As Amara took the wheel, her hands were steady, her focus sharp, but the darkness that surrounded them seemed to press in, as if the night itself were conspiring against them. She glanced at Rowan, unable to ignore the blood seeping through his shirt.
He seemed determined to disregard it, but the sight of it gnawed at her insides. T
he man who had thrown himself in front of a bullet for her and Vaughn was now bleeding out beside her, and yet he hadn’t uttered a single complaint.
"Let’s go back to the hotel now," Amara suggested, her voice low, tinged with a concern she couldn’t quite mask.
Rowan shook his head, his eyes hard as he kept scanning the road ahead. "Not safe."
Amara frowned. "But the security…"
She trailed off as realization dawned on her. Most of the guards had left toda
