pressure to my forearm with the towel. “Where are we going?” I ask roughly. The car is too small for us to be this close together. All of a sudden, I realize I know nothing about this man, and whatever plan he had last night, I fucked it up. On purpose.
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he reaches over and presses a knob on his dash, and “Coming Undone” by Korn fills the speakers. He turns it up to drown out my heavy breathing as we fly down the highway.
_______________
The clouds have opened up, and the rain has started to fall. We passed a sign thirty minutes ago that said Marita fifty miles.
He still hasn’t spoken or even looked my way. I’ve sat completely still, hoping he would forget I’m in the car.
“Has it stopped bleeding?”
No such luck. “Yes.” Comes my clipped answer.
When he turns on his blinker and pulls off the highway, my heart starts to pound in my chest because I don’t know what he plans to do with me. But now that I know there’s a gun in the center console, I’ll do whatever I can to get to it. Even though I have no idea how to use one.
He slows down and pulls into a parking garage. I look around, noticing how deserted it is on this rainy Sunday afternoon.
We spiral up and up until we’re on the fifth floor. He pulls into a parking spot, the tires squealing at the sudden turn, and then he brings the car to a quick stop. The seat belt locks on my shoulder.
I look around, expecting his friends to circle us. My muscles tighten, ready to defend myself.
But nothing happens. He shuts the car off, and we just sit in silence. I swallow the lump in my throat. My hands shake, ready to reach for the door handle and run.
“Don’t,” he says calmly as if he knows what I’m thinking.
My head snaps to look over at him, but he stares straight ahead. “I’m not going to hurt you.” I snort, and he turns his head to look at me. “Not today, anyway,” he adds, and that nervousness bubbles up again.
He smiles at me, a soft one, and I fist my hands in my lap because I know he can feel my fear. Men like him feed off it. I reach out and yank his sunglasses off his face. It’s raining, for Christ’s sake; he doesn’t need them.
A set of baby blue eyes stare into mine.
He reaches out, and I jump in surprise. I expect him to laugh, but he doesn’t. Instead, his eyes drop to my cardigan as he takes a lock of my hair between his fingers. He twists the strands around it. “Red really is your color,” he says softly, and then his eyes are back on mine.
Warmth spreads down my back as he threads his fingers through my hair. I whimper, half scared to shit. The other half turned on.
What is wrong with me?
He leans into me, stopping his face just inches from mine. I let out a long breath, trying to stop my racing heart. “Cole …” I whisper his name.
He smiles at me. “Don’t be afraid, Austin. If I wanted you dead, I would have killed you last night. And I sure as hell wouldn’t do it while Celeste knows you’re with me.”
I close my eyes and whimper, trying not to show my fear, but it’s leaking from my pores. His car reeks of it.
“Look at me,” he orders, and I open my eyes. He’s still in my face, his hand still gripping my hair. “Although, I did imagine sneaking into your room and making you pay for what you did. But thought better of it.”
I swallow. “What do you want from me?”
He tilts his head to the side as if to think about his answer. “For you to understand.” He pulls away from me, and I suck in a long breath. Sitting back in his seat, he looks straight ahead over the concrete barrier that comes up to the hood of the car. “See that man?” He points out at the building across from the parking garage.
I have to squint, but I see a man standing in his office. The glass windows showcasing everything. His hands in his hair. His suit jacket on the floor and white button-up untucked. His suspenders hanging from his waist. “What about him?”
“That is Jeff’s brother.”
“Jeff?” I look at Cole.
“The guy we killed last night,” he answers without any remorse.
“Oh,”