Page 13 of Torin

“Then I won’t.”

I blink. Usually, every conversation I have with a man contains a trap somewhere, a price I haven’t spotted yet or a threat dressed up as concern.

This man just gives me an answer.

He glances back at the truck. “You got a phone?”

“Yes.”

“Call whoever you need to call. You shouldn’t be driving that thing even if you could get it off the tree.”

“I can’t call anyone.”

His gaze returns to me, and I immediately wish I hadn’t said it quite like that.

“I mean, there’s no signal.”

He holds out a hand. “Let me see.”

I hesitate before passing him the phone. His fingers brush mine, and a sharp little current runs through my hand.

I snatch it back.

“What was that?”

Gold flares in his eyes again. His gaze snaps to mine, something fierce and startled in his expression.

“Static,” he says.

I look at my phone, then at him. “Static.”

“Must be.”

That is plainly bullshit.

He nods toward the screen. “Your map still working?”

I unlock it. The route is still there. “Yes.”

“Where were you headed?”

I hesitate.

“I don’t need an address,” he says.

“It’s not an address.”

“What is it?”

“Coordinates.”

His gaze shifts briefly to the phone. “How far?”

I check. “Just under six miles.”

“Road gets rougher from here.”

Of course it does.