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Keeping his eyes on the road, I could tell he wasn't happy about the situation either. He didn't want me there, no more than I wanted to be there.

Then why fucking take me?

His hands gripped the steering wheel tight, both arms deadlocked straight, as his mouth twitched and curved in every direction but up. I could barely see the white of his eyes as his lids turned into thin slits and his brows furrowed in angered thoughts. He looked fucking pissed.

“You don't belong here, but I didn't have a choice.” Growling, he spoke through clenched teeth. “I didn't have afuckingchoice.”

The man appeared to be talking more to himself than to me, as if saying his thought out loud helped to convince him that taking me was his only option. It wasn't, he had other choices, but he settled on the first one he thought of.

Flaring his nostrils, his hands twisted back and forth as his lips moved with soundless words.

“I'm not a part of this, we both know that.” Shifting in my seat, I tried to force him to look at me, but he still wouldn't.

Crooking his jaw, his lip twitched at the corner. “Well, you are now. You just added a whole other level to this shit.”

“Why?” I asked, fumbling with the hem of my skirt. It was a stupid question, and even as I asked it, I already knew the answer.

Of course shit changed for him, I had been a fork thrown into the mix. A new set of eyes meant a new obstacle he had to overcome.

Because of me he couldn't vanish into the night. Because of me he wasn't able to escape undetected. I had turned witness to a savage incident that he owned, and it was easier to scapegoat me then blame himself for his own actions.

“Damn it!” Slamming the wheel with his fist, his foot pressed harder on the gas, forcing the car to speed forward. “You don't fucking belong here!”

“Why won't you just let me go? Leave me here, you'll never see me again. I promise.”

“I can't do that.” His gaze flicked to the rear-view mirror, eyes meticulously watching the darkness behind us. “I don't know who else saw you.”

What the hell are you talking about?

“I was telling you the truth before, about how I know you had to kill that man. So ask me anything, and I'll be honest with you, I swear.” Holding up my hand, it looked like I was about to take an oath before the court. “You didn't do anything wrong. Go on ask me anything you want.”

I meant what I said. If the cops came to me, I'd tell them he had no choice. I wouldn't lie about it, there wasn't a reason for me to, the other guy was aiming a gun at his head.

I just couldn't understand why he wouldn't want to call the police, why he would choose to run away, forcing me to go with him, instead of staying there and doing the right thing.

Who is this guy?

A part of me was wondering who the real bad guy was? Was it the dead man in the club or the man beside me?

“I don't need to ask you a fucking thing, and I don't want to know a damn thing about you. I want this night to be over, that's it.”

“Sounds like we want the same thing.”

“You don't have a fucking clue.” Flicking his eyes in my direction, his lips drew taut, his silence returning easily.

What do you want from me?!

Kicking my heels off, I curled my legs up into my chest, laying my head back and angling my face to look at him. I wanted to keep him talking, I wanted him to let down his guard and just give me something, I didn't care what it was.

My hope was that he'd see me as a person, that if we could connect on some common ground, if I could remind him of where we were before that man showed up, maybe he'd pull over and just drop my ass off, telling me to get the fuck out before he changed his mind.

“How about family? Do you have any family?”

“It's none of your business.” Squeezing the steering wheel harder, his knuckles turned bright white.

“My name's—”

Cutting me off, his brows hardened. “I don't give a fuck what your name is, it doesn't matter.” Shaking his head, he looked back at the road. “Look, I know what you're doing, and it's not going to work.”