“Just great! No signal either.” I skim the weather alert, my face falling. “They’re shutting down the roads.”
Rowan’s eyes remain focused on the yellow lines. I can’t even see past the storm. “I’m sure it’s fine.”
A sign passes, but I can't make out the words on it. It isn't a storefront that blurs by that I realize we’re in some desolate town out in the middle of nowhere.
A flash of blue lights has my heart dropping as Rowan rolls to a stop directly behind a string of cop cars that are redirecting traffic.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I curse.
Rowan reaches across the console, placing a comforting hand on my forearm. “It’s okay. We’re fine—”
“We’re not fine!” I stress, motioning to the vehicle's interior. “This is stolen, Rowan!”
“They don’t know that,” he reassures gently. “Just calm down. Deep breaths. I’ve got you.”
I place my hand over his, nodding as he intertwines our fingers. I’m too nervous to think of how tightly he’s holding onto me as we inch forward in traffic. It’s all I have to soothe me as a police officer dressed in a dark rain poncho and umbrella knocks on the window.
Rowan rolls it down with a smile. “Officer.”
“Hell of a storm, huh? Where are the two of you headed?” He shouts over the patterning of rain against the windshield.
“Columbus to visit my parents,” Rowan answers easily.
The officer laughs. “Not in this weather, you aren't. We’re closing the roads until noon tomorrow. There’s an inn just up ahead, you kids can stop off at for the night.”
“Thank you,” Rowan nods.
The officer’s eyes trail to me. “Are you okay, ma’am? You don't look too good…”
Rowan squeezes my hand, and I snap out of it before smiling despite my pounding heart. “I’m fine. Bad weather and my motion sickness don't mix well.”
“I hear that,” the officer chuckles before slapping a hand on the truck. “Get your girlfriend indoors. Roads should be open tomorrow after lunch.”
Rowan rolls up the window, and I sink down in my seat as he pulls around the cop cars. I cover my face with a hand, groaning.
“You did amazing,” my chauffeur praises.
“Please don't make me do that ever again,” I plead. “I thought that was it for us.”
His thumb brushes over my knuckles in an achingly sweet gesture. “I’ve got you. I promised I wouldn't let anything happen, and I meant it.”
That’s what I'm afraid of…
I give him a weak smile, and something passes behind his eyes before he lets me go and thumps his fingers on the wheel.
“There’s an inn,” he reiterates the officer's words.
“Yup,” I add, nerves circling my gut at the aspect of us sharing a room. I know we won't, but that doesn't stop my brain from running wild with the possibility.
He drives a few feet, inching through the town until a bright white sign that reads ‘Cozy Corner Inn’ becomes visible through the storm. He pulls into the empty parking lot, and I take in the dated, multi-story house. The wooden frame looks like a relic as it sags with the weight of decades of wear and tear. The once-white paint job is dulled, and there are pronounced chips and cracks in the wood. Moss has overgrown the foundation stones, and the front porch looks as if it’s leaning too far to the left.
“I swear to god, if this place is haunted, I’m leaving you as an offering.” I threaten my travel companion.
Rowan gives me a withering look. “You believe in ghosts, but you can't believe I'm an assassin?”
“I believe what’sreal.” I roll my eyes.
The rain comes down in sheets across the windshield as the dark clouds overhead look unending and consuming.
