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Dario turned the corner. “I was thinking I’d drop you off at your parents’ house. Give you a chance to spend some time with them. I have some business I can handle while you visit with them.”
My nerves, which had begun to knot up each vertebra, relaxed, one stress point gone. My parent’s reception of Dario was more likely to be hostile than friendly. That dread, paired with my attempt to explain our relationship … I readjusted the seat belt across my shoulder. “That would be great.”
“How long do you want to stay there? A few hours?”
I glanced at the clock. We’d slept in late. That, paired with the morning sex and Eggo feast—it was already one. “Two hours would be fine. I don’t know if I could handle more than that.” I grimaced. “I think it’s going to be a combination of smothering and interrogation.”
He reached over, his hand covering mine and giving it a firm squeeze. “I can be there if that will help.”
Ha. I laughed and shook my head. “No. The only thing more awkward than discussing our relationship with my parents is for me to do it with you.” I peeked at him with a wince. “No offense.”
He smiled. “None taken. To be honest, I don’t have a great track record with fathers.”
I thought of Robert Hawk and felt a little queasy, my concerns about my parents so trivial in comparison to Gwen’s. The car picked up speed and a delicate breeze softly passed over my face. I had the sudden yearning for my old car, a Mustang convertible. When you put the top down on that, a cyclone of wind was created, conversation impossible unless you wanted to chew hair and scream at each other at the top of your lungs. In that, I could have avoided conversation and used the drive to think over what I was going to say to my parents.
Dario cleared his throat. “Just a reminder, tomorrow ... Gwen’s funeral is at one.”
“Oh.” I hadn’t realized, the days running together… I took a deep breath. “I wish I could go with you. Or support you, somehow.”
We had discussed this on the plane. It certainly wasn’t appropriate for me to be there, and honestly, Dario probably needed the time on his own to mourn. Still, I felt like I was abandoning him.
“If you still want to grab lunch with Meredith, maybe that would be a good time.”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “Good idea.” I needed the time with her. Ever since San Diego, things had moved so quickly, and my heart and head hadn’t had time to catch up. I needed to talk through things with a judgment-free third party.
I reached into my bag and pulled out my latest phone. “I’ll text her now and see if she’s free.”
“Just let me know where you’ll be eating so we can arrange security.”
I opened my mouth. Shut it. Abandoned the text and turned to him. “I don’t need security.” The words came out calm and controlled, the statement of a sane individual and not one seconds away from opening the convertible’s door, Evil Knieveling it into the ditch, and then high-tailing it off into the forest.
Dario’s face tightened. “Someone tried to kill you last week.”
“And he’s dead. Which is why you brought me back. So—”
“I’d rather be safe. Just for a few weeks or a couple of months. Just until we figure out everything about Hawk and track down who he hired to kill you.”
He took his eyes off the road and looked over at me. I could see the concern in his eyes, the worry over my safety. I could see it and wasn’t sure if I loved or hated it. That’s why he was taking me to Mohave. He was chaperoning me. I swallowed that immature thought and tried to accept his logic. He was right. It was better to be safe. Still, I hated the idea of security. I thought of someone like Tim and Jim and what it would be like to have them next to me, watching me dip shrimp tempura rolls into soy sauce and wasabi. I thought of them reporting my locations and activities back to Dario, and my vision turned an ugly orange color.
“I don’t like the idea of someone tailing me. You have to understand, you’ve stepped over boundaries at almost every point in our relationship. I can’t give you permission to give me security and not expect you to take it too far.”
He yanked the car across two lanes of traffic, vibrated over the sleep strips and came to a sudden stop on the shoulder, the seatbelt suddenly tight, pinning me in place. I put a hand out, gripping the dash for support, and looked at him.
He jerked the car into park. “Our relationship needs to change, right now, if that’s what you think of me.”
