Risky Business | Zayn Malik | AU

12

That, and when you cross the border, the government scans your passport which means that we'll be in their little digital system. Anyone who can hack that system will find our names. Or any government official who's crooked enough to be paid off will show it to whoever it is we're running from. But really, what other option do we have?

We can't go back to her house, and we can't stay here. It seems the cards are stacked against us, and that this Marc is the only person right now we can trust to keep Alexandra safe.

The thing is that I need to check with Victor. If he says we can't cross the border, then I guess we're going to sit our asses here just like sitting ducks. I'll have to figure out some excuse to tell him. Maybe I can tell him about that guy we ran into at the grocery store. I can say he was wired—a ticking time bomb of sorts—and that by seeing Alexandra, it was obvious he was still seeking revenge.

"Whenever my mom and I used to do it, we'd cross the border into Manitoba or Ontario and then just drive West. Then they have to search across like, three or four provinces just to find you and that's a lot of miles to search. "

"You sure do know a lot about Canada," I observe, eyeing her skeptically.

"I've spent a lot of time there," She replies vaguely. "Your car is legal, right?"

"Yes, but I'm carrying a weapon."

She bites down on her lip. "Oh, crap, right. Well, I guess we'll just have to hide it really well. Have you ever been in prison?"

"Alexandra—"

"Ever been a drug smuggler?"

I catch onto the fact that she's alluding to me inserting the weapon into my body in a place where the sun doesn't exactly shine, but I'm clearly against it. It isn't happening. "I guess we'll just have to see how well we can hide it, won't we? How well are you at shamelessly and innocently flirting?"

"I'm not flirting with a border officer, that's ridiculous, Zayn."

I raise my hands in mock defence. "Alright, alright. But be prepared to do so if needed, yeah?"

"Zayn—" She blushes, hiding her face in her hands.

"I reckon I should call your father then and ask him what he thinks about it."

She nods her head lightly. "I can do it. You can start packing your things and I'll phone him."

Alexandra doesn't entirely seem thrilled about offering to do so, and so I ask, "Are you sure?"

With a shrug of her shoulders, she tells me, "Yeah, I haven't talked to him in a while and I probably should." She picks at her fingernails, staring at the wooden pattern in the table. "I do miss him, so . . ."

I swallow hard, feeling a little sorry for her. Her father and her have clearly never had a strong relationship, but she's struggled so hard to bond with him and he . . . well, he doesn't even pay her much mind. "Well, as long as you're sure." I tell her. "I'll go start packing then. We leave tonight?"

"Yeah," She confirms, nodding her head to dismiss me.

I head to the room I've called my bedroom for the last few days, sighing at the mess of the space. I was never one to exactly be clean, but this room just seemed to be worse than anything I wanted to deal with. My clothes are spread out everywhere and the bed hasn't been made since I arrived here so the sheets are crumpled and messy, which probably won't make Gwen happy.

Regardless, I clean everything up. First making my bed and then moving onto packing all of my belongings into the small suitcase I brought. I make sure to grab my toothbrush and shit from around the house and as I'm doing so I notice that Alexandra is using her grandmother's landline. She's pacing around the living room, running a hand through her hair as she talks to her father.