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I haven’t had much time to process seeing Rowan kill those men in the bar and being forced to leave my life in Portland behind. It’s been one big thing after another, and I feel utterly overwhelmed.

Never mind the whiplash I keep giving myself. My mind tells me I’m stupid and reckless, and that I should try harder to get away from Rowan or somehow get in touch with law enforcement.

My heart and the physical attraction, on the other hand, don’t want to know a thing.

God. I’m so confused.

He talks to me and is allowing me to get to know him. And in his own way, he’s trying really hard to take care of me. He’s very loving, finding ways to touch me.

This morning, he didn’t get angry when I cried and ruined the intimate moment we shared. He held me, and I could feel it wasn’t just because he wanted me to stop. He comforted me because I matter to him.

He does care, but in his own way.

Those are all the things my heart sees, while my mind can’t forget the crack of bones and gunshots as he ended four lives.

There’s also the issue of the Bratva. If I run, they could find me and use me to get to Rowan, and Lord knows, I don’t want to be captured and tortured by them.

At least Rowan isn’t hurting me, although I’m well aware that might change at any point in time.

This trip has been the weirdest thing to ever happen to me, but when everything is said and done, I don’t have a choice but to go along with it. Rowan has made it clear he won’t let me go.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, drawing me out of my thoughts.

When I glance at him, my eye catches on a gas station up ahead. “I could eat, and it would be nice to stretch my legs.”

Rowan pulls the pickup truck into the gas station and stops by the first pump. Then he places his hand behind my neck and brushes his thumb over my skin, making goose bumps erupt under his touch.

“I don’t have to remind you every time we stop not to try to run or ask for help, right?”

“No, it’s kind of hard for a kidnapped victim to forget that her kidnapper can kill someone in three seconds.” I tap the side of my head. “It’s burned in here for life.”

Frustration flickers over his face as he pulls his hand away from me and gets out of the truck.

I do the same, and when I walk toward the store so I can get the key to use the restroom, a patrol car pulls out from the side of the building.

I stop dead in my tracks, and when the officer’s eyes touch on Rowan, my heart sinks to my feet.

Oh God. No!

Just as I’m about to have a nervous breakdown, he nods at Rowan before his eyes touch on me.

Wanting to come across as normal as possible, I smile at the officer before catching up to Rowan and slipping my hand into his.

I lean into his side and grin up at him as if I’m madly in love. Taking a page out of Vanessa’s book, I say, “I need the restroom, big guy. Can you ask for the key, please?”

Surprise flashes in his eyes. “Sure.”

The cruiser turns right, heading in the direction we just came from, and I exhale a breath of relief.

Thank God.

“You did good,” Rowan murmurs before we step into the store. “Even had me convinced there for a second.”

Before I can stop myself, I ask, “Did you like it?”

Rowan places his hand on my lower back and keeps it there while we look at the sparse selection of snacks and foods.

“Of course, I like you looking in love with me and taking my hand,” he replies. “The nickname, not so much. It reminds me of Harlan’s woman. The one who flirts with everyone.”