Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Aubrey

He knew.

I could tell by the way he kept glancing at me then looking away. I'm sure he expected me to start again at some point, especially once we were back in the SUV and on the road. But I wasn't going to. I'd cried in the bathroom at the rest stop, but I got it out of my system there, and I'd no intention of starting again anytime soon.

Still, he kept surreptitiously studying me until finally…

"Yes, I was crying back there," I said, "but I'm fine now, okay?"

He looked away, and I could tell from his frown he didn't believe me.

"I wasn't going to press."

Except you did. "Can you blame me?"

"No. You've been through a lot. It's perfectly understandable."

"Thank you."

"If you feel the need to?—"

"I'm fine." And then I added, "Sir."

"Very well."

But it wasn't ‘very well', and he knew it as much as I did.

Little towns dotted the highway at regular intervals, beads spaced out evenly every twenty-five miles on the gray string of asphalt that linked them. We didn't pause in any of them as we passed through, even when the sun slipped behind the mountains towering to the west and left the SUV hidden in shadow. Somewhere between the town behind us and the town ahead his phone buzzed, and he took it up in one hand, glancing at the screen.

"Well, that's settled," he murmured.

"What?"

"Where we're staying tonight."

I swallowed to push down against the anxiety that rose inside me.

"My handler has arranged a safe house for us."

I replayed his words in my head. "You just said… handler," I mused, glancing over at him. "And ‘safe house'. Both of which make it weirdly sound like this was some sort of government- arranged… thing."

"It wasn't," he replied firmly. "At least in the purest sense of the word. But you'd be surprised…"

What the fuck ? "Are you… Do you work for the government?"

He shook his head. "No. I'm an independent contractor, but I do work for certain government entities on occasion."

Now I shook my head. "Every time I think I understand some part of this, I realize I don't."

"All that you need to understand is this: you are going to be taken care of. Provided for in ways you can't possibly imagine right now."

I closed my eyes briefly. "You keep saying that."

"Because I need you to accept it. Embrace it."

"It's not that easy."

"I know," he said firmly, "but it not being easy doesn't make it not true."

The sun reappeared in a gap between the jagged peaks for a moment, flooding the cab in light once again. I felt the heat on my cheek, the warmth of it against my skin. Then, as quickly as it had come it was gone, cut off as quickly as if a light switch had been flicked. I gave a tiny shiver, not certain if it was for the sudden disappearance of light and warmth, or because I was headed for an unknown place with a man I knew nothing about. Not only that, I was doing it so placidly, so docilely, I began to wonder if maybe he hadn't drugged me, and I simply didn't recognize it. Or maybe I was in shock. Or both.

Way to hold it together and not spiral, Aubrey…

We traveled in silence for another hour, passing through two more towns. The sun had completely set when he pulled off the highway onto a small, two-lane road that stretched ahead of us into the darkness. We went on through the night, little gremlins of sagebrush flitting past in the beams of the headlights. Lost in my thoughts, I stopped paying attention until the SUV slowed, before turning off onto a dirt road. I scanned for any sign of habitation and what I found was a single light glowing in the distance, with the only other indication a pulsating blip-blip-blip of a red beacon on top of a tower somewhere on a mountain I couldn't even make out in the darkness. By daylight, the desolation had been unnerving; by night it was equal parts intimidating and frightening.

The SUV shuddered down the washboard dirt road as the single light I'd notice earlier drew closer. When it resolved itself into a streetlight set atop a pole, I saw it illuminated a steel gate drawn across the road, barring our way.

"Well, let's find out how good his information is."

He got out of the truck. I assumed ‘ he ' was his handler, the man he'd mentioned earlier who'd arranged this safe house for him. I watched as he worked at a lock on the gate then as he swung it open. He returned to the vehicle and drove us through to the other side, then stopped again and closed it behind us. And then we were rattling down the road once more, and the world disappeared back into darkness.

It was a shock when the first of the buildings appeared out of the black in the twin arcs of the lights sweeping ahead of the truck. The first was clearly a barn of some sort, then another metal shed came into view as the road curved, and then a house. It was a long, low structure, with stone facings and a porch that ran the length of it from what I could see. He pulled the SUV up in front then killed the motor.

"Stay here," he commanded, as if I needed the order to stop me from jumping out and wandering off into the night. He'd left the headlights on, and I followed his movements as he went to the door, again fiddling with a lock. He opened then closed it, returning to the SUV once he was done.

