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“Thank you,” Freya says, reaching over to touch my arm.
I wince, moving away a little.
“Felix, are you hurt?” she asks, voice sharp.
It makes me think of when we’re married if a thought like that isn’t just plain madness. It makes me think of how she’ll care for me the same way I will for her.
“It’s fine,” I tell her. “It can wait until we’re safe.”
“You’re bleeding,” she says.
“A tiny bit,” I reply. “But if I stop, those bastards might find us. Maybe they’ll bring backup this time. We don’t stop until I know you’re safe.”
I’m talking about Freya now, specifically. My thoughts are painfully wrenching in my mind when I think about what could happen to her.
“Felix….”
“We don’t stop,” I growl, pushing down on the pedal.
I’m not risking her gorgeous young body, so ready to give me a child. I’m not risking her kissable lips, her eyes which prove the cliché true… I could stare into them for hours, days.
I’m not riskingheractive, curious mind, gentle words, or anything.
She’s mine.
It’s my job to make sure nothing bad ever happens to her.
CHAPTERELEVEN
Freya
We drive for hours, deep into the night and early morning, with Felix fixated on the road. Somehow, mom and Julie fall asleep. Mom slumps against the window, and Julie slouched with her chin resting on her chest.
But despite the tiredness tugging at my body, I know I won’t be able to give in to the urge.
I feel too wired, adrenaline pumping through my body.
We didn’t say much when mom and Julie were awake, but I feel Felix watching me now, eyeing me in the rearview.
I return to his gaze, my heart feeling as though it gets lighter, floating as I smile at him.
“Do you want to sit up here?” he asks, his voice low and husky.
“Would that be okay?”
His smirk widens, reminding me of how he looked soon after the kiss, our noses tickling each other as we separated.
“Sure, but be quick.”
He pulls the car up at the side of the road. We’ve long since left my state, driving down long roads, leaving civilization behind as more and more country takes their place.
The night air pricks me as I quickly open the door and walk around to the passenger seat.
He drives away the moment I close the door.
His shoulder doesn’t seem to be causing him any pain, but I can see the red stain where the fabric’s torn. At least the blood looks dry. Felix’s forearms pulse, his muscles twitching as he drives, eyes focused on the road.
“Are we almost there?” I ask, glancing at the clock.
