The mourners’ goodbyes dragged on like forever, but I barely heard them. My mind was consumed by him—by the way his eyes had devoured me, the way his hand had left me trembling among the graves.
As the crowd thinned, he grabbed my wrist with that iron grip, not violently, but enough to make it clear I wasn’t going anywhere without him.
“Car,” he muttered, his voice low, commanding.
We moved fast, slipping through the crowd. No words were exchanged; we didn’t need them. His presence pressed against me, his body heat searing through my thin dress. I stumbled slightly, and he caught me by the waist, fingers digging in, pulling me flush against him.
The car ride was silent except for my shallow breathing. I dared a glance at him, expecting that smirk, and got it—dark, dangerous, and full o
