But as I press my finger on the button to roll down the window, scream, beg, and try to convince her to marry him anyway, I realize I like his brown eyes on mine a little too much.
And I don’t want her to have his attention.
He comes around the car again and opens the driver’s side door, sliding into the smooth buttery leather of the seat.
“You seemed cozy with her. You should marry her.”
“I don’t want to marry her. I’ll be marrying you.”
I turn my head and laugh so loud I have to hold my stomach. Tears form in my eyes, but this time for humor. I watch his face for any telling to say he is joking. If anything, his jaw tenses with annoyance.
My laughter slows, and I wipe my under-eyes. “You have to be kidding,” I say. “I’m not marrying you. I’m not wife material. I will be bitter toward you. I will be…unforgiving. I don’t want to be your wife.”
“You’re going to be,” he says. “And maybe you’ll be bitter at first, but not forever. You’ll love me because you’ll learn how much I love you.”
“You don’t even know me,” I whisper in shock.
“I know more about you than you know, Mable. Tomorrow, you will marry me. You’ll be my wife.”
“I won’t say I do.”
“You will if you ever want to go home again.”
I scoot across my seat until my hip touches the door, not wanting to have anything to do with him. “Is that how it’s going to be? You’re going to make me do whatever you want, so I have hope that I’ll go home, but am I really? Am I ever going to go home?”
“I guess you’ll have to marry me and find out.” The tires spin out as he speeds out of the parking lot, and I press my head against the window, my heart slamming wildly against my chest, panic and anxiety gripping me tight. “I won’t be bad to you, Mable. Give me that chance,” he whispers. “I’ve been waiting years for it.”
I don’t say anything, but what is there left to say? Nothing I say to him will give me my freedom. “It’s not my responsibility to give you what you want because you’ve been waiting for it. You won’t tell me how I know you, yet, you expect me to act as if I do. That isn’t how the world works.”
“You know me, Sweetness. That’s all you need to know.”
I cross my arms over my chest, wanting to argue with him more, but nothing I say will get me anywhere again. Instead, I turn on the radio as we come to a stop at a red light, and Dri takes my hand, kissing the top of it, but he lingers, pressing his cheek against my palm next.
It’s more intimate than how he kissed Daphne.
When he lifts his eyes, the dark hues promise to give me everything, and it’s hard not to allow myself to fall into the unknown pools.
His gaze drifts from me, and he rolls his lips together, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “When I tell you to duck, you lower yourself as much as you can, okay?”
“Adrian, what are you talking about?” I whisper.
“Do as I say. That’s all you need to know. Trust me.”
“Trust you?” I scoff. “You kidnapped me.”
“My brother did. I only want to love you. There’s no crime in that, so do as I say. Do you understand me?” The car begins to move again, and I swallow, nodding in agreement. “Good, Sweetness. That’s good,” he croons as if I’m a child needing to be babied. His eyes stay locked on the road, and his right-hand flexes as he grips the steering wheel. The veins in his hands pop, and his knuckles turn white. His left hand disappears between his seat and the door.
I might be many things, but dumb isn’t one of them. I hear the click of a gun and hold my breath. “Dri? What the hell is going on?”
“I’ll explain everything to you, but first, I need you to get down, okay?”
“Now?”
“Now!” he shouts at me, and I practically throw myself into the backseat and crawl onto the floorboard.
He fires, shattering the passenger side window.
Gunfire rings around me, and I cover my head, screaming when the car jerks to the side. Next, brakes squeal and metal crunches, but it isn’t from the car I’m in.
I sit up and look out the back window, watching the SUV roll until it’s nothing but scrap metal.
Adrian pulls the car over and reaches for me, pulling me onto his lap. His hands are everywhere, checking me for injury, and he is completely frantic.
“I’m okay,” I whisper, but he doesn’t hear me.
“Are you hurt? Are you okay? Where does it hurt, Sweetness? I’ll fix it. Show me. Show me, and I’ll take care of you.” His hands rub down my arms, then my legs. He lifts my shirt to check my stomach, then pulls me over his shoulder and checks my back.
“I’m okay. Adrian!” I pull away from him, taking his cheeks in my hands and looking him in his wild, untamed eyes. “I’m okay.” I press his hand against my chest so he can feel my heartbeat. “I’m alive. I’m here. You protected me.” I don’t know why I’m trying to calm him down when I’m the one who should be freaking out.
The haze from his eyes finally clears, and the sun drifts through the window, gleaming against the amber color of his irises. Flecks of gold glimmer with concern, and his forehead drops to my chest.
“I was so scared I lost you again.”
Again?
What does that mean?
He kisses my chest and neck and brings my head down to rob my lips. He kisses me the way he feels, desperate and afraid.
He clutches me as if I’m about to fly away, rocking me against his lap, and I gasp when I feel how hard he is under me, but he breaks the kiss before I can wonder what’s about to happen in the car.
“Protecting you is my life now. Nothing will ever happen to you, Mable.”
But he’s wrong.
He’s happened to me.
But is he the worst thing or the best thing?
Because right now, I can’t tell.