Chapter four
1057 Words
I wedge myself as deep into the corner of the back seat as possible while he gets Niko settled up front. Then Cassian climbs in beside me, filling the space with his broad frame and that faint scent of cigarette smoke mixed with cold pine. He unfolds the massive fleece blanket with a snap, sending a few stray dog hairs floating, and drapes it across both our laps.
“It’s seen better days, but it’s warm,” he says.
I manage a small smile. “It’ll do. Thanks.”
The extended cab feels surprisingly spacious back here. I haven’t been in a truck like this in forever. “Didn’t realize these back seats were so roomy. It’s almost comfortable.”
He gives me that crooked half-grin again. “Glad my truck meets with your approval.”
“I’m just… filling the silence. This is painfully awkward.”
“Yeah, no s**t,” he laughs low. “But we’re not going anywhere anytime soon, so we might as well drop the stranger act. I’m Cassian.”
“Cassian?” I echo, raising an eyebrow. “For real?”
“Dead serious. Mom showed Dad the ultrasound and he said it looked like a thunderhead rolling in. Stuck with the name ever since.”
“Must get old explaining that one every time.”
He shrugs, looking genuinely unbothered. “Nah. Beats being another Mike or Dave in a sea of boring.”
Caid’s face flashes through my mind. He’s probably checking his phone by now, wondering why I haven’t checked in. Maybe he’ll worry enough to come looking. A girl can dream.
Cassian shrugs out of his damp coat, muttering about feeling like a wet sponge, and tosses it up front. Off comes the cowboy hat next, then the sunglasses get pushed up into his messy hair. I try not to stare, but my eyes have other plans.
His dark brown hair falls past his shoulders, with two thin streaks dyed—one vivid purple, one snowy white. Black tattoos snake over both forearms and disappear under the pushed-up sleeves of his sweater, climbing toward his neck. The eyeliner from earlier is still somehow perfect. He looks like he wandered out of a rock album cover and decided to rescue damsels in blizzards for fun. I’ve never sat this close to anyone who looks like him.
He catches me looking. “What?”
“Nothing,” I say quickly, glancing away.
“You were staring. Spit it out.”
I squirm under the blanket. “I’ve just… never seen anyone like you up close before. The hair, the ink, the whole thing.”
He lifts an eyebrow, smirking. “Is that a polite way of saying I look like trouble?”
“Not an insult,” I add fast. Don’t piss off the only other living person for miles. “I’m just used to clean-cut guys in polo shirts and loafers.”
“Figures.” He leans his head back against the seat and closes his eyes for a second. “I like standing out. Never saw the point in trying to disappear into the crowd.”
I don’t say it, but part of me envies that. Caid and his circle all blend together—same haircuts, same cars, same safe conversations. At the office I’m just another woman in a blazer. At home I live in old band tees and pink sneakers.
“So, Seraphine,” he says, turning toward me, “what was this big meeting about?”
“Work stuff. Marketing seminar on direct mail and digital strategies.”
“Sounds thrilling,” he deadpans.
“It pays the bills. Or it did, until I drove into a ditch and missed the whole thing. My boss is going to lose his mind over the registration fees and the hotel.”
Cassian scoffs. “Ev, you’re literally trapped in a wrecked truck in a blizzard. If he’s got a problem with that, f**k him.”
I shake my head. “You don’t know Jim. He only speaks in dollar signs.”
“Then he’s an i***t. If he gives you grief, tell him I’ll cover whatever he lost in the room. No big deal.”
I blink at him. “You can’t be serious.”
“Dead serious. Life’s too short to let some suits make you miserable over money.”
“Why would you even offer that?”
He shrugs again, casual as ever. “Why not? I’m not exactly hurting.”
I study his face under the dim truck light, trying to figure him out. “So what do you do when you’re not rescuing stranded women and offering to pay their boss’s ransom?”
“Build custom motorcycles.”
That surprises me. “Really? That’s… actually pretty badass. I’ve never even been on one.”
His eyes widened like I just confessed to a crime. “Never? Not once?”
“Too scared,” I admit with a nervous laugh.
A real smile breaks across his face, the kind that transforms his whole expression. “Tell you what, Evie. Come spring, I’m taking you out on these roads. There’s a killer waterfall a little ways up—quiet, beautiful. You’ll love it. I’ll take it slow, promise.”
The nickname “Evie” hits somewhere soft and unexpected. No one’s called me that since I was small. “I’ll… think about it. But only if you swear you won’t go fast.”
“Deal.”
For a moment the idea feels almost nice—sunshine, open road, no snow. Then reality crashes back in. What if the Cassian doesn’t stop? What if we’re stuck out here for days? Will anyone find us? Is Caid feeding my cat? The thoughts spiral fast.
My breathing gets shallow. My hand finds the door handle and grips it tight. Tremors start in my fingers and spread. I squeeze my eyes shut, begging the panic to back off. Not now. Not in front of him.
“Hey,” Cassian’s voice cuts through, the sarcasm gone, replaced by real worry. “Seraphine, you okay?”
I nod but can’t speak. The truck feels smaller. The snow outside sounds louder. I just need to get out, need air, need this crushing weight off my chest before it swallows me whole.
- Writer
