VIOLET POV
I don’t know where we’re going. I don’t know why I’m not scared. My breath is steady now, and the air in the car is warm enough that my wet clothes don’t feel so bad. My nerves are still on edge, I can feel them beneath the relief. The relief that I got away.
I stare at Spencer, trying to figure out the guy who grabbed me in the rain and saved me. He saved me.
How could I ever be scared of a man who saved me?
He seems strong, Spencer. He seems like the kind of man who could chase monsters away. His jaw is hard, and his nose looks like a Roman carving, and his hair is long enough to curl as it dries. He has heavy brows, serious eyes. He seems serious.
I feel safer than I’ve felt in a long, long time. Maybe I’m still drunk on tequila after all.
I feel so small and he feels s
