insanity building inside me that demands to be heard. There are too many thoughts. Overwhelming questions. A punishing outlook.
I push to my feet, snatch the last of my toiletries from the bathroom, and yank on a comfy pair of Sketchers before following him. I run into Cole in the hall, the two of us walking in tense silence until we reach the garage where Luca shows me to the back of his Suburban.
“You’re going to have to lay low.” He opens the door and waves a hand for me to get inside. “I don’t have all the bells and whistles Hunt’s car has. So you need to spread yourself out along the back seat and stay out of view.”
“What does that mean?” I climb into the vehicle and swivel to face him.
“It means my car isn’t bulletproof.” He closes me inside and returns to his conversation with Cole, the two of them murmuring in low tones before Luca skirts the hood to get in the driver’s side. “It’s time to get down, Pen.” He opens the garage with a remote, the mechanical burr slow and ominous.
“What about you?” I meet his gaze in the rear-view and appreciate the lack of deserved hostility. “What’s the point of worrying about me when it’s just as likely you’ll get shot?”
“Nobody is getting shot. It’s only a precaution.” He makes the Suburban grumble to life and reverses into the bright sunlight. “Now, Pen.”
I hesitate, glancing through the side window to see Cole follow us down the drive on foot, the garage door closing in front of us. “Are you sure you’re safe?”
“We’ve practically got a presidential escort. Hunter’s going to be in front, with your brother and Torian in the cars behind. We’re literally sandwiched between trigger-happy assholes. They won’t let anything happen to us.”
I look through the back window, confirming the cars are ready and waiting.
They’re taking this seriously. Even if they don’t believe me, they’re at least taking precautions. “Can you let me know if you see anything?”
“I’m not going to see anything. Just lay down and enjoy the ride.”
I sigh and stretch along the seat, resting my head on my bent arm as Luca reverses the car onto the street.
We don’t talk. I’m left to fidget in silence, nothing but crunching asphalt and traffic in the distance to keep me company for miles.
I try not to let my thoughts wander. I seriously work hard to concentrate because I know the darkness of instability waits in the wings.
All the nightmarish thoughts are there. Hovering. Impatient for their time to strike.
“How much farther?” I raise my head to peek out the side window.
“Stay down. It’s only a few more blocks.” He turns on the radio, the gentle hum of an unfamiliar song doing nothing to soothe me. “You’ll get to see Tobias soon.”
I wait for excitement to flood me.
Instead, nervous apprehension weighs heavy in my belly. I love that boy, but I don’t know what he’s been told over the past weeks. About me. About the deaths of Chloe or Abi. Or if he’ll be informed of Robert’s presence in Portland.
Our reunion will either be shrouded in secrets or tears. Neither option is comforting.
“Only one more block.” Luca makes a turn, then another, still without a care in the world. “We’re here.”
The car jolts as if we’ve risen onto a driveway and I cautiously sit as we pass through gates attached to a large brick wall.
The setting is reminiscent of my hell in Greece. It’s just another set of gates and walls to lock me inside.
“You’ll like it here.” Somehow, Luca soothes my thoughts. “It’s massive, with enough room for you to hide from anyone you don’t want to speak to.”
He drives the car around the front of a two-story mansion, the manicured gardens perfectly symmetrical with their trimmed hedges and rose bushes. The neighbors’ homes are equally overbearing and ostentatious from the other side of that looming brick wall.
“This is the safest place for you to be right now.” He cuts the engine and meets my gaze in the rear-view. “But, if at any time you don’t feel comfortable, tell me and I’ll fix it.”
“Fix it how? You’d get me out of here?”
“I’d figure something out.” He opens his door, slides free, then helps me from the car. All the while he cautiously scrutinizes the yard, as if he’s taking in every swaying branch and rustling leaf.