Page 91 of Serpent King's Prisoner

Chapter Forty-One: Abby

The moment the car door slammed shut, Nathan’s glare sliced through the silence like a blade.

“What were you thinking, telling your dad that?” His voice was a low growl, the sound of it sending a clear message: I’m not to be trifled with.

I met his gaze without flinching, mustering the bravado I didn’t feel. “Why don’t you trust me, Nathan?” I asked, my voice steady despite the fluttering in my chest. My fingers found his hand resting on the gear shift, tracing the hard lines of his knuckles. “I’ve been on your side since…”

Well, since he had decided he wasn’t going to kill me. Didn’t seem like the right time to say that. “Since you wanted me on your side. I want...I want to be good for you.” The words tumbled out, a mix of truth and lies weaving a dangerous dance.

His eyes, dark as night, shifted from the rearview mirror to settle on our entwined hands. A tension I hadn’t noticed before seemed to bleed from his shoulders, and he eased back into the seat, the ghost of a smile curling his lips. “Fine,” he said, and the word was a grudging concession.

“Where to?” he asked, as if the reprimand had never happened.

“325 Shannon Street. Apartment 3B.” I rattled off the address, aware that every detail mattered now.

“Need to grab anything specific?” He glanced my way, one eyebrow arched in question.

“Nothing much. Just some toiletries, meds, and clothes.” I shrugged nonchalantly while inside, my mind raced with all the things I couldn’t say aloud. No mention of my laptop or the secrets it held. He didn’t need to know about those.

“Got it.” He started the engine, and we pulled away from the curb, driving toward a destination that felt more like a crossroads than a simple apartment on Shannon Street.

My mind replayed the meeting with my dad over and over. The way his eyes had sharpened when I introduced Nathan, the way he’d scrutinized every word that fell from Nathan’s lips.

“Abby,” Nathan’s voice broke through my thoughts, pulling me back to the present. “How do you think it went? Your dad seemed...content.”

I fixed a smile on my face, one that I hoped reached my eyes. “He was relieved. You know how dads are. It’s been ages since we last saw each other. He was just so excited to see me.” The words felt like ash in my mouth, but I let none of the bitterness show.

“Good.” His response was terse, a single note of satisfaction in his otherwise unreadable demeanor…and I realized that he might not know how dads are at all. His father was the Serpent himself, a dangerous killer with a global reputation. Mine was just a loveable grump.

Also an accomplished detective who’d taken down people just like Nathan’s father, but that wasn’t important right then, and it certainly wasn’t something I wanted to draw attention to.

I turned slightly in my seat to face him, allowing my gaze to flicker over his profile. “To keep selling it, though, you are going to have to let me see him alone sometimes.”

Nathan’s grip on the steering wheel tightened momentarily before he nodded. “If you think it’s necessary.”

“Absolutely,” I insisted, pressing on despite the risk. “It’ll make everything more believable.”

His silence was unnerving, but I couldn’t let doubt seep into my facade now. I thought about the napkin left behind at dinner, the serpent and fangs I’d drawn instead of writing words too perilous to pen. A coded message only a cop—or a daughter raised by one—would understand. I prayed silently that my dad would get it, that he knew me well enough to decipher the warning hidden in those simple doodles.

And that he would let me keep doing my job, no matter what he knew.

That he would trust I was safe–just as I’d written on the note–even if I wasn’t sure that was true.

The city lights blurred past us, neon streaks in the night’s canvas as we made our way toward what I could only hope would be a semblance of safety, at least for tonight.

The car pulled to a stop, and I shook the thoughts from my head, focusing on the reality of the situation at hand. Nathan turned off the engine, casting a look that sliced through the silence. “You’re quiet. Thinking about anything in particular?”

“I’m sleepy from the food,” I said, my voice even, betraying none of the turmoil beneath.

“And you didn’t even have dessert,” he said.

I smirked. “Do you have something in mind?”

He paused, studying me with those deep, dark eyes that seemed to know too much. “You on birth control?”

The question yanked me back to the present. I blinked, taken aback. “I have an IUD,” I replied, my mind racing behind my calm exterior. Why ask now, after days spent in each other’s reckless embrace? But it came to me quick, and the answer chilled me–because he hadn’t expected me to still be breathing by this point.

Fuck.

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