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He’s right. I can’t stand here forever and ponder about the meaning of all of this—and I definitely don’t want to get him in trouble, with Logan or anyone else.
I take a deep breath and follow his invitation, quickly sliding into the car, before I can change my mind. He closes the door as soon as I’m planted on the familiar leather seats, before he gets back behind the wheel.
My mind is tumbling with competing theories about what’s going on. I know Logan must be furious with me. I broke our contact, and I ignored all his calls and messages ever since. Is he trying to punish me by making me go back to the penthouse and pack up my books all by myself?
But from the looks of it, that’s not even where I’m going. It doesn’t take long for me to realize that Christopher is not taking the route back to Logan’s home, but we’re heading in a different direction.
“Where are we going?” I ask, leaning forward so he can hear me at the front. “This is not the way to the penthouse.”
I hear him chuckle and sense that he won’t give me the answer I crave.
“I’m not at liberty to say,” he responds.
Our eyes meet in the rear-view mirror, and I’m sure he can see the frown on my face. But if he does, he chooses to ignore it.
We’re heading further into a direction that’s completely foreign to me, and the further we go, the more I begin to worry.
Where are we going? And why are Christopher’s lips sealed?
Am I in danger?
Fear pulls me into its cold and unyielding grip, as I begin to realize how stupid I’ve been. Of course, he wouldn’t just let me leave. He’s a criminal, a man who takes what he wants, no matter the consequences. He had a plan, and I ruined that plan by running away from him. And now, he has come to take me back—against my will, if necessary.
How could I be such an idiot?
“Stop the car!” I yell at Christopher.
He shoots me a quick look through the rear mirror, and shakes his head no. “We’re almost there.”
“I don’t care! I want to get out!” I insist, already unbuckling my seatbelt. “Now!”
“Miss Davis, please fasten your seatbelt,” he tells me in an annoyingly calm voice.
“Why won’t you tell me where we’re going?” I complain. “What is he going to do to me?”
A line emerges between his brows when his eyes meet mine through the mirror now. He looks not only confused, but appalled at my insinuation—which calms me down a bit.
“We’re here,” he announces a few moments later, and the car comes to a halt.
I’m too confused to act, and just watch while he getsout of the car and opens the door for me. I follow his invitation to step outside with apprehension, my gaze darting from left to right as I climb out of the car.
“Where are we?”
The question leaves my lips seemingly involuntarily, and I’m not even looking at him as I speak. We stopped in the middle of a lively shopping street, lined with little boutique chops and cafés, and nothing here looks even remotely familiar to me.
“He’s waiting for you inside, Miss Davis,” Christopher says next to me, pointing to the store that’s right in front of us.
It looks like a vintage bookstore, with a small but very organized display laid out in two large windows that frame the wooden entrance door. The covered sign on top indicates that there may be renovations going on—as does the fact that there seem to be no people inside.
I freeze when Christopher proceeds to open the door for me to step inside. This is weird. Why would Logan want to meet me here? What kind of game is this?
Am I in danger?
I shake my head, as I take a couple stepsbackwards—which seems to amuse Christopher.
“Please, Miss Davis, I don’t know what happened between you and Mr. Reid, but I can assure you, he means no harm,” he says, chuckling. “And I will be right here, ready to take you home at any point, if you so wish.”
He regards me with a pleading look, his brows tilted and a consoling smile on his face.
