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She was lying, and I’d find out why.
I didn’t have the highest conviction rate in Texas for nothing.
Chapter Twenty-One
Adriana
Guadalajara, Jalisco, Mexico
Besides the crackling static from useless radio stations, Brody and I spent the first hour and a half of the drive to Guadalajara in complete silence. Since the last twenty-four hours spun on a continuous loop in my head, I couldn’t decide if I was grateful for it or unnerved by it.
I was grateful he didn’t care to analyze and dissect what happened between us. And what happened was that everything had turned upside down. Layers of skin were shedding, and I felt more exposed sitting in this car than when I hung half-naked from the rafters of a warehouse.
I came to Houston with a plan. Everything so far had fallen into place. Box after box checked off as if I’d bound everyone to marionette strings. I made them move. I made them dance. Then I somehow twisted the strings.
However, I was unnerved because last night should never have happened. As confident as I was playing the seductress, I’d never found myself so entangled in a web that I couldn’t walk away. But the minute Brody touched me, not only was I entangled in his web, I wanted to be his prey. Breathlessly waiting to be devoured inch by inch.
In one weak moment, the tables turned, and I found my wrists bound by wires and dancing to his command. My body was his to manipulate and his to control. My lips called out his name both pleading for mercy until I shattered into irreparable pieces.
And he worst part of it all?
I wanted more.
If he hadn’t walked away, I would’ve handed over something he hadn’t earned, and would never deserve.
The more I thought about it, the more claustrophobic I got. Passing cars became a swirl of blurred colors, and the edges of my vision darkened. I gripped the edge of my seat, a thin layer of sweat beading across my top lip.
I had to get out of this car.
“I have to get out of this car,” I blurted out, shocked to hear the words in my head come out of my mouth.
Glancing briefly away from the road, Brody nodded toward the passenger door. “Be my guest.”
“I’m serious.”
“Me too.”
“Brody, I’m not jumping out of a moving car.”
Taking one hand off the wheel, he fumbled with the radio tuner. “Then I suggest you sit back and ignore me for another hour and a half.”
I stared at him, waiting for the punchline, only there wasn’t one. He just kept punching buttons, catching seconds of a song before it was swallowed by static. Letting out a growl, I knocked his hand out of the way and turned the damn thing off.
“Hey, I was listening to that!”
“Yes, unfortunately, I was too. A hundred and eighty minutes of choppy static, and it’s driving me fucking loca!” I screamed the last word, wishing I could’ve punched him without risking an accident.
I wasn’t surprised he was acting like such an asshole. He was pissed about my overreaction about my bag, but if he was waiting for an explanation before dropping the attitude, the next few days would be very quiet.
I let him pout for a few minutes before trying again. “Are you hungry?”
“I could eat.”
“Good. In about twenty minutes take a right. I’m about to introduce you to food cart dining.”
Brody’s eyebrows shot up, worried lines creasing across his forehead. “I’m sorry, did you say food truck? As in food made in a cart?”
“You’re not just a pretty face, are you?” Laughing at his pissed off glare, I sat back in my seat and smirked. “Don’t worry, counselor. If you get sick, there’s a hospital van just down the road.”
