Page 22

“I know what happened at the market,” I continue. “I saw the man reaching for a gun. I know you thought they were after me. But you could have called my father. You could have called the police. You could have warned me instead of carrying me away.”

Samuel sets down his fork.

“I didn’t have time to warn you.”

“That explains the parking lot. It doesn’t explain why you brought me here.”

“The men knew your car. They likely know your apartment.”

“You could have taken me to a hotel.”

“Too exposed.”

“A police station?”

“Don’t know who they’ve paid.”

“My father’s house?”

“The first place they’d watch.”

“So this was the only option?”

“It was the safest.”

“That isn’t what I asked.”

He leans back in his chair.

I watch him carefully.

Samuel’s face rarely reveals much, but I’m beginning to notice the small signs. The way his jaw tightens when he’s angry. The crease between his eyebrows when he’s confused. The downward shift of his gaze when something I say hurts him.

Right now, he looks wary.

“You didn’t think I’d come with you willingly,” I say.

“No.”

“Because my father told me you stole from him?”

“I didn’t know that, but it makes sense in hindsight.”

“What’s the other part?”

His eyes meet mine.

“You’re afraid of me.”

“I wasn’t before you threw me into a truck and tied me to a bed.”

Pain flickers across his face. “I won’t do that again.”

“You promise?”

“Yes.”

I believe him.