Hidden Identities // H.S

Chapter 32

We've been interviewed by the police and have spent countless times in Mitch's office these past two days. Zayn and I knew exactly where we last saw the truck with its blown-out tires. Yet according to the police, there is no evidence of the truck even stopping there. No tire marks or indents.

I popped out their tires for crying out loud! I saw their truck swerve and stop on the side of the road. And they're saying it was never there? At least I know I'm not crazy this time. Zayn and Harry saw it too.

Today is their photoshoot for a business magazine. Technically I'm supposed to have the week off but I feel fine. The pain in my side wore off the next morning after I took extensive painkillers.

Mitch doesn't really trust just us being around them during this time. We have two private escorts and bodyguards outside each door. I don't know what that makes Zayn and me. I think we're their supervisors more than bodyguards.

Zayn and I both broke our protocol, so Mitch doesn't see us much as bodyguards right now. Zayn didn't report Becca staying behind and he didn't stay with her. I didn't listen to Zayn which was to stay calm and just let him drive.

I have taken off the week from working in the office, though. I can't imagine how- - weird it'd be with Harry and me. We haven't talked much since - - our kiss.

I spent the first night internally beating myself up for it. The next night I couldn't stop smiling as I relived it. As for last night, I went through a pros and cons list.

There wasn't much of a pros list though. One thing that did surprise me that I haven't stopped thinking much about is I didn't have a hallucination. He never popped into my mind while I kissed Harry. I hope it means I'm getting better. I try not to think about it too much or I'll see him again in my mind.

"Jane." Zayn waves his hand in front of my face. I flinch at the sudden movement, putting my hand over my chest.

"What the hell?" I whisper at him.

"You daydream a lot," he hums, "I'm dying to know what goes on in that head of yours."

Zayn would kill me if he knew what I was thinking about. He'd give me a million reasons why it's wrong. I'm dying to tell someone. Zara would never let me change the subject if I did. As for my sisters, they don't even know I have this job.

I awkwardly laugh off his words, my eyes trailing over to Becca. She's sitting in a director's chair as two makeup artists fluff her face with their makeup brushes.

"What are they even promoting?" I find myself scanning the room in search of Harry. He's not here. Shit. He's not here.

"Where's Harry?" I tense up in my seat, gripping the arms rests.

Zayn cluelessly shrugs, watching me with suspicion. "Eager much?"

"I don't know if you remember, but I'm still his bodyguard, Zayn! My eyes have to be on him at all times and as of right now, I don't know where the hell he is." I whisper at him.

"Relax," he chuckles, "he's getting dressed. And they are promoting the clothes they're wearing. Keep up, Jane."

I roll my eyes at him. I watch as another person rolls in a rack with Becca's pantsuit. It's an all-white pantsuit. It looks like any other pantsuit. I guess just making rich people wear it makes it worth more.

I watch as one of the stylists frantically walks around, asking people a question then walking away to the next. She race walks over to Becca, nervously getting her attention. Her body is nearly trembling as she asks Becca something while Becca's intense stare makes her even more nervous. She responds to the stylist, throwing her hand back and motioning to us with her thumb.