After he reached inside to shut off the vehicle, he came to my side and ushered me out.

"Come on," he said quietly, taking my arm gently and helping me down. Then, placing his hand in the small of my back, he guided me to the front door and inside.

The house's interior was eerily dark in a slasher-movie sort of way. Where normally there was ambient light coming through windows to help cast shadows, here there was nothing. Even the moon was hiding, and except for the faintest bluish glow coming from a room deeper in the house, it was pitch black.

I could hear him fumbling against the wall, and then?—

Light suddenly flooded the space, and I squinted against the brightness. We were in a living room, well-furnished and maintained, light coming from a scattering of lamps that dotted the area. Pausing for a moment, we each took stock of our surroundings. The place gave every appearance of being recently used; this wasn't a summer home that had been locked up for the year. The overall appearance suggested that whoever was living here was predominately of the male persuasion, but there were subtle hints that suggested at least something of a female touch, too.

"Colbie keeps interesting company, I'll give him that," he said quietly.

"Who?"

He glanced over. "My handler." Nudging me forward, we crossed the room, moving past a small dining room then into a kitchen.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, flipping on the lights.

"A little." And I was, even though my anxiety after the events of the past eight hours had tamped down any serious hunger pangs.

"Hopefully, our hosts left us something," he murmured, moving to the refrigerator and opening it. He bent to look inside, then came up a moment later, turning to look my way.

"If I warm something up, will you eat it?"

I nodded, and he turned to reach back inside, taking out a covered container. He moved behind the kitchen island to a microwave and popped in the dish. Once back at the fridge, he brought out two bottles of water and handed one to me.

"It won't be much"—he tilted his head toward the humming microwave—"but it should hold you over until tomorrow."

"Thank you," I replied quietly, opening my drink.

A few minutes later he had drawn up a pair of stools to the island, and we were both seated, taking bites out of the steaming tray of food he'd heated.

"Enchiladas," I murmured.

"Is it okay?"

"Yes. Thank you." At first, with each bite my hunger felt as though it were increasing rather than diminishing. When he let me take the last forkful, however, I did feel better than I had when he'd first set the container in front of us.

"Do you know who lives here?" I asked, looking around.

"Not really. A team."

"A… team?"

"Mmhmm. Operators. Independents. Like me."

I glanced back toward the living room. "Do they do the same things you do?"

He shrugged. "Some do. Some don't. I suspect this team doesn't."

"Why would you say that?"

"They have a woman living with them. Most teams don't. That's a complication that requires a degree of finessing most operators steer clear of." He looked around. "If I had to guess, I'd say these guys run recovery ops for Colbie, or extractions. Wet work, but not the same kind I do."

"Oh."

‘ Wet work .' I'd seen enough episodes of The Blacklist to know he meant killing. He—and the team whose house we were staying in—killed people for a living.

God, what have you gotten yourself into, Aubrey?

He got up. Grabbing the empty container and silverware from in front of us, he took them to the nearby sink, rinsed them off, and placed everything inside the dishwasher.

"I'll be back," he said, then turned and moved off deeper into the house.

He'd likely picked up on the same details I had earlier: the little arrangement of candles in a semi-circle on the cabinet in the living room, the pictures on the wall in the kitchen that weren't of some sports team or out of a Cabela's catalogue. None of those things had to mean a woman lived here, but that he'd picked up on it same as I had felt comforting for some reason.

It wasn't long before he returned to the kitchen.

"Come with me," he ordered quietly.

I got up from the stool and crossed the room to where he stood at the entrance to the hallway down which he'd disappeared. He flicked off the kitchen lights, and I followed as he turned and moved off. We were almost to the end of the hall when he stopped, indicating an open doorway.

I stepped through. Into a bedroom.

There wasn't much in the way of decorations or indications of personal belongings, which suggested it was probably a guest bedroom. What little there was in terms of furniture was a single chair near the only window, a chest of drawers with a mirror above it, and…

A bed. A single bed.

I stopped, then slowly turned to where he stood just inside the closed door, his arms crossed.

"Come here."

I did as he ordered, approaching slowly. When I was within inches, I came to a halt, staring down at the floor.

"You're going to sleep with me tonight," he said in a low, forceful tone. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir," I whispered in reply.

He brought a finger up under my chin, tilting my head back until I was looking into his eyes. "Good girl. Now take off your clothes."

