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He grins, making my heart turn over in my chest. I feel like I win a small victory whenever I can make him smile. The edges of his eyes soften just a touch.
As we head toward the door, I can’t help but glance back at the tables where the waitress stands, her mouth agape.
The night arrived while we were inside, the air cool and refreshing after the warmth of the diner. Ollie still holds my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.
“You know,” he says, sobering. “What you said in there about loyalty and trust… it’s rare in our world.”
I nod. “I know.”
My God, do I know.
“It’s something worth protecting, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” he says as we reach the car. He does his obligatory scan of the car, our surroundings and checks in with Aleks, but we’re still in the clear. Our honeymoon gift.
“It is,” he says softly, opening the door for me. “Something worth protecting. And something worth fighting for.”
The door shuts with a click.
He slides into the driver’s seat, and the engine roars to life with a low, rumbling growl. Something has me on edge, but I can’t quite place it. Maybe I’m not used to being protected and safe. I’ve spent too long fighting for survival to trust when things are good.
Arethey good?
This is no joy ride; I know that. Ollie’s testing to see if Carlos has discovered us.
“Can I drive?” I ask before we leave.
He growls and gives me a sidelong glance.
“I know, I know. You like to be in the driver’s seat. You like to be in control. Well, maybe I do too.”
He frowns as he thinks this over, fingering his keys before he finally blows out a breath and hands them to me.
“Go on. Be careful, Renata. This engine’s powerful.” I stroke his thigh and wink at him. “I think I know how to handle powerful things, don’t you agree?”
We drive in quiet, my eyes focused on the road. As I round a bend, the headlights catch something in the distance—a dark figure standing in the middle of the road. I gasp and slow.
“Ollie—”
“I see it,” he says quietly, his voice low, something in it sending a chill down my spine.
“Keep driving straight at it, Renata,” he says in a quiet command.
I accelerate. My heart pounds. I stifle a whimper as we approach, the figure looming closer. I whisper a strangled prayer as I drive closer. “¡Ay, Dios mío, protégeme de todos mis enemigos!”
“Should I—Oh God—what am I?—”
“Don’t swerve. Drive straight at it,” he orders, his voice a dark promise of danger, pulling me deeper into his world. His grip on my thigh tightens.
I feel like I’m going to be sick. Bile burns the back of my throat.
“When I tell you to swerve,do it.” The little hairs at the back of my neck stand up. I’m not sure if I’m more afraid of him or whatever’s in front of us.
Just as I’m about to crash right into whatever it is, he shouts, “Move!”
I yank the wheel, swerving sharply, tires screeching as we narrowly avoid the shadowy form.
“Park!”
