As I slipped into the driver’s seat of Marshall’s Mustang, the soft leather molding beneath me, I couldn’t help but feel a wave of surprise wash over me. He trusted me enough to hand me the keys to his car—a car that I knew he cherished—and let me go out on my own. No one watching my every move. No one hovering over me. It was a freedom I hadn’t felt in weeks, and it made my hands shake as I gripped the steering wheel.
The Mustang roared to life with a growl, and for a moment, the thought of running crossed my mind. I could floor it, hit the open road, and never look back. I could vanish, disappear from this twisted situation, leave behind Marshall, and everything I had been entangled in. But as I drove through town, that thought lingered for a minute longer than I cared to admit, but th
