27
Zoe stood at the end of the row, watching the team area.
Ahmed was polishing the Citroën—as if it wasn’t about to spend nine hundred kilometers traversing the roughest conditions on the planet. Drake and Nikita were breaking down the camp, getting ready to move it to the next bivouac. Christian was hovering.
Luke sat in a lone chair beside the car, as if he had been carved from stone on that very spot. He looked even worse than she felt.
Good!
She checked her watch. Ten minutes until their assigned start time.
Zoe waited until there were only six left, then stepped out into the service lane.
Luke jolted to his feet before she made it three steps. He watched her all the way in. No smile—which was good, because it saved her trying to punch his lights out. No frown. Just watching.
