“It doesn’t involve you.” Her tone is defiant. Which doesn’t land well. If she’s going to have angry outbursts, she needs to explain them.
I put the truck in gear, get on the highway, and leave the Back Bay area, heading toward her parents’ neighborhood.
“Donotdrive me home, Viking. I’m not going.”
“We told him we would. So, unless you give me a good reason, we’re going.”
Her head turns toward me slowly. “You’re making a big mistake. I’m telling you… I will never have sex with you again.”
I can’t believe she thinks she can threaten me. And that I’ll buckle under. “I’m not Sampson, Arya. Shaving off some hair doesn’t change a thing.”
“It’s not that you shaved. It’s that you—” She shakes her head and then turns to stare out the passenger window.
“What?”
“Forget it. You were right earlier.” Her voice rises in frustration. “We’re not right for each otherat all.”
The girl is so volatile. Blowing out a loud breath, I steel myself against the urge to let this explode into a bigger fight.
“You can’t force me to go in,” she adds, her voice the crack of a whip.
My voice emerges sounding calmer than I feel. “What’s the issue between you and your parents?”
“Not my parents. Between me and my mom. And she’s tricking you, okay?” Arya’s so agitated her hands shake. She’s like a completely different person than she was earlier. “My mom is not sick. It’s what she says to get me where she wants me.”
“Whether she’s lying or not, you still have to check.”
“No, I don’t.”
So fucking stubborn. My blood pressure’s probably risen twenty points.
“If you’re so hellbent on going, you can meet her alone.” Her tone drips with disgust. “Why don’t you offer to help her out? She’ll love that. Not that she’ll take you up on it. That’s not how she operates.” A long fingernail taps her phone, and she raises it to make a call.
When whoever’s on the other end doesn’t answer, she leaves a voicemail. “Hey, it’s me. You guys are pissing me off. I need you to roll your juicy ass out of bed to come get me. You guys can take a break. You’re not rabbits.”
“Part of the reason I wanted to take you home was so you could stay for a few days. Mail bomb, Arya. Addressed to you. Is the fight with your mom a bigger deal than that?”
The shake of her head is fierce, but I don’t miss the way she leans forward, curling in on herself.
“It would be safer,” I say. “Until I find him.”
“The police and the FBI can’t find him. What chance do you have?None.” Her cold dismissiveness grates on me.
Outwardly, I don’t react. There’s no point. She’s irrational and closed off. I need to see for myself where all this is coming from.
When we reach the family home, it’s not what I expect. Suburban and large but not particularly ostentatious. Red brick, with black shutters that have faded in the sun and need a new coat of paint.
I walk around the truck and open the passenger door. Waves of unhappiness roll off her like the tide.
“Come on,” I say firmly.
“I’ll hate you if you force me to do this.” Her deep brown eyes lock with mine.
“You won’t hate me. We’re past that. Which you should realize.”
Arya glares at me and shakes her head.
“We’re not leaving until we’ve gone in. I can stand here all day.”
