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God, he really is crazy.
I squeeze his thigh.
Maybe I’m a little bit crazy too.
“That was for work,” I try again, saying it calmly.
“You shouldn’t have gone.” He still sounds so upset.
“I didn’t have a choice. It was a mandatory meeting.”
“There’s always a choice, Cassandra.”
“Oh?” I try to cross my arms, but Hans still has my hand closest to him trapped against his thigh. “And what was your choice? You killed those guys on that bus pretty easily.”
“You’re already at two. Don’t push me.”
Heat blooms in my core as I remember him dragging me across the seat earlier.
His punishments are not punishments. So I keep pushing.
“You have your own body bags. That’s not normal, Hans.”
“I never pretended to be normal.”
I slide a look up at him. “You told my parents you were a health inspector.”
Hans glances at me. “Health inspectorsaren’tnormal.”
I press my lips together to keep from smiling. “Did you just make a joke?”
“I’m deadly serious.”
The click of the blinker fills the car as Hans merges onto another highway. We’re back around actual traffic now, with Minneapolis looming in front of us.
Hans squeezes my hand, then lets it go. “Will you grab the backpacks from the back seat?”
I have to release my seat belt to turn and reach them. And as soon as it clicks open, Hans hooks his arm around my waist. Like if we got into an accident now, he’d keep me in place just through sheer will.
The backpacks look nearly identical. The only difference is that one has a small orange tag attached to the top handle.
I set them both on the seat next to me, and he points to the one without the tag.
Instead of handing it to him, I unzip it. “What do you need?”
“My shirt.”
I look back at him and the black T-shirt he’s wearing, noticing the shoulder holster with two guns I’d somehow forgotten about.
“Is your shirt dirty?” I ask, thinking maybe he got somedead guy stuffon it.
My mouth pulls into a frown. That’d be gross.
“No, just need a costume change.”
“Costume?”
Instead of replying, Hans lifts one knee until it’s pressed on the underside of the steering wheel, holding it in place, then uses both hands to remove his shoulder holster.
