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With a heavy sigh, I decide to tell him. It’s already clear my cover is blown. “Adrian is the man I'm supposed to marry next month. But he's not a good man, and I don't want anything to do with him. It’s not a typical marriage or engagement. I guess you could say he essentially bought me.”
“Like he gave your father a couple of goats?” he jokes.
It would be funny if it wasn’t true. “Something like that.”
“Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack. He didn’t give my father cash but it’s a business arrangement. He wants the connections and the contacts my family can give him, and he could care less about me.”
“Your father agreed to that?” he asks incredulously.
“Yes. My father wants the connections Adrian can bring him.”
“I didn’t know that was a thing still,” he says with disbelief.
“In my world, it is. I decided I wasn't going to be sold off like some property, and here we are."
I can see Hunter processing this information. He rubs his temple, then pinches the bridge of his nose. The silence in the car is deafening, but it gives me time to think - to plan.
"Okay," he finally breaks the silence, sounding more determined than before. “So, you’re running away from home?”
“Yes.”
“And then what?” he asks. “What are you planning to do? Is this something that just goes away?”
“I’m not throwing a tantrum,” I say defensively.
“I didn’t say that, but I’m just wondering where this goes? Is he going to change his mind? Are you waiting for Adrian to buy another bride?”
“No. I’m leaving my family and my old life. I am no longer Paige Parker.”
Hunter's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "That seems a little extreme," he comments, his tone cautious.
I shake my head, trying to convey the gravity of the situation. "You have no idea how extreme these people can be," I tell him. “Extreme measures are the only way to keep from finding myself locked in a marriage I know is not going to make me happy. The exact opposite. I can’t go back, especially not now. If Adrian is sending his men after me, it’s clear my father knows.”
“Is your father dangerous?”
“Not dangerous, but he is not going to be happy I’m on the run.”
“Look, I’m not trying to tell you to go back, but running doesn’t really seem like a permanent solution.”
“It’s not like the FBI is going to be looking for me,” I tell him.
“What if your father reports you missing?”
“I’m an adult. I’m perfectly capable of choosing to leave home. I looked it up. If I don’t want to be returned to my father, they can’t make me.”
“And how exactly do you suppose to survive without an identity or credit cards or a bank?”
“I have a new ID,” I tell him proudly. “With credit cards.”
“And what happens when you hit the limit on your credit cards?”
"I've got a small stash of cash," I retort. "Enough to last me a few months if I'm careful."
“And then what?”
“Then I'll find work. That’s what people do, right?”