I swallowed. Reaching for the hem of my T-shirt, I slowly brought it up and over my head. As I did, he didn't react but simply watched as I followed his orders. I dropped the shirt to the floor, then undid the clasp of my bra and let it fall away, too. He'd already seen me naked, but this time was different. At Sonja's, his actions had been sadistic yet methodical, and he'd gone through them with an almost workmanlike detachment. That wasn't the case now. I could see it in his gaze, the heat in his eyes. He was savoring this.

I slipped out of my socks and sneakers, then shucked off my jeans. Taking a deep breath, I slid off my panties and stood naked before him. He looked me up and down slowly, drinking me in, and where once there'd been cold cruelty, now there was simply passion.

"Get on the bed," he ordered.

I complied and climbed up onto the covers, pushing into a pair of pillows that lay against the headboard. As I turned to face him, he began undressing.

Aside from watching him remove his sport coat and fish his cock out from his pants back at Sonja's, I hadn't seen any other part of his body. I did now. He was a big man, broad-chested, arms and legs corded with muscle. At Sonja's I'd thought he looked like one of the football players I'd tutored in college, and though that impression was reinforced now, there were other things about him I was sure none of those college boys had ever had. A scar crossing the ripples of his abdomen. Another dimple on his chest that… I'd nothing but a guess to go off, but I was pretty sure that was what a gunshot wound would leave behind. One leg also had a similar pale mark, and the combined total spoke of not the manufactured strength of a football player but of a man who'd spent a lifetime working to create the presence of authority he did.

Once he'd finished undressing, he wordlessly followed me up onto the bed. I gasped as he pushed between my legs, spreading them open as he captured me underneath him. He caged me within his arms, the mass of his body pressing down against mine as we sank into the mattress. The heat coming off him was both comforting and alluring, an enticing portent of what was about to come.

Lifting one hand, he gripped my chin firmly, staring down into my eyes. "You're a very beautiful young woman, Aubrey. Did you know that?"

I didn't want to tremble, but I couldn't stop it. "I don't think of myself that way."

"And that's part of what makes you so desirable. Humility is a hallmark of submission."

"Submission," I repeated softly.

"Yes." His gaze captured me with an intensity I couldn't break free of.

"I…"

"Aubrey. You submitted to me. You're doing it right now. And there's nothing— nothing —wrong with that. In fact, it's a gift far more valuable than you can imagine."

A gift. Why did those two simple words send a shiver arcing through me?

If he noticed my trembling he didn't give any sign of it. What he did do, however, was shift back and spread me open to display my pussy. I could feel how wet I'd become, and as he stared down at the apex of my legs there was zero chance he didn't notice. I waited in anticipation, expecting him to place his cock at my entrance and enter me.

Instead, he shoved me forward up against the flimsy backboard of the bed, dropping until his head was between my legs.

"Wha… what are you doing?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he pushed his tongue up to part my labia, finding my clit immediately. No awkward fumbling around or slobbering all over my pussy like the fuckboys and lovers of my past. In no uncertain terms, he knew exactly where my bud was.

"Oh, shit," I gasped. "Oh, shit, shit, shit, shit!"

As he worked his tongue over my clit, wave after wave of pleasure pulsed through me. A distant part of me wanted to fight against it, because… what he'd done earlier in the day should've made me loathe him. Right now, rather than lying here giving in to the ecstasy he was creating, I should've been clawing myself away from him. I had no idea who he was other than the tiny fragments he'd fed me. I didn't even know his name. And yet, in that moment… I wasn't losing control; I'd already lost it. None of what was happening was what I'd expected, but— oh, god! —did it feel good. I wanted to scream at myself for giving in, but instead I simply fell into it.

As he continued, I tried to convince myself he was going to stop focusing on me at some point and simply satisfy himself. This was just his way of controlling the narrative, a powerplay of dominance over my submission, as he'd put it. Eventually, he'd tire of giving me pleasure and rise to take his own. Put his cock inside and fuck me until he was satiated. The thought of that should've sent me into a tailspin of despair. Instead, I almost craved it.

Goddamn, Aubrey! What are you thinking?

That it felt good. That was what I was thinking. That despite everything he'd done to me today, right now he was focused on making me feel good. And I liked that. I wanted that. I wanted the feeling of attention he was paying me. The edge of my vision swam as a carnal need tore through me, and I couldn't stop my body from twisting as I rode that thin line separating pleasure from pain. His fingers dug into my hips, pressing me down, and my mind cleared of everything but his tongue and my pussy. My world collapsed to those two things, and the sensation was overwhelming in a way I'd never experienced before.

