He’s alert and focused, and far too dangerous in a way people only become after surviving things they refuse to talk about.
Something about him makes my stomach tighten, and it’s not entirely from fear.
Both in an effort to keep warm and hide, I cross my arms over my chest, and I pull my eyes away when I feel his gaze on me.
In my peripheral, I catch as he reaches for one of the dials on the dash, turning it slightly. Soon after, a light wave of heat pools into the back, and I resist the urge to scoff.
Admittedly, it helps. But I don’t say anything.
“You’re glaring.”
“I am,” I confirm without hesitation. “Take a guess as to why.”
To my surprise, a vague, yet amused breath slips from his lips. “I don’t think I need to.”
My irritation crawls higher again, and I swallow back the urge to dig myself into an even deeper hole.
He isn’t wrong at all. I’m glaring hard, but I can’t help it, and he entirely deserves it.
When his eyes fall onto me again, he continues, “I know you want to ask something…just spit it out.”
I have tons of questions, far too many to speak at once, but I manage to settle on one.
“What do you even want with me?”
He doesn’t even need to consider his answer. “Nothing.”
My brows furrow instinctively, and I hold his gaze. “Then why take me?”
At this, he exhales a long, slow breath, then his tone reaches me, sounding more serious than I expect. “Because leaving you there wasn’t an option.”
This makes me pause, and my chest tightens.
He says it like a fact, without any hesitation, like saving me from that man was non-negotiable for him.
But it still doesn’t make any sense.
“Why?” I ask, quieter than anticipated. “You don’t even know me.”
“No,” he says simply, eyes locked on the road now. “I don’t.”
And that’s as much of a response as I get. Still, the edge in his voice hints at more that he’s not saying, even if he refuses to.
While he drives, I study him longer, trying to decipher the darker parts of his expression. The quietsomethinggoing on within him that he won’t share.
This grumpy stranger with what seems to be the weight of the entire world on his shoulders saved me. Not with smooth chivalry, and not as some noble deed. He was rough and annoying about it, but he still did it anyway.
And now I’m stuck in the back seat of his car, not knowing what to expect.
I don’t trust him, even if he doesn’t seem like the other man. But for the first time since being dragged away from my own event, I don’t exactly feel safe, but no longer doomed.
It isn’t much, but it’s something.
Chapter 3 - Wyatt
The steady vibration of the engine usually settles my nerves when I need it, but tonight, it does the opposite. Rather, she’s the cause.
She’s silent in the back seat…almost unnervingly so with her arms crossed, spine stiff, and gaze fixed stubbornly out the window. The tension rolls off her in waves, sharp enough to form an invisible barrier around her.
