“That’s vague,” she grumbled.
“It’s supposed to be,” he insisted.
She huffed out her breath. “Of course it is.” Tank checked the mirrors again, worried that things were too quiet.
“You trust me?” he asked suddenly. The question hung in the air, and Lillith didn’t answer right away. She didn’t give him what he wanted just because he asked.
“I don’t know,” she said honestly. That was fair. She really didn’t know him well enough to trust him. “But I’m in your truck, so I must trust you a little bit,” she added.
Tank nodded, “Yeah, I guess that’s enough,” he said. It was enough—for now. But as he drove deeper into the night, one thing kept repeating in his head—this wasn’t over. Not evenclose. The men who wanted him dead wouldn’t stop looking for him, and now Lillith. But this time, he wasn’t running alone. He had someone worth fighting for by his side, and there was no way he’d let any man lay a hand on her again.
Tank didn’t take the highway because it was too predictable, and they would be exposed. Instead, he cut through back roads, dark stretches of asphalt that wound through trees and empty land like veins no one paid attention to. Places where headlights stood out too much—and where anyone following would have to get close enough to be seen. So far, his plan had been working, but that didn’t mean they were clear. It just meant whoever was hunting him was being patient. And patience was what made men like that dangerous.
Tank checked the rearview mirror again, followed by the side mirror. It was a habit by now. He had spent the past few years of his life surviving, and now, it was second nature. “Do you ever stop doing that?” Lillith asked. “Checking to see if anyone is following us.”
“No,” he breathed.
She shifted in her seat, watching him. “It’s been, like, ten minutes.”
“It’s been twelve,” he corrected.
“Wow,” she muttered. “Those two extra minutes are very reassuring.” He didn’t respond to her sarcasm. He didn’t have the energy for it right now. His brain was running through exits, routes, and contingencies—every possible scenario that could go wrong, and how he’d handle it when it did. Because it would go wrong at some point. It always did.
“You planning on telling me where we’re going yet?” she asked.
“To a cabin,” he said.
Her brows lifted. “A cabin.”
“Yeah,” he breathed. He wanted to tell her that she was distracting him by asking so many questions, but that wouldn’t be the entire truth. He had been distracted by Lillith for far longer than the twelve minutes that they had just spent in the truck together. Well, thirteen minutes now.
“You’re taking me to a cabin in the middle of nowhere?” she asked.
“Pretty much,” he grumbled.
She leaned back, exhaling slowly. “Of course you are.” Tank glanced at her briefly. She looked tired—more than tired. She looked worn out, and that was exactly how he felt, too. He felt like the last hour had taken something out of her that she didn’t know how to get back. Guilt twisted in his gut, but he shoved it down because he didn’t have time for that.
“You’ll be safe there,” he said.
“That’s what you keep saying,” she replied.
“It’s true,” he growled.
“Based on what?” she asked.
“Based on the fact that no one knows it exists,” he shouted. That seemed to get her attention.
“Except you,” she pointed out.
“And my grandfather,” he said, “but he’s dead, so I’m pretty sure that he won’t tell anyone about the place.”
Her expression softened just slightly. “Was he the grandfather who raised you?”
“Yeah,” he breathed. Since his grandpa’s death, he really didn’t talk about him to anyone. Sometimes, he worried that he’d forget about him completely.
“Is it his place?” she asked.
Tank nodded once. “It was.” Something in his voice must’ve given away his sadness.