“And what if something happens?” He asks.
“Like mysterious people following us around? Been there, done that. I want to drive a stolen truck.” I beg.
He deadpans. “As hard as it is for me to say no to you, my answer is still the same.”
“That didn't sound very hard at all.” I narrow my eyes.
“When it comes to your safety, the decision is easy.” He shrugs.
I stare at him for a beat, momentarily struck by his words. It’s easy to say one thing, but with Rowan, I feel like hemeansit.
Trust is a touchy subject for me. It’s always been difficult for me to understand that some people genuinely have good intentions. After what happened to my dad and how it affected my mom, it gave me a raw dose of reality.
Call me cynical, but it’s hard to watch your mom fall apart and lose the only other person you felt understood you in this vast world. It’s taken years of therapy to get to this point, and I feel like Rowan is unwinding me at the seams.
I can't tell if the change is good or bad. Seeing this playful, bad-boy side of him isn't helping my resolve. I'm a sucker for men who can make me laugh. He’s like the perfect balance of protective and fun.
It’s dangerous to think of him this way, but what can I say? I’m just a girl. A weak one who may have a slight crush on her stalker…
My therapist is going to have a field day with this.
“What are you thinking about?” Rowan asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
I sigh, taking another bite of my candy. “I think the real question is what am Inotthinking about.”
He thrums his thumb on the steering wheel, looking like he’s withholding something. “Do you think you’re in a good headspace to talk about this?”
I turn to him, taking in the firm set of his jaw and the dark blue eyes staring back at me. “You’re going to tell me?”
He pops a shoulder before returning to the road. “It depends on whether you think you can handle it.” He sighs, shaking his head. “I was unfair to you earlier. I should have given you more information than I did. I just worried you wouldn't be able to handle it, and you needed a distraction.”
“By giving youhead?” I ask in bewilderment.
“It worked, didn't it?” He counters.
My mouth opens before I close it. Sure, it worked. Now it's all I can think about.
“Well?” He pushes. “Do you want to know?”
“Yes.”
He rolls his shoulders before getting that distant look in his eyes. The thunder rolling overhead and the dark clouds outside seem to add to the ambiance as we head into a thunderstorm. “I’m the leader of the Midwestern syndicate, anorganization of assassins who take money for hits.”
The silence that blankets us is thick and heavy until I burst into rioting laughter.
“You…” I choke on a giggle. “You expectmeto believe that? Come on!”
His face remains hard and impassive. “I’m being serious, Addison.”
“Sure you are,” I smile. “And I'm a spy. I would believe you're in the Mafia before I believe this shit.”
He runs a hand across his mouth before shrugging. “Fine. I tried to tell you.”
“You think you're so funny.” I muse. “Assassins! That’s so far-fetched. You couldn't come up with something better?”
Lightning strikes in the distance as rain pelts the windshield. Rowan flicks on the wipers, but the downpour is so heavy that it barely helps.
“I can't see a fucking thing,” He grumbles as a piercing weather alert blares from my phone. I dig it out of my pocket before cursing at the lost signal.
