Danny's POV
The cabin of the car felt like it was shrinking, the air thick with the smell of expensive leather and the terrifying ozone of Chadwick’s rage. I was still holding the burner phone I had snatched from him.
"Give me the phone, Danny," he said, his voice a low, vibrating hum that I felt in my teeth.
"No!" I shoved it against my chest, right under my silk shirt.
"You aren't killing anyone tonight. You are insane and you have a warped sense of humor."
He lunged for me, his hands reaching for my chest to pry the device back, and I scrambled against the passenger door, kicking out at his expensive dress. We were a mess elbows knocking against the dashboard, knees hitting the gear shift.
It wasn't some graceful struggle, it was frantic and clumsy. I was breathing like I had just
