Rachel's Point of View
Without another word, I step off the curb, open the passenger door, and slide into the seat beside him.
"Good choice Red."
He says as the door clicks shut.
"My name is Marcus, by the way."
He says coldly before turning away from me.
Marcus puts the car into gear, and we pull away from the curb, leaving the bus, and the police’s decoy trail, behind us.
As we drive, he says nothing and neither do I, but inside my head, I whisper the same question over and over. I need to know if what I am thinking is right.
"Who sent you?"
I ask him again and Marcus just arches a brow at me, unaffected by the coldness in my voice. He leans one of his elbows on the rolled-down window, his posture lazy and relaxed, like we are discussing dinner plans.
"I have already told you
