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“Do you ever feel the urge? You know...”

“Every single day.” The sign for the highway came into view, and Nate eased onto the entrance lane. “There’s always this...well, it’s hard to describe. It’s kind of like an itch, just beneath the surface. In the back of my mind, I’m dying to scratch it, because I know how good it’ll feel. But if I scratch—even a little—I won’t be able to stop, no matter how raw my skin gets.”

“That’s got to be tough.”

He shrugged, aiming for nonchalant. Nobody knew, not even his family, but he was absolutely terrified of what might happen if he ever let go again. “Mostly, I try not to think about it, and I try to avoid stressful situations that might set me off.”

“Like this.” Her full lips pressed together. “I’m sorry. If I’d known this thing with my sister would be such a hot mess, I never would have asked—”

“That’s not the kind of stress I’m talking about. It’s more of an emotional stress, like if something were to happen to Larissa or one of my brothers.” Or her. He hadn’t realized until just then that she’d made the short list, and the knowledge knocked him on his ass. “Work stress is different, which, for now, is how I’m classifying your sister. Sick as it sounds, I enjoy this kind of thing.”

“If you say so.” She didn’t sound convinced.

He chuckled. “It’s the way I’m wired. Why don’t you put the seat back and get comfortable? We’ve got a long drive ahead.”

Chapter 9

THEY WERE MAKING GOODtime until a wreck with fatalities forced them off the main road and through a series of detours.

Straining for patience, Nate drummed his fingers against the steering wheel as he inched up on the bumper of a Mazda. He checked the time and frowned. At the rate they were going, they’d get back to Orlando in a week, maybe two. He despised traffic—though, to be fair, he didn’t know a person alive who enjoyed bumper-to-bumper gridlock.

“If we get on Route 1, we can take it to 95,” Dorcas said, her eyes glued to the app on her phone. Some of her wavy black hair had escaped its ponytail and framed her beautiful face. “It might be faster than doubling back to 75.”

“How close are we to Route 1?”

She tapped and swiped at the screen. “About six miles. Hook a right at the next intersection.”

Interstate 95 was a longer drive than he’d originally intended. Traffic probably sucked there as well. But at this point, he was willing to try anything, so long as it got them off this godforsaken road.

Nate hit the turn signal and muscled his way in front of a Nissan who’d been hell-bent and determined not to let him in. When the woman honked, Nate gave her a wave instead of what he really wanted to do, which was give the one-fingered salute.

At the intersection, he followed Dorcas’s instructions and turned right. There was still a lot of traffic, but not as much as the other road, and Nate hoped he’d made the right decision. Either way, their chances of getting home before midnight were pretty much shot.

He glanced at the passenger side mirror and spotted a silver BMW with dark tinted windows in the right lane. His body tensed. His pulse quickened. He couldn’t say for sure it was the same BMW he’d seen outside the storage center, but it bore a close enough resemblance to put his senses on alert.

“Something wrong?” Dorcas asked as he slid one hand under the seat to ensure his pistol was in easy reach.