to be a morning person.” I stretch and slide out of the bed.

“I know. I believe you.”

There’s a knock at the door, and Zane goes and answers it. “Holloway,” he says. “Haley just woke up. I’m not sure we’re ready to go to the dining room yet.”

I hold the sheet up to my chest. Even though I have Zane’s T-shirt on, I still feel exposed. “If you give me a few minutes, I’m sure I’ll be ready soon.”

“If you could hurry up, I’d appreciate it. There are not many of us here to watch you all.” Holloway turns around.

I glance over at Zane. I guess that’s my cue to get out of bed. I scoot out the opposite way from Holloway and hightail it to the bathroom. A few minutes later, I’m back out into the main room. My wardrobe consists of three wrap dresses. Holloway and Zane are looking out the window together.

“Anything interesting?” I ask.

“I was just telling Zane about the grounds, since we’re on new terms.”

I smile and give a little nod. “I’m ready to go.” I put my hand on my stomach.

“Good, because the chef here isn’t as patient as Esmeralda.”

At the mention of her name, it makes me sad, thinking about Penny and Pepper stuck back in Thailand. Sam and I have talked about how we need to make sure that we get them back. They're family, too. We will. “Well, let’s not keep the chef waiting. I know how they can be.” I smile at Zane.

“There’s just not as much staff here. I really need you guys to keep up your end of the bargain. You need to really believe what he told you. It’s a death sentence otherwise. I don’t like that he . . .”

Zane and I wait for Holloway to continue.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing. Collins used to work for Ed. I don’t trust him.

And you shouldn’t either.” Holloway nods.

“But I never said that. After you.” He opens the door and gives us directions through the complicated corridors and down a back flight of stairs.

I’m going to need a map to know where I’m going from now on.

We take another left from his directions and are in the grand entryway of the chateau.

Heavy tapestry curtains line each doorway—tall potted palms are at equal intervals too. “Next right,” Holloway says.

I take the right and jump. “Collins! Sorry, you gave me a fright.” I clasp my hand to my chest. His eyes lock with mine, and it’s weird. I feel like I should know him. But why? He’s just the asshole who shot at Zane, the one even Holloway doesn’t trust because he used to be one of Ed’s men.

“My apologies.” He waves me into the dining room.

“Sassy,” Dante calls to me. “You’re awake, finally.

I thought it might be dinnertime before we saw you.

” He pats the chair next to him. “I saved you a spot. It’s not bad—the food that it is.

” He spears a sausage and holds it up. “It’s still English food.

This spot is the best because it’s next to me. ”

“Mushroom, sausage, and tomatoes. I’m in heaven.” Zane races to a chair next to Sam.

“Hey,” I say and wave to Calvin, Sam, and Easton. When what I want to do is go over and kiss them all. But my inhibitions are back.

Dante serves up a plate of food for me from the covered dishes down the center of the table. But it’s not long before a foot rubs the side of my leg. Only, whose foot is it? Easton’s staring out the window. Calvin’s eating, and Sam’s reading a paper.