21
Forty minutes of non-talk later, Ethan pulled up to the kerb beside the terraced property. We stared out the window, necks craned as though something useful would materialise if we searched hard enough.
The engine quieted. “Come on.”
I spun to face Ethan. “You said you’d stay in the truck.”
“It’s okay.” He gave a small smile. “You’ve got my back. I trust you to protect me.” His fingers tapped against his beads. “Besides, I have my necklace and my new non-permanent tat, too.” He opened his door and slid out.
With a sigh and a rough face rub, I did the same.
Ethan locked the doors before joining me. His arm slid around my back and drew me close. Like a couple out for an evening stroll, he guided me down the road, away from the property.
At the end of the row of houses, Ethan steere
