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I have a thousand questions but I’m giving her a minute to get herself together. Honestly, I don’t know what to say. This is not something I’ve ever dealt with before.
Suddenly, she’s getting on the freeway. “Paige, I need to know what’s going on.”
“You shouldn’t have got in the car. I can’t stop. I’ll pull over and let you out, but I’m not going back there.”
Chapter five
Paige
He's silent for a moment. I can feel his gaze on me, no doubt trying to figure out what’s happening. I don’t know what to tell him. I do, but I don’t know if I should.
"You're not getting rid of me that easily, Paige," he finally replies, his voice laced with absolute conviction. "If we're in this, we're in this together."
I don't respond. My eyes focused on the road, my fingers white against the black steering wheel from how hard I'm gripping it. I can't help but think of how complicated things have become.
I knew this was a possibility, but I never really thought it would happen.
“What is going on?” Hunter asks.
“It’s really a long story.”
“But I imagine we have some time, right?” he asks dryly.
“I don’t know why you got in the car,” I say with disgust. “I told you to stay.”
“First of all, I’m not a dog. Second, you’ve got at least three men that wanted to kidnap you. I’m thinking right now you might need a little backup.”
“If you missed the nine-millimeter in my purse, I would be happy to show it to you,” I snap.
“Unless you’re a quickdraw, three men, one gun does not exactly make even odds. Who are you?"
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Paige.”
“Yes, my name is Paige,” I scoff.
"What was that?" he asks, his voice edged with tension. “Why in the hell are you flying out in the middle of the night and lying about your name?”
“I really don’t have to answer that.”
“No, but I think I deserve some kind of answer.”
I try to play it off, to be coy, but he's not letting it go that easily. “Look, I appreciate you coming to my rescue, but I really don’t need you to tag along. I’m not going back to the airport. I’m not stopping.”
“Who do they were for?”
“I don’t know.”
“You do know,” he insists. “They knew your name and they said he’s not going to stop. Who are you running from?”
“It’s not just one person,” I finally tell him. “My parents. My fiancé.”
“Fiancé?” he asks with surprise. “Your parents and fiancé sent men after you? Men that were willing to hurt you and kidnap you?”
“Yep.”
“Tell me more,” he says.
