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“The use of power drills. Mutilation. Electric shock. Strangulation. Slow drowning. Having rats eat through your stomach.” He exhales a heavy sigh. “They love tying up your limbs and suspending your body off the ground. After hours in that position, you start begging for death.” He shakes his head and glances at me, his eyes burning with something akin to anger. “They would pass you around to all the men. They would force me to listen to your screams as they fucked you and drilled holes into your body. They would make me watch as your will to live fades in your eyes, because that would be the worst torture for me.”

I stare at him with wide eyes as all of what he just said flits through my mind like a horror movie.

My heart beats heavily in my chest as I ask, “Have you seen them do all of those things to people?”

He nods, then closes his eyes for a moment before saying, “And, yes, I have done those things. Everything except for rape.”

An empty silence falls between us for a long while, then he suddenly snaps, “I was an assassin for the Bratva, Annie. A contract killer. Murder for hire.” His tone turns deadlier with every word. “I am the motherfucking Wolf with over four hundred confirmed kills to my name! There was a five-million-dollar reward on my head before I turned state witness.”

“I get it,” I croak. “You’re a monster and never pretended to be otherwise. I’m the one who built impossible fantasies around you.” All the emotions and stress get to me, and unable to keep the tears back, my throat strains, and my sight blurs. Needing a moment to breathe through it all, I ask, “Can you stop the truck, please?”

“No.”

His reply is cold, and it’s the small catalyst that pushes me past my limits.

I reach for the handle, but Rowan leans across and grabs my wrist, yanking it away from the door. “You can get angry, shout, and fucking scream your head off, but you’re not getting out of this truck. It’s dangerous!”

I wrench my wrist free, and as the sob bursts from me, I rip off my glasses and cover my face with my hands.

Rowan never claimed to be good. That’s on me. He’s been this person all along. I just chose to stop seeing the bad and focused on the little good I could find.

Because . . . he’s been good to me.

I feel something being placed on my thighs, and when I drop my hands from my face, Rowan’s voice is gentle as he says, “There are tissues on your lap.”

I blindly reach for one and blow my nose while sobs keep drifting like sighs over my lips.

“I’m sorry for losing my temper,” he whispers, remorse thick in his voice.

“It’s okay.” I wipe my cheeks and chin dry.

“Annie, could you try to understand that a mercy killing isn’t a bad thing? There are much worse things than death.”

I nod and put my glasses back on. “I’m trying to comprehend it all.” My voice sounds as vulnerable and scared as I feel. “I would rather die than be raped by God knows how many men.” I hiccup as a lost sob flutters from me, and looking at Rowan, I say, “I come from a different world. I never thought about things like the mafia, cartels, and assassins. I don’t even like action movies. My world consisted of going to school, studying, attending boring functions with my parents, and eventually working at the bar. I felt safe walking to the diner in the middle of the night.” He meets my eyes for a moment as I continue, “My world is light where yours is pitch black. It’s just difficult for me to . . .” I try to think of the right words while I take a sip of water. “I’m just struggling to wrap my head around it all.”

“And you can take as much time as you need to do that,” he replies gently. “I just want you to know that I would never hurt you. There isn’t a soul alive who can give me a kill order with your name on it, and if someone were to try, I’d end them on the spot.” He waves his hand through the air. “It’s us against everyone else.” He gives me a pleading look that I feel in my heart. “I love you. No one else. No what-ifs. No other bullshit scenarios of us not making it past ten years. You’re it for me, Annie.”

I rub my palm over my chest as I nod, feeling a little better.

We drive in silence for a long while, and I take the time to work through my emotions and thoughts. At some point, I drift off to sleep, but my head keeps hitting the window.

“Does the no-touching rule still count?” Rowan asks.

Shaking my head, I scoot closer to him, and when he lifts his arm, I snuggle into his side. My voice is soft as I say, “Thank you for being patient with me. I know this must be difficult for you as well.” I pause and think about the words before I push through and admit, “I do care about you. A lot.”

“I needed to hear that.” He presses a kiss to my hair and tightens his arm around me. “Thanks, my light.”

As I stare out the windshield, I try to think about anything else but the Bratva and Rowan’s past. Watching as the headlights shine onto the immediate road ahead of us, I find it difficult.

“God, the past week has been intense, and I’m so over deserts.” I close my eyes and ask, “Will you tell me about the coastal town in Peru?”

“It’s small and warm all year,” Rowan says, his voice gentle. “Just sun and little beach bars right on the water. People sit outside for hours, and no one rushes around.”

“Sounds perfect,” I whisper, trying to picture it.

“It is. You can hear the ocean from almost anywhere in the town. Surfers come and go all the time, so nobody cares about new faces. There are white houses and palm trees. It’s like being on a permanent vacation.” He lets out a soft chuckle. “I can already picture you walking barefoot on the beach. It’s quiet, Annie. Peaceful enough for a fresh start.”

My chest tightens, and the heavy weight on my heart lifts a little. “Do you really think we’ll be safe there?”