" Fuck!" I put my hand on his head, trying to choke back my moans and failing miserably. "Please stop, please stop, oh fuck, fuck, fuck!"

His tongue continued to pleasure me and the room, this house, the drive here, everything that had happened back at Sonja's—all of it became a jumbled blur until it was only my body and him. He pursued me with his tongue, finding pleasure and tearing it out of me. I arched upward, my hips twisting because this wasn't merely foreplay any longer, this was him giving . He'd taken me ten hours ago, and now… now he was providing ecstasy in a way that twisted my body with need.

A gift.

I didn't know why I thought of those two words in the final seconds. And then it didn't matter because it was too late. The world went white behind my eyelids as I shattered. I cried out my orgasm, and when I regained a sense of where I was, I had collapsed onto the mattress, a mewling, gasping, ruined mess.

I tried to shift, to regain some semblance of control over myself, but he kept me trapped with his hands, peppering my mons and inner thighs with nips and kisses. Each one was an electrical jolt that sent my nerves into quivering overload so that eventually I gave up and gave in. My complete submission seemed to be the goal he was looking for, because shortly after he rose up and caged me once again within his arms, gazing down into my face with an unmistakable look of satisfaction.

"Now I'm going to fuck you," he growled softly. "I'm going to fuck you, and you're going to let me, because you want me to, don't you? You're going to be a good girl and take my cock, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir," I whispered.

Jesus Christ…

He shifted, his erection brushing against my inner thigh until it came to a stop poised above my labia. The touch was an arc of electricity, a flashback to the previous time I'd had sex this way, but the anticipation this time was far more powerful than then. He'd made me come, and now…

Now I wanted him inside me. I wanted to make him come.

He surged forward and filled me in one powerful thrust.

" Fuck !" I cried out as his hips slammed against mine, his length plunging deep into me.

My pussy squeezed down on the warm, rigid flesh filling me. My eyes closed, I focused for the moment solely on the sensation of him fucking me. It seemed like a lifetime ago that I'd told Sonja I liked sex. Now I concentrated on the feeling of him inside me as I pushed the rest of the world away. He quickly built to a rhythm, his thrusts controlled and yet not so at the same time. As he drove into me, I brought my legs up around him, digging my fingers into the corded muscles of his arms that captured me at either side. Thoughts that a minute ago had me questioning why I was letting this happen, letting him possess me, now resolved into something else entirely.

Take me, Sir. Make me yours. Please!

Everything he'd done up to this point had been about me, but now I wanted to give in return. I didn't care if I orgasmed again—not that it didn't feel like I might the way he was going. What I wanted was this to be for him, and that was thrilling in its own right. I wanted to feel him come whether I did or not.

"Do it," I whispered as he shifted position, hooking his hands behind my knees and pinning me to the bed. "Do it, Sir. Fill me with your cock. Fill me with your cum."

The words drew a low growl from him, and my pussy clenched him in return. I could tell he was getting close, the swell of his girth growing with every increasing thrust, the friction from my swollen flesh drawing him toward his own release.

"Fuck. Fuck, I'm gonna…"

"Yes! Yes, come inside me!"

Daddy.

" Fuck !"

The pulse of his cock as he drove into my body tore a cry out of me. I shuddered as the sharp bite of his fingers into my thighs brought my hips bucking upward to meet him. His cock jerked a final time, and he stilled. Crushed to the bed by his weight, I felt… owned. Possessed in a primal way I never had with any man before, even Lyle. For a moment, he held me like that, gazing down at me, his expression more than simply post-nut indulgence. No, he looked pleased with himself, but also… pleased with me.

And, god, did I long for that.

"You enjoyed that, didn't you?" he rumbled.

I stared back at him without a word. I mean, what did he expect me to say? Oh, god, yes, that was the greatest sex of my life! And even though it had been, there was no way I was going to tell him that right now.

He cocked his head slightly. "Are you embarrassed to admit you enjoy sex?"

"No!" I replied, even as I wanted to bite back the word. God, he wasn't going to give up. "It's just that…"

"That you enjoyed it in these circumstances?"

Fine. "Yes. I mean, you understand this isn't… normal, right?"

"By what standards?"

"Umm… the reasonable kind! Normal people don't let men do the things to them I've let you do today and then go off with them without… fighting."

