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Rowan looked at me as if I were insane before getting in on the driver’s side. Maybe that was for the best, because now that the weird rush of the corpse carving had tapered off, my exhaustion from my sleepless night was creeping back in. As Rowan pulled away from the mansion, I rolled down the window to let the fresh air waft over me, perking me up just a little and washing away some of the lingering smells from the basement.
I definitely wasn’t going to think about the fact that Wylder had made me come with nothing but his fingers over my freaking jeans, and then had the audacity to assume that I was horny because I had cut up some dude.
“So what’s your idea of torturing me?” I prodded when it was evident that Rowan wasn’t going to say anything. “I guess you feel ignored that the others got their turn and you didn’t?”
Rowan sighed without taking his eyes off the road. “I don’t want to fight, Mer. Let’s just get this over with.” He said my old nickname as if it still came easily to him.
“Don’t call me that,” I snapped. “You’ve absolutely no right to call me that anymore.”
He paused and then swallowed audibly. “I know.”
It was only two words, but they surprised me. This was the first time that he had so much as hinted that he realized he’d messed up.
I sank into the seat. “Where are we headed?”
“That’s up to you. Wylder wants you taking responsibility for this burial. Do you know any place that could work?”
The moment I started thinking about it, the image came back to me of the trees looming in the night’s shadows and the rasp of a shovel through soil. The shiver that had wracked my childhood self shot through me again. “Yeah, actually I do. Get on the freeway heading north. I’ll tell you when we reach the right exit.”
If I remembered right, it’d be nearly an hour’s drive. Given a choice, I wouldn’t have wanted to spend that much time with Rowan, but the place I’d picked was discreet. I’d be even worse off if I screwed up this mission.
Rowan glanced over at me. “You sound pretty sure of yourself.”
I shrugged. “Dad took me there a few times as a kid. My tenth birthday, the first time. He figured I was old enough to learn about the darker sides of our business, including the discarding of bodies.”
It felt strangely freeing to admit that without hesitation. Rowan already knew just how bad my father had been; I didn’t have to pussyfoot around the subject. His hands tightened on the steering wheel for a second as if hearing it bothered him. Somehow that small gesture set off another flare of annoyance.
I wasn’t here to chat, definitely not with him of all people. “I need to catch up on my sleep,” I announced. “It’ll be a while—wake me up when you start seeing woods.”
He didn’t argue, just turned on the radio, finding a folksy rock station that was exactly the sort of thing he’d have listened to back in high school. Closing my eyes and tipping my head to the side against the seat, I tuned it out, letting the rumble and the vibration of the engine soothe me into a sleep not even the horrors of this morning could stave off any longer.
I woke up with a start to a hand tugging on my shoulder. Rowan released me the second my eyes popped open. “Sorry,” he said. “You were really out. You didn’t respond when I said your name.”
I rubbed my eyes, not sure I felt any less groggy than when I’d drifted off. I stared blearily out the window, noting the thickening trees on the right side of the highway. The place where Dad liked to turn off was just a little after the forest sprang up on the other side too: an overgrown lane that ended at a long-abandoned picnic spot the forest had reclaimed.
When I looked back at Rowan, he was studying me between glances at the road. Something in his expression brought my hackles up before he even spoke. He looked… sad. Maybe evenpitying.
As if I needed his pity.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said abruptly.
I scowled and pulled my legs up in front of me on the seat. “I know, I know, I’m cramping your new gangster style. Sorry not sorry.”
“That’s not what I mean. Why did you even come to the Nobles? They’re worse than anyone in the Bend in some ways.”
I glowered at him. “At least they’re loyal and they protect what’s theirs rather than abandoning people.”
Rowan winced. He knew exactly what I was talking about. “The past is just—it’s over. You had a chance at a fresh start, a chance to leave this life behind.”
“You mean with my entire family getting brutally murdered? That’s your idea of a fresh start?”
“How is getting revenge going to make things any better? You’re in more danger than you ever were from your fatherorColt.”
Was that true? It didn’t feel that way, regardless of the tests Wylder had put me through. As much of a prick as he could be, he’d treated me with more kindness than my father, even though he owed me a hell of a lot less. Somehow I thought Rowan was letting his own feelings skew his opinion—his feelings that having me around madehislife more difficult.”
“So what should I have done?” I demanded. “Run away like a coward and hidden for the rest of my life, never knowing when Colt might track me down as the sole witness to all those murders? Well, I have some news for you. I learned the hard way that there’s no point in trying to run. So I decided to stay and fight.”
“And you really think you’ll be better off that way?” Rowan asked.
