Every word I spew is in complete contrast to the rampant thoughts whirling through my head.
Part of me wants to beg him for news about Grey. If Sylan is mad at me for running away. If Drake in fact got that scar the night Grey was shot. But I don’t.
“I told you months ago I refuse to let people control me.” I’m about to land my palm across his jaw when I catch a warning in his eye that has me freezing.
The driver’s hand on his gun does a pretty good job of that too. My breath freezes in my lungs. He studies me for several seconds unmoving before he speaks.
“You don’t need to fear me, Katriona.”
“Tell him that.” I point to the dude in the front.
“He’s trigger happy and stupid. Very stupid.” I caught the warning in his tone at the same time the dude in the front did