He shrugged. "Smart people do. People who know when to take advantage of an opportunity that's presented itself. People who realize a world they could only dream of awaits them if they'll simply trust."

I groaned. "Trust someone they've only just met. Trust someone without questioning. Trust as an article of blind faith."

"The greatest things in life are often obtained in those circumstances, as opposed to ones built on cold, empirical fact."

"You say that, but I want you to know I was going to college to be a scientist."

"I do know, but the life awaiting you isn't going to be built on the scientific method. It's going to be built on passion. Service. The willingness to accept without question, obey without hesitation."

I shook my head. "I don't know if I can be that person," I replied softly.

"I do, and you've proven it already. All you require is training."

"Training."

" Mmhmm ," he replied. "Once you've been allowed to see and explore those parts of yourself that have been kept hidden for so long, then you'll understand everything I've been saying. That secreted world will be opened to you."

"I'm not gonna lie; it's hard to wrap my head around that right now."

"You will soon enough. Trust me."

He shifted his body, letting go of my legs and turning me to my side. He slid beside me, both of us still on top of the covers, and pulled me close. I didn't fight him. He was big, but he turned slightly so I could wiggle back against his broad chest, nestling into place. He smelled of… sex. We both did. In fact, the entire room did. And the weird thing was, it didn't feel awkward, or uncomfortable, or wrong. It felt… right.

We both lay there in silence as the day finally caught up with me. I'd been running on equal parts adrenaline and anxiety, focus and fear, but now an indolent lethargy began to overtake me. Eyes closed, I was almost at the point of drifting off when I felt him shift, moving toward the edge of the bed. I turned on my side toward him as he stood up and began to head toward the door.

"Are you… leaving?"

He stopped and looked back. "I need to use the bathroom," he answered evenly.

"Oh." As he started to turn away, I asked, "I'm a little thirsty. While you're going, can I get something to drink?" Before he could respond, I added, "Sir."

The corners of his mouth ticked upward. "Of course, but be careful walking around in the dark. I don't want you getting hurt, okay?"

"Yes, Sir," I replied as I slipped out of the bed and followed him out.

He crossed the hall to the bathroom, and I retraced my steps back down the hallway and into the kitchen. As I went, the reason for his warning became clear; without any lights on, the house was a cave. Aside from a tiny faint bluish glow at the end of the hall, everything else was a tunnel of black. When I stepped into the kitchen, I discovered the glimmer I'd seen came from the clock on the microwave, but even with my eyes adjusting, the kitchen island and everything beyond were nothing more than chunky shapes of blackness.

Remembering the shock of brightness when he'd first turned on the lights earlier, I squinted before I opened the fridge. It helped, and I found another of the bottles of sparkling water he'd brought out for our impromptu dinner. I shut the door, and while my eyes adjusted back to the darkness, I drank.

So weird. It was so insane to be standing here in a stranger's home after having had the most intense sex of my life with the man who'd kidnapped me, and even though there was nothing— nothing —about any of this that should feel that way, it actually felt… normal.

Oh, god, Aubrey, you're out of your mind. You've completely lost it.

I probably had, but that didn't change the way I was reacting to all of this. After I gulped down the last of the water, I turned to set the empty container down on the counter behind me.

And froze as my heart seized in my chest.

A man stood there in the darkness. Dressed entirely in black, he was half-crouched and still, waiting. While the rest of the room was nothing but blocky shapes, his silhouette was in sharp contrast to everything else, a figure like some sort of ninja or commando straight out of a movie. He had an almost military bearing, as if he was expecting to go into a fight at any moment.

"Shit!" The hoarse cry slipped out of me as I nearly dropped the bottle.

He silently raised a finger to his lips, giving a tiny shake of his head. His eyes moved left to right, then his gaze bore into mine.

‘ Where ?' he mouthed.

For a second, I felt lightheaded. I knew exactly who he was looking for, and I had zero doubt why he was asking the question.

So, do it, Aubrey.

And I did. I pointed ahead of myself, across the living room we'd crossed when we first came in, the opposite direction from the bedroom I'd just come from.

Away from where he was.

The intruder nodded once then turned and headed in the direction where I'd pointed. As he faded into the blackness, I turned and moved quickly the opposite way, down the hallway toward the bedroom where we?—

I was jerked abruptly to the left. A hand closed over my mouth as I started to scream instinctively.

