The half-hour ride to the place, somewhere north of Detroit, was in silence, and I wondered just how much he even talked. He didn’t seem to enjoy too much conversation, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
I stepped out of the car and glanced at the icy fields surrounding us. A cathedral-looking shack that looked more like a mausoleum was situated within a distance, closer to the entrance of the woods. This was odd and a little creepy, mostly because I was here with a serious man like Nicholas. Even my heart raced at the thought of having just entered a horror scene.
“Relax. I’m not a murderer. You’ll be safe.”
I rested my gaze on his and wanted to believe that. It had been such a risk letting him take me here, but I’d chosen to be here, so there was no logic for me to complain abo
