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He killed someone.
The adrenalinerush almost made me black out and my palms suddenly felt greasy over the steering wheel. I stared straight ahead, afraid to look at him with judgment in my eyes.
That was probably what happened. He killed someone—or maimed them so badly that life would never be the same.
Stop speculating. You know nothing.
“Think you figured it out, haven’t you?”
I gave my head a little shake. “Nope.”
He snorted but said nothing more.
We kept the conversation light. I had no desire to send him into another panic attack while I was driving.
It was time to get off the highway, a moment I dreaded. I edged up behind the cars leading to the roundabout.
“Take the third exit.”
“Third exit? What does that mean?”
Will’s face contorted as he fought to keep a straight face. “It means you leave at the third exit. You can count, right?”
I gritted my teeth. How could someone be so damn annoying? I watched the cars sliding into the roundabout. There appeared to be two lanes.
“Crap. I am so stressed out.”
“Don’t be stressed out, Natalie. You’ll get used to it. I promise.”
Now it was my turn. I had to wait until there was a gap between the cars zooming from the right. We whirled around in a circle and I almost didn’t notice the first exit.
“Shit! Which one is it?”
“The third one.”
But I lost track of which ones were passing by me, and then I looped around the entire circle. “Which one IS IT?”
By now, Will had dissolved into laughter. He reached over and patted my shoulder.
“Get off here.”
I breathed a sigh of relief as I pulled left down a road. The GPS lead us deep into the country, until the roads narrowed so severely that I didn’t understand how two cars could fit alongside each other.
It was like something out of a Tolkien novel. There were endless, deep green fields, sheep, unpaved roads, and footpaths that led from village to village. We drove through Ebrington, following tiny, crude signposts. The small, brick cottages, each with a lush garden, looked like something out of a fairy-tale book. I pulled onto the street where we would be staying.
The bed and breakfast was a flat-faced, beige cottage with a kissing gate bordered by rose bushes. A wonderful pasture bordered the house, where I could make out white dots of sheep and hear the occasional baa. There were footpaths leading toward the pasture that begged to be explored.
I grinned as I turned backto see William extracting an irate Tom from the car. He let the cat out at once, which immediately dashed into the bushes.
“He’ll be fine,” he said, noticing my concern.
As we passed through the kissing gate, I realized how desperate my body was for a nap. It was a struggle just to go up the small steps. I knocked on the blue door with William right behind me.
It opened to reveal a slight blonde woman wearing an apron.
“You must be Mr. and Mrs. Pardini.”
My cheeks bloomed.