" Shhh . It's me." His voice was a breath against my neck, even at this close distance the sound barely audible over the blood thumping in my ears.

I gulped in air in quick jerks, as if I couldn't draw it in fast enough.

"Don't speak. Get inside and lay down on the floor beside the bed. Wait for me." The orders came out rapid-fire then he was gone.

I did as he'd ordered. As I lay on the floor, I could feel— hear —my heart pounding. The exhaustion from earlier was completely gone, replaced by a flood that had every nerve in me alive with electricity. I listened intently for any sound, something which would tell me what the hell was going on. But as the minutes which seemed like hours passed, there was nothing but the shhshhshh of my own pulse in my ears, and the tiniest scrape of my body against the carpet as I shifted in nervousness. At one point, I thought I heard a thump, but beyond that… nothing. No sounds of fighting, no gunshots, no curses, nothing to indicate what was taking place outside the room.

Until the door came open.

My entire body tensed as a pair of feet stalked toward me, and it didn't register in my brain immediately that they were naked feet, no shoes, until he was standing above me.

Alive.

"We need to leave," he said tightly.

"Is he?—"

He stabbed a finger at the pile on the floor. "Get your clothes on. Now."

I pushed away the thousand and one questions flooding my head and did exactly as he'd commanded. It dawned on me as I finished that he'd been out there as naked as I'd been lying there on the floor, but even in the darkness I could see no sign of blood, a wound, or any indication he'd been hurt. There was also no sign of the man I'd seen in the kitchen, and his absence brought a sense of foreboding that prickled my nerves.

We both finished dressing at the same time, and as we did, he gripped my arm and tugged me from the room. He moved decisively down the hallway and through the kitchen, weaving past the island and the stools we'd placed there earlier. We were about to start crossing the living room when I saw… it.

It was nothing like what they show in the movies. It was just a man—no, not a man, a shape that had been a man—lying on the floor. In the darkness, he gave the impression he might've passed out there or was searching under the couch for his lost keys. Except… he looked like neither of those things, because in some sense I couldn't quite pin down he appeared exactly like what he was: a dead body.

"Oh, god," I choked the words out in a hoarse whisper.

He tugged on my arm to keep me moving. "Don't stare. Don't focus on it. Just keep walking."

I jerked my gaze up and did as he commanded, stepping past the form as he guided me to the door.

We headed straight to the SUV, and he bundled me inside. Once he'd closed the passenger door, he disappeared, and I kept my gaze fixed straight ahead, trying not to focus on what I'd seen back there. A few minutes later, he reappeared at the driver's side and slipped inside. He started the truck, pulled away from the house, and headed back up the dirt road we'd come down only a few hours before.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

"I think so."

"If you feel like you're going to throw up, say something. Neither of us needs to be riding with the smell of vomit for the next few hours."

"Yes, Sir. I don't think I'm going to puke, though."

"Everyone says that their first time."

‘ Their first time .' He'd said it so calmly, as if he was talking about the first time you went bungee-jumping or something. Not the first time you walked past a dead body that the man who'd just made love to you had killed.

In the rearview mirror, the darkened house faded into the depth of the desert night. We came to the gate, passed through it, and he closed it behind us as he'd done when we'd arrived hours ago. It wasn't until we were all the way back to the highway we'd been traveling on that I had the chaos of my thoughts collected enough I was ready to ask the question that mattered most.

"What… What do we do now?"

"We change locations," he answered laconically. "Once it's become clear his first operator's been killed, he'll send another."

"Who'll send? Who did… that?" I gestured back toward the house that had long disappeared into the darkness.

"Your friend's father," he replied. "Antonio Delgado."

Mr. Delgado ? "He… He sent that man to kill you?"

"Yes. I'm told he's taken what I did to you rather hard."

I shivered. I liked Sonja's father, certainly more so than was probably normal or appropriate. Still, I'd never thought he'd do something like this, even considering what I knew he'd seen in that video.

"I… I'm sorry, Sir," I said softly. "I didn't mean to cause you a problem."

He brushed the comment away with a firm tone. "You don't need to apologize, Aubrey. You've done me no wrong."

The white and yellow lines of the highway flowed past us, the headlights creating bright dots of white at the edges from the roadside markers that flitted past us as we sped by.

"So… where are we going now?" I asked.

He blew out a sigh. "I don't like having to fall back on contingency plans, but there's a reason for creating them."

He glanced over with a tense smile.

"And it would seem this is one of those times."