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Zayn didn’t say anything else. He simply reached for me, pulled me gently closer until my head rested on his shoulder, and held me there in silence while I breathed—free, for the first time ever.

Two hours later, we are both in a cell—arrested.

Why? Because we took part in an illegal street race. That was where Zayn was supposed to be, that was why he wanted to leave the gala. I found out when he received a message with the time and place, while he held me, trying to calm me down.

Of course, I didn’t stay quiet until he explained everything. Then I didn’t stop until he agreed to take me with him.

I knew I needed something reckless—something intense enough to make me forget what happened.

And it worked.

I forgot.

For a while, there was only speed, fire, and the roar of the engine.

And I loved every second of it.

I was his co-driver.

And we won.

But the victory didn’t last long. The police showed up, and that’s how we ended up in a cell.

“You know the guys are going to kill me for bringing you with me, right?” Zayn asks, a crooked grin tugging at his lips.

“I’m sure they’ll want to kill you for racing, Zayn,” I say, my head resting on his lap.

We sit on the cold floor of the cell—he leans against the wall, and I lie with my head in his lap.

“Don’t ever do that again,” I tell him, trying to sound serious.

“Hey,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “You were the one yelling ‘run him over!’”

“That’s because we were about to lose,” I snap back.

In that exact moment, the door bursts open. We don’t have time to move before the room fills with people—Sierra, Nick, Noah, Kai, Liam, Theo, Chase, Aiden, Ryan, Chris, Colt, and Ethan.

Oh my God.

They all stop in front of the cell, arms crossed, their faces set in exaggerated mock disapproval.

We stay frozen on the floor, staring at each other for a few seconds before both of us start laughing.

“Looks like they’re enjoying it here,” Chris says. “We should leave them overnight, at least.”

At that, we stop laughing instantly.

Ethan nods to the commissioner, who quickly opens the cell door and steps aside.

Without a word, Ethan walks in and stops right in front of me.

“Get up,” he says, looking me straight in the eyes.

Trembling—from nerves, from adrenaline, I don’t even know—I slowly push myself up. Before I can fully stand, he grabs me and throws me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing.

“Hey! What the hell are you doing?” I shout, my voice cracking.

Around us, everyone stills. Silence falls like a heavy curtain.